Chapter 141

“Have a safe journey.”

“Of course. You’re even lending us an escort force.”

Joyce and Cledwyn exchanged a firm, brief handshake.

Although the siblings had only stayed for a few weeks, the luggage they were taking south had grown severalfold. The same was true for their entourage.

Some of the most elite knights of the Platinum from Maindulante, along with exceptional soldiers conscripted from nearby territmories, were assigned to escort duty and ready to depart. While there were certainly some escorts from the MacKinnon family, since this was a goodwill-based visit, their numbers had been limited. Now, however, the entourage looked formidable.

“I hope nothing happens, but even if it does, our knights are going with you, so it’ll be fine. Be careful, Di.”

“Yeah! I’m more worried about you. Don’t get sick, okay?”

“I won’t.”

While Cledwyn and Joyce exchanged farewells, Nerys and Diane reluctantly said their goodbyes. The two young ladies embraced tightly as Nerys’s mother looked on warmly.

Diane clung to Nerys, unwilling to part. When it was finally time to let go, she politely greeted Nerys’s mother.

“Mother, we’ll be heading in now.”

“Yes, Miss Diane. Take care on your way.”

“Please, I told you to just call me Di.”

“All right, Di. I do hope you arrive safely without any trouble.”

Even though Diane was her daughter’s friend, Nerys’s mother always addressed her with respect due to the clear difference in their social status. Diane felt a bit sad about that, but she understood, so she made a point to be even more friendly.

“Let’s go, Di.”

Worried Diane might cling to the columns of White Swan Castle if left alone, Joyce stepped in. He bowed politely to Nerys’s mother and to Nerys. Though they’d already exchanged farewells several times, he did it once more.

“May peace and health be always with you.”

“And with you as well, Sir.”

Mother and daughter lifted the hems of their skirts in a perfectly mirrored gesture of respect. Joyce then turned his gaze to Joan, who stood beside them.

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Yes.”

Since the Moriér Merchant Group’s current main business involved supplying medicine to the south, Joan couldn’t stay in Maindulante forever. Even if the main office moved here, she still needed to maintain southern ties. Nerys had also given her a personal mission.

So she, too, planned to leave Maindulante before summer’s end. Joyce’s words were a suggestion to continue close cooperation when the time came.

As she replied “Yes” with a confident smile, Joan looked very much like a seasoned merchant. Joyce could clearly feel her energy.

‘What remarkable people.’

Currently, the Empire’s top three merchant groups had all grown their fortunes based on inherited wealth dating back at least to their grandfathers. The mid-sized ones below them usually followed the same pattern.

Starting a business required capital, of course. But more important than that was instinct—knowing what would make money and what kind of mindset to live by. How many had lost fortunes in an instant because they blindly copied what others said worked?

That kind of instinct was hard to acquire unless one had grown up in an environment where it came as naturally as breathing. Or—

‘You’re born with it.’

Joyce had sensed it before, but during these negotiations, he became sure.

Joan Moriér was a genius.

He had once thought it risky that she left the MacKinnon group so soon after joining. After all, if you wanted to do a proper job, you had to learn the ropes from the bottom for several years.

But what she needed was an opportunity like this—one where she could test everything she’d absorbed while being pushed around by Angelo Reyling and watching the MacKinnon group from the inside.

‘She’s going to make it big.’

The confidence of someone who knows they can do more, and the curiosity for the new future that awaits—that positive energy made Joan’s face shine.

Joyce looked at that face for a moment, then deliberately turned away. A faint smile—noticeable only to those who knew him well—tugged at his stoic features.

‘I’m looking forward to it.’

And as for Nerys—well, there was nothing more to be said. His mind was filled with valuable information she had discreetly hinted at during their stay.

From secret social trends unknown to the public to unrecognized new methods of material production—things no one could get their hands on unless they were a prophet.

Of course, he would need to verify these new leads himself, but Joyce had a strong hunch. Even if only a tenth of what Nerys told him turned out to be true, the MacKinnon group would be the top merchant group in the Empire within ten years.

An attendant approached and spoke to Joyce.

“Sir, it’s time to depart.”

The return trip, accompanied by carts loaded with Maindulante’s specialties, would undoubtedly take longer than the journey here. Joyce nodded.

Diane and Joyce soon boarded the carriage. Until the door closed, Diane waved nonstop at Nerys.

“Bye! I’ll come visit again! Take care! Byyyeee!”

Her lingering farewell echoed like a chime even after the carriage started moving. Nerys watched the MacKinnon group’s departure alongside Joan.

They continued to watch until the carriage that passed through the castle gates disappeared down the road.

“It’ll feel lonely. Wherever Miss Diane went, she seemed to brighten the place.”

Ellen came to Nerys’s side with a comforting tone. Nerys smiled.

“That’s true.”

“I hope their journey is safe.”

“It will be.”

Unless Camille intended to frame the siblings for murdering Nerys, she had no reason to harm them.

‘I also added a safeguard.’

Camille had been generating revenue through various ventures under different names. One of them, a trade venture currently struggling to find investors, now included the MacKinnon group thanks to Nerys’s maneuvering. Camille would have every reason to protect them for a while.

‘…Though that business goes under in a couple of years due to a typhoon and never turns a profit. Still, I told them to focus only on parts unrelated to the storm, make quick gains, and get out, so the MacKinnon group should be fine.’

