Chapter 13. Rian, a Letter Came for You.
To my beloved mother.
Mother, it's Rian. It's been about a month and a half since I arrived in the north. I've been doing really well up here. No, really. Betty hasn't locked me in my room and forced a mountain of paperwork on me, or held my treasures hostage to blackmail me or anything like that(?). By the way, Betty is Beatrice's nickname. Everyone here treats me like the "Treasure of the North" with utmost hospitality.
Sure, the young lady's gaze in the hallways at night can be a bit scary sometimes, but that's probably just because I'm too handsome, right? I'm really happy. Oh, and I've started a new business here called Winter Rose Pepper. It's been pretty successful in the north! I'm planning to expand sales to the capital soon. I've enclosed a sample for you to try first.
So please tell my sister not to come up north. Seriously. Please. I love you, Mother.
Your son, Rian.
To my dearest youngest, Rian. Are you doing well?
The whole family is worried about you. Remember when that girl, Lady Beatrice, declared in front of me and your father at the imperial palace that she would make you her husband? The entire palace was turned upside down.
It broke my heart thinking of you being sent to that freezing north. But since you insisted on going, I couldn't stop you. Well, at least Winterfell is powerful, and that girl is pretty, so it might work out. Still, you haven't sent a single letter since you got there, so this worried mother is writing.
When your sister came back from her dispatch in the west, she caused an absolute uproar. She swung her sword around like mad, saying her little brother had been sold off to be Winterfell's lady of the house... without even telling her.
Anyway, take care of yourself. I love you, my son.
Your loving mother, Catalina von Luminaris.
You're probably wondering why I'm writing this letter.
It all started about an hour ago.
The Winter Rose Pepper business I started a month ago was a smashing success in the north. Cheap price, pepper-level flavor, the trustworthy Winterfell ducal brand, and me, the brilliant entrepreneur. This was a business that couldn't fail. And contrary to my worries, no plague-like catastrophe broke out either.
'If I hadn't splurged the earnings on alcohol and clean cloths, Betty would've called me insane and I'd be stuck in the warehouse right now.'
But this was supposed to be one of those cool protagonist moments where he resolves trials in a romance fantasy—I feel so wronged.
Anyway, moving on. Our major shareholder Betty suddenly summoned me, successful businessman Rian. In her office, as always, she stared at me indifferently, and there was an unfamiliar envelope stamped with a fancy imperial crest on the desk.
"A letter arrived for Your Highness from the capital."
Betty's voice was even more subdued than usual. With no clue what was going on, I tore open the letter and read it.
I let out a hollow chuckle midway through.
'What the hell. This guy brought disaster on himself. If he'd just told Mom he didn't want to go, she wouldn't have let him.'
The unexpected family warmth was short-lived; I couldn't ignore the chilling gaze from behind me. Betty had leaned over my shoulder to skim the contents.
"Betty, it's rude to read someone else's precious letter."
"What's wrong with a wife reading her husband's letter? Besides, as head of the household, I consider it an appropriate right."
Betty replied nonchalantly.
'She's really changed a lot in the past month. Not that she means anything by it, but saying "wife" like that.'
Anyway, in this situation, I ended up drafting a reply like Rian would.
"Betty, please send this letter and a sample of my paprika powder to the capital. I think Mom needs to taste something spicy to ease her worries."
"Bring the letter here."
I handed it over as if it were natural.
'What's this? Maybe she'll prettily edit it for me? Girls like that kind of stuff.'
Contrary to my expectations, Betty unfolded my draft and read it slowly.
"Hey, I didn't badmouth you in there. Checking for that? That's paranoia. Fix it."
Betty snorted in disbelief and pointed to the line I'd written: 'that's probably just because I'm too handsome, right?'
"Your Highness is the sick one. Looks like we really need to proceed with that bedroom remodel."
Betty tilted her head and said.
"Sorry. It's actually a sickness I can cure myself."
'That attitude will change once she sees the money I've raked in soon.'
"And anyone hearing this might think I'm controlling you and stealing your precious treasures. When you're living better than anyone here."
"……You are controlling and surveilling me. You're peeking at my letter right now."
