The Green Beryl Vase
"Your Grace, have you by any chance ever visited Glintland?" Isabelle asked, catching her breath after her dance with Curtis.
How on earth could I afford a trip abroad when I had to support a family of four, excluding my parents, on a monthly salary of forty thousand sing? Instead of voicing her thoughts, Chloe simply smiled. "No. I am embarrassed to admit that I have not traveled much."
"I see. I must say, I was terribly surprised when I first arrived in Ivanes."
"Why is that?"
Isabelle smiled softly. "It is a bit awkward to admit, but Glintland is exceedingly poor."
I might not know much about diplomacy, but isn't putting down one's own country like this enough to give the Glintland ambassador a heart attack? Chloe thought, her eyes darting around. Fortunately, Ambassador Oslo of Glintland, who had been trying so hard to strike up a conversation with her earlier, was nowhere in sight.
Isabelle continued, "Its quietness is its only saving grace. It is highly mountainous, and the few plains we do have border the sea, making farming nearly impossible due to the high salinity of the soil."
"But I heard that unlike Ivanes, you have many maritime routes. Your ports are said to be quite prosperous."
"I heard the Grand Duchess's family was not particularly wealthy either." It was the King who cut in, interrupting Chloe's polite attempt to lift Glintland's reputation.
His face wore a mocking smirk. I heard your family is dirt poor. That was the clear subtext of his words. Chloe's lips twitched.
"That is indeed true." Yes, we are poor. So what? What of it? Poverty was nothing to be ashamed of. At least, that was how Chloe saw it.
Her parents had never cared much for domestic affairs, but they still faithfully sent home every penny of the modest research grants they received from the university. Honestly, considering their personalities, even that was a miracle. They were scholars who knew absolutely nothing about making money, only how to study. On top of that, they were hopelessly naive and gentle to a fault. It was a terrible thing for a daughter to say, but it was a wonder those two had ever managed to get married and raise children.
The house on Le Martin Street was an inheritance from her father's side—a small townhouse purchased by putting up the annuity that came with his title of 1st-Class Honorary Knight as collateral. Having been born and raised in that house, Chloe had naturally taken charge of the household finances from a young age. She was simply far sharper and more practical than her parents, who possessed absolutely no financial sense.
"Seeing how readily you admit it, things must have been quite dire. I heard somewhere that your family's livelihood rested entirely on your shoulders. You must find your current position exceedingly satisfying."
Satisfied? Do you think I'm doing this for fun? Though you certainly look thrilled. Chloe swallowed the urge to snort in the King's face and replied with flat composure. "Thanks to Your Majesty's profound benevolence, I lived without lack while serving in the Navy. I faced no difficulties in sending my younger siblings to school."
In truth, they had lacked plenty. "Abundance" was a word that had never existed in the Amboise household. Eric had gone to the Royal Military Academy not just for the scholarship, but because it meant one less mouth to feed at home. Leah, who was studying law, burned the midnight oil constantly to maintain her scholarship. Leah had offered to get a job to help support the family, but Chloe had firmly refused.
"My younger brother, Eric, is currently attending the Royal Military Academy on a top scholarship. My sister, Leah, has also maintained her position at the very top of her class in the Capital Girls' School Law Department for the entire year."
At this sudden burst of sibling pride, the surrounding nobles blinked in surprise. After all, the Royal Military Academy was a place where even the most thoroughly tutored noble heirs struggled to secure the top rank. The Capital Girls' School was no different. Chloe felt a deep sense of pride, knowing her decision to stop Leah from dropping out of school to earn a few pennies had been the right one; she had told her sister that it was far better to graduate and secure a proper career.
As for Iris Amboise, they had tried sending her to school, but the medical bills from her falling ill had cost more than hiring a private tutor, so they opted for the latter. Chloe had eaten all three of her daily meals at the Navy cafeteria to save money, while Leah would buy wilted vegetables at the market for a single copper on her way home, brewing a giant pot of stew to last them the entire week. In the evenings, to comfort a weary Iris after her lessons, they would gather and say, "Shall we play with ropes?" and spend hours braiding cords together, giggling and kicking their feet like any other clumsy, ordinary girls.
To an outsider, their lives might have seemed terribly impoverished. Yet, they had never owed a single soul a penny. Chloe felt no shame. If anything, she was immensely proud of her siblings, who worked so diligently without a single word of complaint.
"I am always deeply grateful for Your Majesty's grace, and I served with a heart full of devotion." She was, in fact, somewhat grateful that the military had trained her in the Royal Official Script; she had made a decent side income using it to ghostwrite thank-you letters for high-end department stores. To the public, her family was respectable enough. Thus, Chloe offered the King a bright, serene smile.
"...Still, I suppose it was incomparable to the Grand Duke's wealth, was it not?" The King, who had intended to humiliate the Grand Duchess over her poverty only to end up listening to her brag about her brilliant siblings, muttered in a thoroughly disgruntled tone.
