Chapter 35
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: The Girl Lives for Honor
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"I've also kept the condolence money you sent along with the death notices."
Grace, head of the trading house, pulled out the letter and the jewels.
After conquering the grand mansion, while sorting out the aftermath, they'd sent condolence payments to the families of the vassals whose homes had been stripped bare. It wasn't like they'd been scraping by without even affording a single skewer of grilled chicken for nothing.
"Though I couldn't visit due to watchful eyes around us, I always prayed you'd overcome this hardship, my lady. Your sister would have felt the same."
Gasp.
I wasn't alone.
Totally touched.
Chit-chat about recent happenings and idle gossip flowed on.
The trading house head gave her a look of pity. Her hand reached out, gently grasping the girl's.
"It must have been so hard for you."
The warmth soothed her heart.
"Y-Yeah..."
"From now on, you'll only walk flower paths."
A soft pat on the back of her hand.
"Right..."
Pastel's eyes reddened.
This person seems totally kind.
Her wariness melted away.
Goodwill overflowing.
Whatever this person asks for, she'd gladly accept.
She'd even hear out a hit job or something.
Nod, nod.
Her hormone buddy agrees too.
The demon muttered softly in a voice laced with complex emotions.
『You said you wouldn't let your guard down...』
It seemed to mean he understood her heart softening, but was worried about her wariness dissolving completely.
Pastel flinched.
She noticed her relaxed smile.
Oh no.
Her business mode had slipped away without her realizing?!
Completely disarmed!
Eek!
But but buuut.
A relative of Head Maid Emma approaching with such kindness—how could her heart not melt? Anyone would end up sniffling.
Sniff, sniff.
Of course, rationally, she knew this was just ice-breaking and rapport-building before the real business. Her wariness melting was clearly the other side's business tactic.
But rationally speaking, sure, while her heart just felt like whatever, go for it.
Yeah, yeah!
With the favor from Head Maid Emma, getting scammed once by her relative wouldn't be so bad, right?
Gasp.
That hits too true.
Pastel is super smart!
Pastel just grinned and chatted away.
With her guard fully down and heart open, surprisingly, the trading house head reacted first.
The head was flustered that her vicious rhetoric, aimed at the girl's harsh family history, had worked too well. And she felt a bit guilty.
It was like she'd sat down ready to face a Craft family head with a dark interior hidden behind a pretty, cute exterior, only to realize the opponent was just a kid.
"Y-You really went through so much... all alone..."
The trading house head looked like her conscience was stinging. She snapped open her folding fan and hurriedly fanned herself.
Of course, Pastel—whose business mode hadn't fully disengaged, just softened into willingness to get scammed but not stake her life—immediately caught the shift.
Whoa whoa whoa.
Good person.
Pastel, so touched.
Kindness begets kindness.
The world truly is beautiful.
"Yeah, I worked hard."
Memories of the hunger before her survival scams surfaced.
Gurgle, gurgle.
The life where she couldn't even buy chicken skewers.
Sob.
Her eyes heated up.
Her chest tightened.
Pastel rubbed at her eyes for no reason.
"It was really tough. I couldn't even eat properly, starving and all. If my luck had been just a bit worse, I might've starved to death."
Tears stained her fingers.
Huh.
I was actually crying for real.
Eek.
What kind of manners is this in a business meeting?
She hurriedly wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Her nose started running.
Eek, why is this happening?
If snot starts flowing, it's a total disaster.
As Pastel flailed to calm her emotions, Grace watching her felt her breath catch.
This wasn't the Craft family head she'd expected.
She'd assumed that behind the pretty, cute appearance lay a pitch-black interior, but this was truly just a child of that age.
"Sorry, I can't control it. Really sorry."
Pastel wiped her tears and sniffled.
Grace hurriedly pulled out a handkerchief.
"H-Here, use this."
Her hand trembled as she handed it over.
"Thank you. I'm really sorry. Just give me a moment. I can calm down soon."
The child wiped her tears, blew her nose, folded the handkerchief, and blew again.
The sight of the child trying not to be a burden in a formal setting.
Grace's heart ached. She recalled the blatant tactics she'd just used.
She knew full well the hardships. Who in the empire didn't know of the Craft family's fall?
Yet she'd deliberately brought up the dark family history to twist the fragile heart, probe for weaknesses, and peek inside.
Pretending friendly comfort, she'd stirred memories and emotions to gain the upper hand—pure selfishness.
And the result?
The child tried to hold back tears, then apologized repeatedly while wiping uncontrollable ones.
Reports had said she was bright and cheerful, with a beautiful smile and lively laugh.
How many wounds hid behind that brightness? And how coldly had she pried into them for her own gain?
Her gaze fell on the death notices and condolence jewels.
This child, who sent money to vassals' families even while starving herself, and here she was...
Grace's mind reeled.
Self-interest flew far away, replaced by conscience filling her heart.
