Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 61

As Eirik opened the door to the parlor, a familiar face bowed with a somewhat rough accent.

“Greetings, Lord Cladnier.”

Eirik dismissed the attendants and took a seat, gesturing for the deputy commander of the Crispin Marquisate to sit.

“Have a seat. What’s your name?” he asked, despite already knowing it.

The deputy commander, his face flushed, bowed his head. “I apologize for not introducing myself earlier… My name is Toven.”

Being a commoner, he has no surname. Eirik nodded and took the envelope Toven handed him.

“Here is gold equivalent to 100,000 Jeres and a document stating that the Crispin Marquisate will not charge the Cladnier family for using the Nieas Harbor for the next 50 years.”

This is a good start. Eirik opened the envelope, confirmed the contents, and looked up at Deputy Commander Toven.

“That’s one-fifth of the 500,000 Jeres. I’m concerned about how the remaining compensation will be arranged over the next three years.”

Toven was flustered. The fact that the head of the house hadn’t come himself, nor had a vassal, but merely a deputy commander of the knights—a commoner with a weak position—had been sent as a representative to the Cladnier family was telling.

Eirik’s eyes gleamed. This indicated that Rakane Crispin had seized real power within the Marquisate.

“The Crispins probably wants to sweep this matter under the rug, don’t they?” Eirik’s ostensibly threatening remark made Toven quickly wave his hands.

“Not at all, sir. This year’s sum is low because it was prepared urgently. However…”

“Indeed. I don’t expect a mere deputy commander of the knights to have a proper grasp of the house’s finances.”

“Quite right, sir. The truth is…” Toven’s face flushed even more.

“The young lady has entrusted me with a discreet message. I was sent in place of Sir Hayel Crispin, the marquis’s nephew, who was supposed to come.”

“I see.”

“The young lady wishes to negotiate with you, Lord Cladnier.”

This part was expected. However…

“We are willing to meet any of your demands, including… including herself.”

This development was unexpected. Eirik’s face instantly darkened.

“I will pretend I didn’t hear that last part.”

“My apologies, sir.”

Nevertheless, Toven seemed somewhat relieved. Eirik inwardly clicked his tongue and stated his requirements.

“Which is the most secluded monastery in the Crispin Marquisate?”

“That would be the Mashirat Monastery, situated on a cliff fortress, accessible only four times a year.”

“I need to send someone there. Ensure he is kept whole and unharmed for about ten years and then returned.”

“That won’t be a problem at all.”

With that, the request from Mrs. Manere was resolved.

“And one more thing, this one is a bit more complicated.”

After a brief, intentional pause, Eirik began to speak slowly. “Our territory in Cladis has been quite noisy lately.”

Toven looked puzzled.

“……”

“You know the harvest hasn’t been good, and every year it’s a struggle. Since the soldiers returned from the war, the situation has been quite dire.”

“I see,” Toven responded.

“The Crispin side must be aware that we purchased grain from Marquis Hetab.”

“Yes, I was under the impression that had resolved the issue to some extent…” Toven trailed off.

Eirik continued in a calm tone, “Food is something difficult to estimate and predict accurately unless you’re the ones consuming it. So, with the merchant ships passing through Nieas Harbor, many of our territory’s people might cross over.”

“Excuse me?” Toven asked, clearly taken aback.

“Young men, mainly, looking for work and planning to bring their families over later. They might carry a bit of simple armor and a sword, given their training. I’m asking for your understanding on this matter in advance,” Eirik explained.

“So, from our side…?” Toven prompted.

“I mean, you should turn a blind eye if a mercenary group from Cladis forms at Nieas Harbor,” Eirik clarified.

Toven, who had already received orders from Rakane Crispin to reduce the amount of the compensation by any means necessary, looked conflicted. “I understand. Knowing this in advance will allow us to prepare.”

“There won’t be more than 300,” Eirik reassured him.

“That’s quite a number,” Toven noted.

“Nieas Harbor is about a day and a half’s journey from the capital,” Eirik continued. Having finished positioning the elite troops who could each handle a hundred men, he stood up. “That’s why I’m informing you in advance. Once it’s confirmed that they’ve settled in properly, I’ll return half of the gold bars received today.”