Chloe nodded politely. "I doubt your previous lifestyle allowed you to purchase the kind of necklace or ring you are wearing now," the King pressed.
"And it is precisely thanks to that that I was able to barge into her perfect life." It was Curtis who stepped forward. Having stood silently behind her, keeping a sharp eye on the King and Isabelle la Glintland, Curtis spoke with effortless grace. "Many sages have preached that material wealth is not everything, yet, paradoxically, there are always those who believe that life is only worth living when surrounded by luxury. As I am one of those shallow men myself, I find immense joy in adorning a woman who is breathtakingly beautiful even without a single jewel."
It was a verbose way of saying: Are you seriously trying to humiliate someone in public just because they grew up without jewels? You realize how incredibly petty and shallow you look, right? The aging King's face flushed with sudden anger, but he managed to force a hearty, good-natured chuckle, clasping his hands behind his back.
"Then, Grand Duke, what is your opinion on greed born of ignorance—the kind of desire one only conceives after being exposed to things they never knew existed?"
"Your foolish brother finds it difficult to fathom Your Majesty's profound wisdom. Please, enlighten me." It was his way of saying: Stop beating around the bush and spit it out. You're getting on my nerves.
The King seemed to have no intention of dragging it out any longer either. He glanced down at Isabelle la Glintland, who maintained her serene smile beside him, before turning his gaze back to Curtis and Chloe.
"It seems the Grand Duke has filled his wife's head with unnecessary greed. I have received a grave accusation that the Grand Duchess has committed a terrible discourtesy against Glintland."
"I trust this is not about the wedding," Curtis said coldly. Surely he isn't petty enough to bring up the wedding again at this point. At his remark, the King turned directly to Isabelle. "Duchess of Glintland, I believe you sent a wedding gift to the Grand Ducal couple."
Isabelle curtsied with elegant grace. "Indeed, Your Majesty. We sent thirty-two gifts in total, including the Green Beryl Vase, which is no exaggeration to call a national treasure of Glintland."
"Did the Grand Duchess receive it safely?" The Green Beryl Vase. Chloe knew exactly what it was. She nodded. "Yes, I did." Curtis's dismissive, cold comment—It looked cheap—flashed through her mind. Surely they aren't making a fuss about us accepting it? Are they accusing us of extorting a poor nation? But that was not the case.
"And where is that item being kept now?"
"As for where it is..."
"It was placed on the dining table at the Grand Ducal residence this morning," Curtis interjected, cutting off Chloe's hesitation. His expression clearly read: What of that cheap vase?
The King smiled, as if he had been waiting for this exact moment. "Marquise of Flandre! Bring it forward!" A murmur rippled through the banquet hall. Even those who had been too far away to hear the conversation could not help but watch as the attendants suddenly lined up, parting the crowd to create a path.
Wearing a deeply troubled expression, the Marquise of Flandre snapped her fingers under the collective gaze of the entire room. Right on cue, the attendants brought forward a green vase. No, two of them. Two vases, absolutely identical to the one delivered to the Grand Ducal residence, were placed side by side on a table in the center of the hall. Chloe's eyes widened in surprise. The crowd erupted into hushed whispers.
The Marquise spoke, her face a mask of grim solemnity. "We received an accusation that the vase gifted to the Grand Ducal couple by the Duchess of Glintland was found displayed in a luxury boutique on Papetin Street."
Isabelle took up the explanation. "Because this could easily escalate into a major diplomatic incident, we wished to proceed with the utmost caution. As I mentioned, the vase is practically a national treasure of Glintland. Had it been a mere replica, it would have been easily identified. However, upon personal inspection, I confirmed it to be the exact same item."
The sequence of events was as follows: One of the delegates traveling with Isabelle la Glintland had been strolling down Papetin Street when they spotted the vase displayed in a high-end boutique. An immediate investigation was launched. Why on earth was the very vase gifted to the Grand Duchess sitting in a shop window? It could not be a replica; the original had never once left the royal treasury of Glintland since its acquisition. The boutique owner had evaded questions regarding its origin for some time before finally confessing that he had purchased it just two days prior from a fence for an exorbitant sum. Apparently, in the shady underbelly of Papetin Street, there existed fences disguised as antique dealers. The fence, in turn, claimed to have bought the item from a well-dressed maid, excusing his purchase by saying it was common for runaway maids to sell off valuables stolen from noble estates.
The King had then stepped in to personally interrogate the fence. Under such terrifying pressure, the fence had finally broken. "The man confessed that the Grand Duchess had used her own maid to sell the item. He claimed he paid her three million sing."
A collective gasp echoed through the hall. The King tapped his finger lightly against the table displaying the two identical vases, offering a sorrowful smile. "You should have at least demanded its proper value, Grand Duchess. This piece is worth well over thirty million sing."
It was a performance so utterly shameless it made Chloe's blood boil.