Her eyebrow twitched at my fact bomb. She slammed the letter on the desk and met my eyes.
"Don't get the wrong idea, Your Highness. This isn't control—it's protection. You seem somewhat useful, after all."
"Got it, Lady Paranoia. Anyway, please send this letter and the paprika powder sample to the capital."
Betty stared daggers at me for a moment before reluctantly nodding.
"I'll assign a courier. But from now on, I'll 'inspect' all your outgoing letters before sealing them. I'm worried you might write nonsense that tarnishes my honor."
"Wow, seriously... Fine, whatever."
I stuck out my tongue and escaped the office. No time for bickering today. Because today was finally the first settlement day for our Winter Rose Pepper!
For a month, the large dryer old man Garrett built ran nonstop, clanking away as it dried paprika, and we even made an automatic grinder, skyrocketing production. The former grinders shifted to bottling and packaging.
'Better not suddenly yank their jobs. They might smash the machines in protest.'
And the result? It conquered the northern markets like wildfire, raking in a massive pile of gold coins.
Current Profit: Over 2,000 gold coins (Rian's share: 300 gold coins)
Notes: Among Winterfell commoners, "Prince Rian's red powder" has become an essential daily item.
"Your Highness, congratulations. Gold sacks are already piling up. Maybe now you can ask the lady to return your book?"
Luna said indifferently as she sorted the money bags beside me. I grinned at the bulging sacks.
"Luna, today you're buying your hardworking boss a gift at the market."
"A gift? Garrett the elder handled the machine development, and all the capital came from the lady's pocket..."
"Quiet. Without me, there'd be no jobs created, and her money would've just vanished in opportunity costs. Urgh?"
"Y-yes. You're right. Prince Rian is the best."
I miss the Luna from our first meeting. She was so bright and kind back then.
Anyway, I dragged Luna not to the market, but to the bustling street of boutiques. Flashy windows and perfume scents filled the air. I fiddled with my gold-filled pouch, steeling myself for my first stop: Winterfell's largest bookstore.
"Luna, wait here a sec. I'm gonna grab some business books."
"Your Highness, if you mean those leather-bound ones stuffed with illustrations, give up. The lady has issued a ban on suspicious books at all the bookstores you might visit."
"……What? She's definitely paranoid!"
I despaired and left the bookstore. No new collection until I get my treasure back. Betty, you cruel woman.
"Fine, next stop. At least buy gifts for the others."
First up: the finest smithy. I bought old man Garrett a set of state-of-the-art precision lenses and premium machine lubricant.
"He'll polish machines all night with this? Perfect employee."
Next, Captain Wolff's gift. For the knight captain, the latest trendy leather wrist guards from the capital and top-grade aroma oil that soothes post-training muscle pain.
"Your Highness, will Captain Wolff like this?"
"He looks strict, but he's secretly meticulous about self-care. He'll love it."
And for Luna, who'd been lugging bags with a pout, I picked out a supremely fluffy premium otter fur scarf to fend off Winterfell's chill.
"Here, this is yours. Thanks for putting up with me."
Luna blinked in surprise at the sudden gift, then wrapped the scarf around her neck and muttered softly.
"……Is this a bribe? Even if you give me this, I've sworn loyalty to the lady."
"Feel the gratitude, damn it!"
Our last stop: Winterfell's most famous jeweler. To pick a gift for Betty. After eyeing the display case forever, I spotted a ruby brooch carved like a rose—its color matched her icy red eyes perfectly.
"I'll take this one."
Luna gave me a surprised look.
"Your Highness, a brooch for the lady?"
"It's a bribe. Means 'please keep supporting me, major shareholder.' And..."
I gave a wry smile as the jeweler wrapped it.
"Pin something flashy on those cold eyes, and even if I screw up later, it'll be a little less terrifying, right?"
"Just don't screw up."
I laughed awkwardly and glossed over it. On the carriage ride back from shopping, Winterfell's bustling streets were peaceful. Folks chattered about the new spice, merchants burst into laughter.
'Oh right. Forgot Sir Lucas's gift.'
"Luna. Turn the carriage around. I forgot Sir Lucas's gift!"
"Sigh. Understood."