“Th-thank you,” Toven stammered.

“And for any further requests for cooperation, can we go through the Falciarc Guild?” Eirik asked.

“Yes, my uncle is the guild master. I believe you already know that,” Toven confirmed.

“Then we’ll handle the return of the gold through them as well,” Eirik concluded.

***

“That means the Capital Guard is under the Central Defense Force. The Capital Guard is led by Hayel, the nephew of the head of House Crispin, but there’s no need to remember that. Just remember that the capital is under Crispin, outside the capital are the local lords, and the border is under Cladnier.”

“Madam.”

“What is it?”

The young maid, sitting in front of Margravine Cladnier, hesitated before speaking cautiously.

“Well, you don’t need to explain everything in such detail. I already know.”

“Of course you do. But just in case.”

Margravine Cladnier had been explaining the organizational structure and families of the various institutions to the new maid for three days now, sitting next to her daughter-in-law, Eirik’s wife, Miesa, who was snoring softly.

“Shall we move on to the Ministry of Finance?”

“My sister married into the family of Count Silanz, the Minister of Finance, so I’m familiar with that as well.”

“Even so, it’s important to hear about the Silanz family from our family’s perspective.”

The new maid listened with a troubled expression as Margravine Cladnier continued her explanation. The discussion eventually shifted to the Carlisle family.

“…And that’s how the Carlisle family, which holds the position of Minister of State, gained the king’s favor and power. The Countess of Carlisle is apparently close to the Marchioness of Crispin, which naturally puts us at odds.”

“…Madam,” the young maid, looking uneasy, finally spoke up in a tearful voice.

“I’m sorry, but I just don’t understand,” the maid said.

“What don’t you understand?”

“Why are you spending so much time in the young madam’s bedroom? And a few days ago, when you asked me to check on Mrs. Edil in the basement confinement room…” the young maid stammered, her voice breaking.

“She said the family is in decline and that we shouldn’t just watch it happen. She said the young master has become a fool because of one woman,” the maid continued.

“That’s what she said. But what do you think?” Margravine Cladnier asked calmly.

“This one woman is putting the family in danger,” the maid replied.

“So, do you think getting rid of the Lord’s wife will solve the problem?” Margravine Cladnier asked.

The young maid hesitated, unable to answer. At that moment, the door opened. Margravine Cladnier slowly turned to see Eirik standing there with a stern expression.

“I happened to overhear,” Eirik said.

“Yes. It seems these matters have left my hands now. I leave Edil in your care,” Margravine Cladnier said, shaking her head and sighing.

“Madam! Madam!”

Vallek, who had been standing in the hallway, dragged the maid out. Margravine Cladnier, with a serene expression, reopened her book and continued reading aloud to Miesa, who was still snoring softly.

“So, I mentioned the Minister of State Affairs. Countess Carlisle is the one who incited the Marchioness of Crispin to harm you,” Margravine Cladnier said, her gaze fixed on Miesa’s fingertips, the page of the book left unturned.

“They acquired the poison and passed it to Maleca. And then…” She paused, simply watching Miesa.

“My daughter, Rosier, was a very delicate and small child,” Margravine Cladnier resumed, the topic has shifted dramatically.

“Unfortunately, after giving birth to her, I fell gravely ill. By the time I recovered and got up from my sickbed, she was already six years old, having grown so much.”

In the quiet room, Margravine Cladnier’s voice resonated softly.

“She found it hard to approach the mother who had given birth to her, sneaking glances at me from afar. When our eyes met, she would run away, but whenever I spoke, she would perk up her ears, trying not to miss a word. It broke my heart to see her like that.”

The Margravine reminisced about her late daughter, her tone almost lyrical.

“Wherever I went, her pretty eyes followed me silently. She never said a word, just watched. And I could only watch her from a distance too. Then…”

Margravine Cladnier paused to catch her breath before continuing. “Then, one day, Rosier was cruelly taken from me, trampled by the horse of a drunken knight. How could I have remained sane after that?”

She slowly rose to her feet. “Thanks to Rosier, I developed the habit of observing someone’s actions without looking directly at them. Using reflections in a glass cabinet or a teapot, for example.”

***