The trading house head ceased to be one.
The now-calmed child smiled brightly.
"Thank you. I'll launder the handkerchief and return it! Super clean!"
"Ah, no. You can keep it."
It was hard to meet the child's eyes. She fanned herself lightly with trembling hands.
"A-Anyway, what brings you here, Marquess?"
Grace felt like she owed this pitiful child anything—living expenses or whatever. It had become a sense of duty.
"Ah! Right."
The child smiled brightly, then quickly put on a serious face.
How many wounds hide behind that smile?
How much effort behind that shift?
Some pitiful goal sure to break her heart would come.
The kind adult opened her heart wide, ready to yield.
And Pastel, spotting the opening, struck coldly in business mode.
"It's about establishing and entrusting operations of a trading house under the student council. Since we've chatted long enough, let's discuss approval and profit split right away."
Smuggling...?
Cold reality hit the trading house head.
The kind adult was swept away before grasping the situation.
#
Pastel washed her face.
Splash, splash.
Rub, rub.
Splash, splash.
"Pha!"
She dried her face with a fluffy towel.
"Whew, I was so focused on negotiating I didn't notice the tear stains. No wonder the head kept staring strangely the whole time—must've looked ridiculous."
Embarrassing.
"But we got a good deal, right?"
Grace, head of the trading house, would handle everything from establishing to operating the student council's trading house, taking a cut of the profits. Capital provided by the student council.
Of course, the owner was Pastel.
A whopping 100% shares.
Whoa.
But Grace handles management and student council provides capital—why is Pastel the owner?
The reason is...
Just because.
The vice student council president, general affairs director, planning director, publicity director, volunteer director, and guidance director simply wrote Pastel as owner instead of the student council on the official contract.
Hooray.
『Excellent terms. If that head makes deals like this daily, she should quit being a merchant.』
That good?
Pride swells.
"I nailed the timing! She got flustered when the mood shifted while I was crying—I could see it! She couldn't adapt to the change! She's clearly only negotiated in serious or relaxed atmospheres before!"
A classic weakness of elite-course types. Unintentional, but a perfect opening.
"So I pushed straight into negotiation!"
While her mind was confused, bam bam bam with all the clauses.
"Handing Professor Carlo's intro letter to staff ahead without revealing the purpose added synergy! New topics hitting all at once made her even more flustered!"
This is business mode.
Pastel felt proud of her own intellect.
"She was so out of it she couldn't even collect her thoughts!"
Hahaha.
"I wonder if I went too hard on Head Maid Emma's sister. Did I push too much on a whim?"
Still, business is business, so besides this contract, she'll give something extra.
Like a fruit basket (gold bars).
Pastel chuckled to herself, then wiped her still-damp face with the towel from all the chattering.
Whoa, this towel is super fluffy.
『Young Craft.』
"Yes?"
Pastel paused fiddling with the towel and looked down at the sword.
『Don't lose yourself in life.』
Huh.
"What do you mean?"
『...Never mind. Live without worries. Just brightly.』
Demonius was really hard to understand sometimes.
Too old maybe?
Gasp.
That's seriously rude!
Attacking the elderly beyond lese-majeste!
Eek!
No thrill of taboo even.
Reeling from her conscience, Pastel scurried back to the parlor. I didn't think anything!
In the parlor, Grace the trading house head was staring at the contract with a haggard face.
Oh no.
Was the deal too harsh on Head Maid Emma's sister after all?
Should she give up more than half the shares?
Her resolve weakening rapidly, Pastel approached hesitantly.
"Head...?"
Grace looked back.
"Ah. You're back."
"The terms are a bit much, right?"
100% shares is overkill.
She scratched her head and grinned like an idiot.
Hahaha.
Grace silently looked at the contract, then shook her head.
"It's fine. Smuggling under student council authority has huge merits. The profit split is low, but the safety is unmatched. Plus, I can snag some personal perks here and there."
"Aha!"
Even in that state, she considered what to consider.
This is the dignity of a trading house head?
Relief.
Grace gave her a complex look—probing yet pitying.
Huh.
"What's wrong?"
The head shook her head.
"More importantly, even using the academy's airships, manpower is the issue, so establishing the Craft trading house right away will be tough."
Uh-oh.
"I'd need to pull key personnel and resources from my house, but we're swamped with pirate subjugation right now—no leeway. Same for other houses."
"Ahh."
No way.
Auto-smuggling in temporary maintenance mode?
Pastel felt deep resentment toward the pirates.
"For Head Maid Emma's sister to be in trouble because of nasty pirates—I can't just stand by!"
She shot up from her seat.
"That pirate subjugation! I'll help!"
Pastel stared at the head with a noble-like face.
She gracefully touched her chest.
"Pastel Love Craft, head of the Craft family, gladly offers aid to Head Maid Emma's sister!"
With utmost honor!
Hooray.