NOVEL NEXT Chapter 75
After a long journey, Patrick, the eldest son of Marquis Stephan, returned home.
For the next three years, he shut himself in his room, pondering and agonizing until he finally decided to publish his autobiography.
He dreamed of sharing the wide range of impressions and immense realizations he’d gained during his time away with Kletan’s high society…
Publishing an autobiography held great significance for the nobles of Kletan.
It was considered almost as important as a noble young lady’s debut in society.
Therefore, Marquis Stephan spared no expense for his reclusive son who had shut himself in his room after returning from the journey.
“Money is no issue—make sure Patrick’s autobiography is promoted with full force!”
“We’ll place advertisements for the young master’s autobiography in every magazine, and with approval from the administration, we’ll post them on the capital’s bulletin boards too!”
But alas, life never goes according to plan.
Before the ink on the pages had even dried, a bolt from the blue struck.
“M-My lord! The central bookstore in the capital is refusing to display the young master’s autobiography!”
“Why on earth not!?”
“They say there’s this new thing called a comic book… and because of it, even the magazines are offering to return the advertising fees and cancel the ads!”
“There are dozens of pages in those magazines, and they can’t spare even one for my son’s autobiography!?”
“Well… yes, sir.”
Even so, thanks to Marquis Stephan’s tearful efforts, the autobiography did manage to generate some modest sales.
Exactly equal to the number of people in the Stephan household.
“Father, was my writing really that terrible?”
“Just think of it as a stroke of bad luck, Patrick. A man must grit his teeth and endure.”
The marquis did his utmost to console his disheartened son.
In truth, he was seething inside—but perhaps he simply didn’t have the courage to object to the comic book craze that had completely taken over the empire’s high society…
At any rate, convincing themselves that it was all just bad timing, they had little time to recover from the first blow before facing another hardship.
“Can you see that soft, flowing sheen? These crystal silk curtains are going to be our trump card.”
“You’ve worked so hard to make this happen, Your Lordship!”
“Nonsense, it’s you, Robert, who’s been running back and forth across the eastern continent—ha ha ha!”
“This will create quite the stir in high society.”
But then—
Just before launching sales of the crystal silk curtains, something called “blackout curtains” suddenly appeared and ruined everything.
Historically, nobles had always preferred bright sunlight streaming indoors.
So how did curtains that blocked out light become so popular?
Marquis Stephan couldn’t understand it. No matter how much he slashed prices or ramped up promotions, the silk curtains just wouldn’t sell.
And so… the crystal silk curtains, which he had prepared as his trump card, ended up stashed away in a warehouse without ever seeing the light of day.
If he could collect all the tears he shed back then, they’d probably fill one of the imperial palace’s ponds.
Recalling those events, Marquis Stephan’s face twisted with anger.
‘I suffered massive losses back then.’
And to make matters worse, something happened recently that was like rubbing salt into an open wound.
“W-What is this!? What’s on my precious curtains!?”
“Gasp, it’s mold, my lord! It seems the silk is just too sensitive a material…”
“Mold? Mold!? Aaaaaaagh!”
Black mold blooming across the pristine white fabric.
Now that they couldn’t even be put back on the market, he was left shouldering a massive loss. Who wouldn’t bear a grudge in that situation?
To top it all off, there was the infamous “magic teacup” incident that delivered the final blow to his patience.
Marquis Stephan had spent an astronomical sum over five years developing a magical teacup that could maintain the temperature of tea.
And he’d had to grovel to those fussy mages in the tower to do it!
…What happened next was all too predictable.
Because the product was targeted solely at nobles and the development costs were so high, the teacups were priced at 5 million tri each. Meanwhile, thermoses and tumblers already on the market cost only 10,000 to 20,000 tri—and worked perfectly well.
In fact, their performance was so good that even Marquis Stephan secretly used one of the detested tumblers as his personal liquor cup.
‘As much as I hate to admit it, when they’re dumping filth on you directly, what choice do you have but to take it?’
Just thinking about how he’d nearly lost everything because of that damned Duke Blaire made Stephan so furious he could wake from sleep in a cold sweat.
‘This isn’t over, Duke Blaire.’
So long as he had the empire’s crown prince, Raiden, firmly on his side…!
He had nothing to fear.
* * *
After the uproar at the ducal estate had subsided—
I was summoned to the capital by the Empress.
Originally, the Duke was supposed to accompany me, but he had to remain behind.
Ever since the mass returns of the blackout curtains, the duchy had been in disarray, and he had to personally go around restoring order.
‘I’ll be fine on my own.’
There was no point in sitting around wringing my hands. Steeling myself, I relaxed my stiff lips as I glanced at my reflection in the palace wall.
‘No one can spit on a smiling face.’
After a short wait, I was brought before the Empress for the first time in a long while—and the situation was worse than I expected. I clenched the hem of my dress tightly.
“Lady.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Whenever she spoke about comics or merchandise, the Empress always wore a gentle smile, but now her expression had gone completely cold.
There was no overt hostility, but the shift in her demeanor told me this meeting would be far from comfortable.
And sure enough—
She skipped the formalities and dove straight into her displeasure.
“You’ve heard the disturbing rumors spreading across the empire, haven’t you?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
She didn’t need to explain. I already knew what the “rumors” referred to.
The blackout curtains. The tumblers.
The stigma that had been cast on all the comic-related merchandise we’d released so far.
“As a devoted reader of Safety rules for duke’s haunted manor, I cannot stand by while such disgraceful gossip lingers.”
“……”
“That’s why I want you to get to the bottom of this, Lady. Personally.”
I couldn’t nod easily at those words.
We hadn’t even found the source of the rumors yet. It was too early to make promises.
Noticing my hesitant reaction, the Empress doubled down with an even colder tone.
“If something created with my financial support turned out to be flawed, someone will have to take responsibility.”
She didn’t say who—but it was obvious she meant me.
And in that moment, I realized I’d grown far too used to the Empress’s usual kindness toward me.
‘I forgot—this is a woman from a blood-soaked tale.’
This was the same woman who stirred up a storm to make her son the crown prince.
Empress Oriana had been the one to drive Duke Blaire back to his territory without even giving him time to mourn his mother.
That meant this wasn’t a situation I could smooth over with a smile or a flimsy excuse.
“I will do everything I can to uncover the truth, Your Majesty.”
“You’d better.”
With a resolute tone, the Empress turned sharply on her heel.
And in that moment, I knew—
She was sincerely giving me one last chance.