Side Story 1
Translator: RaidenTL
Side Story 1
“Did you see this morning’s paper?”
“Oh, of course! I saw it.”
“After seeing Her Highness the Princess Consort on the front page, even the most expensive magazine ads look dull in comparison.”
“Right? And having His Highness the Crown Prince with her makes the whole picture look even more magnificent, doesn’t it?”
“I’d love to see a photo of her with Prince Noah, though…”
Early that morning, nearly everyone on the street held a copy of the morning paper. The front page was dominated by a massive photograph that took up almost half the space.
In the picture, Princess Consort Olivia was stepping down from a carriage, her hand held by none other than Crown Prince Usher Astrid.
“If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think it was Prince Noah.”
“Oh, please. What are you talking about? You can tell it’s the Crown Prince at a glance. They have completely different auras.”
“Who doesn’t know that? I’m just saying the resemblance is close enough to tide me over.”
“We should just give up. I heard the Princess Consort only agrees to interviews on the condition that they don’t publish any photos or information about Prince Noah.”
“Isn’t that just a rumor?”
“Who knows? It’s just what I heard. Oh, but look—the photo in the Heritage Newspaper is a bit more dashing. Should I switch my subscription? Say, could you cut out that front-page photo for me?”
“I’m starting a collection myself, so I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
Why would I ever give away such a magnificent photo?
Clutching the newspaper to her chest, the woman hurried away.
While the citizens on the street were gushing over the photo of Olivia and Usher, the unfortunate Meson Lortar took one look at the front page upon arriving at work and immediately hung his head.
Who on earth invented these cursed things called newspapers and cameras?
He wished every last newspaper and camera company would go bankrupt.
Just then, a resigned murmur drifted from nearby.
“So, it’s going to be one of those days.”
It was a strange sentence, lacking both a subject and an object, yet Meson—and everyone else in the lobby frantically checking the news—understood its meaning perfectly.
Lately, one thing had become a more accurate predictor of their daily fortune than any fortuneteller: the newspaper.
“We’re doomed. I have something I need to get signed today.”
“Can’t you push it back?”
“No. I’ve already delayed it for a week. If I push it back any further, I might as well just write my resignation letter.”
At that, his colleagues, filled with a sudden surge of camaraderie, approached with gleaming eyes.
“We can’t have that. I’ll give up my spot in the queue. Go get it signed as soon as he arrives.”
And tell us all about the aftermath later.
“You heartless bastards!”
There is no glory for the procrastinator. The man who had delayed his paperwork for a week slumped his shoulders, his expression pitiful.
“Yesterday would have been so much better…”
Just then, someone tapped him on the shoulder. When the dejected man turned, he saw a colleague smirking.
“You think you have it bad?”
But the man who could laugh in the face of such hardship was truly in a class of his own.
That first-class man, Meson Lortar, spread his arms wide and shouted to the crowd.
“Everyone, look upon me and take comfort!”
Because I’m the one who has to spend the entire day with a lion whose mood was dragged through the mud the second he returned from his business trip!
Dammit!
The flower of the Herod Royal Family.
Duke Noah Rosemond Astrid, Representative of the Norfolk Investment Company and Co-representative of the Herod Magic Dome Company.
He was a man who made you reasonably suspect that God had dozed off while creating him and accidentally poured in every blessing imaginable.
But for someone born with everything, why on earth was he born without the crucial virtue of compassion?
No, it wasn’t that he was born without it, which made it all the more maddening. He simply chose to display it only when it suited him. And “when it suited him” meant that Olivia Rosemond Astrid was thoroughly convinced her husband was the kindest man in the world.
Kind?
Ha. The thought was enough to leave one speechless.
“If you’re bringing me something that should have been approved a week ago, I expect a justification for that delay to be readily apparent.”
“…I am sorry, sir.”
“I don’t need your apologies or excuses.”
“Y-Your Grace…”
“Take it back. Since this is a result I could have just as easily ignored, bring it back to me by this afternoon. And it goes without saying that the result had better be worth the wait.”
Noah Astrid wasn’t the type to vent his anger with emotional outbursts. Instead, he targeted a person’s sorest spots with a precision sharper and more heartless than anyone else.
As the first man in the signing queue fled on the verge of tears, Noah leaned back in his chair, his expression cold. Seeing him rub his thumb and index finger together, it was clear he was desperate for a cigarette.
Yet, he didn’t light one. Meson knew why. In fact, the entire nation probably knew. A front-page story from some time ago had mentioned that Princess Consort Olivia disliked the smell of cigarettes.
What a two-faced bastard.
Just as Meson muttered the thought, Noah’s gaze snapped toward him.
“Eek!”
As Meson flinched, his superior’s lips twisted into a cruel smirk.
“Were you busy cursing me in your head?”
“Of course not, sir!”
Meson shamelessly feigned innocence and quickly placed a thick envelope on the desk. It contained the report from a rather long business trip.
Noah stared intently at the envelope before a thin smile touched his lips. His long fingers toyed with the string sealing it, slowly unwinding it.
Let’s see what that unkillable bastard in Polder has been yapping about now.
With elegant movements, he pulled out the thick stack of papers and scanned them leisurely. Then, he took a slow breath and looked up at the ceiling. A relaxed smile played on his lips, but he was holding his breath.
Meson raised an eyebrow and spoke.
“He tried to publish it through six different houses. I made sure every one of them refused, and I’ve silenced them all. You have nothing to worry about.”
Only then did Noah exhale and nod. After placing the thick stack of documents into his safe himself, he patted Meson on the shoulder.
“Good work.”
“It was nothing, sir.”
A faint smile still lingering on his face, Noah’s gaze drifted back to the newspaper. He flipped through the papers from various companies and let out a sharp, mocking laugh.
“Honestly, the so-called skill of these photographers is a joke. If they can’t even capture half of her actual beauty, they should just quit.”
“……”