Ellen didn’t know what basis Nerys had for her confidence. But since she trusted the young lady, she smiled softly.

“Then that’s good. Well then, shall we go inside, miss?”

“Let’s.”

As soon as the word “inside” was said, Cledwyn naturally approached Nerys. She took his arm and entered the castle, recalling Ellen’s words.

‘She said it would feel lonely?’

Unlikely. If her guess was right—

Maindulante would soon welcome a guest more troublesome than any it had seen in years.

* * *

“So… you failed?”

The low voice held no inflection.

A secret chamber deep within the Imperial Palace.

The small room, with its fireplace, long chair, and table, resembled a luxurious parlor at a glance. But only one person in the world knew how many had died here in silence and how many bloodstains had been covered with new carpets.

The hem of a voluminous skirt that adorned the plush chair flowed quietly. Its owner slowly stood up.

“…How amusing. Eight of my precious moons have waned. And all I asked for was the corpse of one administrator.”

The slow, weighty tone did not sound amused at all. The man who had reported sensed impending doom.

Her steps toward the table seemed ordinary, yet somehow created a strange sense of pressure for the observer. Each step seemed imbued with meaning and vision beyond ordinary comprehension.

Finally, her navy-blue eyes, pointing to the map spread on the table, shimmered coldly with countless hues.

“I despise the desperate flailing of fools.”

The man immediately dropped to his knees. He didn’t dare breathe too loudly. She glanced at him sideways and offered a chilly smile.

“Are you afraid of me?”

“I am.”

The man answered truthfully, knowing that the truth would please her more.

Indeed, rather than scolding him, she nodded as if it were only natural.

“Good. That’s how it should be. If someone dares not fear royalty, isn’t that the real problem? Especially when I am the heir to the throne.”

The First Princess of the current Imperial family… Camille radiated fury in her cold, shining gaze.

“Cledwyn Maindulante… damnably cunning fellow… I was shocked to hear that he had someone with Jeweled Eyes by his side. So I sent a not-yet-full moon. Isn’t that right? Hmm?”

Camille’s most vital force and arguably the Empire’s top intelligence group: Silver Moon.

Each unit of that shadow division was called a moon by Camille. They appeared to be hidden by clouds, yet in reality, they watched from high above.

A “not-yet-full moon” referred to an agent lacking sufficient skill. To admit this now would mean acknowledging that she’d misjudged the mission’s difficulty—an error unbefitting a master.

The man couldn’t find a single word to say. Camille ignored him and stared at the pieces scattered over the map.

She alone fully understood what each piece meant—her well-trained “full moons” infiltrated across the Empire, targets to be watched or eliminated, and power dynamics in constant struggle.

Many of the great noble territories had moons planted in them. Whether it was a pig herder in a town below a lord’s castle or a maid cleaning a bedroom depended on the lord’s caution. But there were two lands where moons had never risen.

The Elandria Estate posed a challenge, but its father and son had weaknesses. The other land, however, was far more frustrating.

‘Maindulante.’

No matter how many spies she sent, they were always caught. That brat—who couldn’t have received proper education from his late father—somehow managed to govern that vast territory meticulously. Even when outsiders appeared, word spread instantly to neighboring lands due to the locals’ insular culture and deep loyalty to the duke.

He reeked of danger. And now that this cunning young duke had reportedly eliminated all his internal enemies and rallied the people with someone who possessed Jeweled Eyes… how could Camille feel anything but rage?

She didn’t truly believe a Jeweled Eyes bearer had appeared. She thought the fox-like duke had concocted the rumor to diminish the Imperial family’s prestige. As if those provincial peasants could even recognize a true Jeweled Eyes holder?

But upon learning that the person rumored to have Jeweled Eyes was from the Elandria bloodline—a collateral descendant, and the first Jeweled Eyes bearer in a century—Camille, for the first time in ages, lost her composure.

‘There’s a game happening behind my back.’

So she decided to act quickly: kill the target and confirm the corpse. Perhaps too quickly.

Camille opened a drawer built into the table and pulled out a figurine carved from amethyst. She placed it on the map with a sharp click.

Next to a silver-gray crystal piece labeled Penmewick.

“I can’t let it go. Especially if the Jeweled Eyes rumors are true. But… with such tight security, quiet elimination is no longer an option.”

The man realized Camille wasn’t going to punish him and had already moved on to the next phase. Just as he felt a wave of relief, Camille’s voice chilled him again.

“Call Adrian. The Marquis of Tipion has returned to his son. That’s something we can use. That fool didn’t escape on his own, so the duke must have a plan—but whatever it is, if I use it first, it becomes mine.”

When Camille learned that soldiers from the Tipion territory had begun monitoring Ailora, she was furious. That greedy old opportunist dared try to seize a weakness from the Imperial family?

The royal troops she had hidden in Ailora were secretly moved elsewhere. Even the silver mines she had spent years cultivating suddenly encountered problems. So many issues piling up couldn’t be coincidence. She had several of her highly-trained subordinates killed—such things shouldn’t have happened if there hadn’t been leaks.

But who would have guessed that mess would end up being useful?

“If I can’t handle it secretly, I’ll just deal with it officially.”

Camille declared, as sharp and cold as ice.

(T/N: Awesome! Nice, we are moving on to another btch character. I’m excited to see how Nerys will wipe the floor with her.)