A fortune-telling princess Chapter 112

[Follow me this way.]

Turning back now wasn’t an option.

“Are you sure you can stop the snowstorm?”

Camilla kept her voice low as she questioned the ghostly empress.

[Aisla’s fury stems from Mars’ death. She believes I killed him.]

This wasn’t new information; Camilla had already heard the gist of it from the other seasonal spirit kings. Aisla’s rage had frozen the Gracia Empire solid because her descendant now sat on the throne.

“Did you kill him?”

Mariana hesitated, her ghostly gaze flickering with unease.

[…I did.]

So she did kill him. Then what’s the point now?

[She doesn’t know the whole truth. If she learns it, her anger might subside.]

“Then why didn’t you tell her yourself?”

What have you been doing all this time? Now you’re making it my problem?

[Aisla refuses to talk to me.]

That makes sense. After all this time, Aisla’s rage clearly hadn’t faded. If Mariana were to approach her, it wouldn’t lead to a conversation—it’d lead to chaos.

[This way.]

With a heavy sigh, Camilla followed her down the dark corridors.

“Is this the place?”

They arrived at a forgotten underground chamber beneath the royal palace. Dust rose with every step Camilla took, causing her to cough.

“Why does a palace even have a place like this? Ugh, the dust!”

[When the dead linger in one place for too long, it fades from the memory of the living.]

In other words, this had been Mariana’s dwelling for who knows how long.

[Clear this away.]

Mariana gestured to an old rocking chair. Camilla moved it aside, uncovering a small rug. Lifting it revealed a hidden trapdoor.

Descending through the trapdoor led to a cramped room filled with various belongings.

[These are all mementos of my time with Mars.]

Mariana’s touch was reverent and tender as she caressed the items on a shelf. Finally, she pointed to a specific book.

[That’s the one.]

Camilla picked up the indicated book.

[It’s my journal. Everything—the truth—is written in there. You must give it to Aisla.]

Her journal? What could possibly be written in it?

[I’m counting on you.]

“Wait, what?”

Camilla’s eyes widened as Mariana began to fade. The ghostly empress was vanishing, her form growing fainter by the second.

She’s ascending? Just like that? What if I decide not to deliver it? What then?

Mariana disappeared with surprising speed, a serene expression on her face as though a heavy burden had finally been lifted.

“Wow. Seriously?”

Camilla glared down at the journal in her hands, feeling thoroughly duped.

“Should I just toss this thing?”

With a resigned sigh, she carefully tucked the journal away and climbed back up. Yet her relief was short-lived.

‘Oh, come on.’

Mariana hadn’t guided her back to her room. Now she was completely lost in the labyrinthine palace corridors.

‘Should I just brazen it out like I planned?’

To hedge her bets, she’d dressed as opulently as possible before coming here.

[Are you seriously wearing that?]
‘Yes.’
[You’re sneaking into the palace in red?]
‘If I get caught, I’ll need an excuse. Dressing like a thief would only make it worse.’

Getting caught was Plan B, and she’d prepared to claim she’d simply gotten lost or was sightseeing.

That’s right. If I get caught, I’ll just say I got lost—

Step.

‘Ack!’

She froze mid-step as distant footsteps echoed down the corridor. Her mind screamed at her to surrender, but her body instinctively tensed in fear.

Whisk!

“……!”

Someone yanked her into the shadows, a hand clamping over her mouth.

“Shh.”

The familiar voice in her ear belonged to none other than Crown Prince Edsen.

The guards’ footsteps drew closer, then gradually receded. Only after they were gone did Camilla let out a breath of relief and step away.

“What are you doing here?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Edsen’s gaze was sharp with curiosity.

From his perch in a secluded wing, he had spotted Camilla moving suspiciously through the snowstorm earlier. Intrigued, he’d followed her to the palace proper, only to lose sight of her in its labyrinthine halls.

“I didn’t know you were skilled at sneaking around, Lady Camilla.”

Her movements had been swift and sure, as though she knew the palace layout intimately. Yet he had found her again, flustered and cornered by guards.

“Sneaking around? I was just…”

“Just what?”

“……!”

A cold voice cut in from behind. Camilla turned, her face stiffening as she recognized the man standing there: Duke Escra.

“What are you doing here at this hour?”

“We were just—”

Camilla grabbed Edsen’s arm, stopping him before he could speak.

“We came to see you, Duke.”

“Me?”

“Yes. But the palace is so vast, I lost my way.”

Any trace of her earlier panic had disappeared, replaced by a calm smile.

“His Highness must have seen me wandering alone and followed out of concern.”

“And why would you need to see me at this hour?”

“I’d like to propose a deal.”

“…A deal?”

“I assure you, it’ll be one to your benefit.”

Escra’s piercing gaze scrutinized her. Undaunted, Camilla merely smiled.

Watching her bold demeanor, Edsen couldn’t help but shake his head in disbelief.

‘How does she switch gears so quickly?’

The truth was that Camilla’s heart had sunk when Escra appeared, but she masked her nerves. After all, she had survived worse—there was no way she would let herself be branded a thief and executed here.

“A deal, is it?”

When the duke finally relented, Camilla pressed on.

“Must we have this conversation here in the freezing cold?”

She hugged herself and shivered dramatically. The palace corridor was frigid, her heavy coat doing little to fend off the chill.

“Follow me.”

After a brief pause, Escra turned and walked away. Camilla exhaled a quiet sigh of relief and hurried to follow.

***

“Do you have business with me as well, Your Highness?”

Escra’s words broke the silence as they reached his office.

“I’m simply here to ensure Lady Camilla isn’t mistreated.”

Feigning innocence, Edsen maintained a smile.

“So, what’s this deal you mentioned?”

“Duke, perhaps some tea first?”

The ever-dutiful Count Alton, who had yet to leave the office, interrupted with a suggestion as he set a tray on the table. Noticing Camilla’s pale face, he handed her a cup first.

“Please, my lady.”

“Thank you.”

Ah, such kindness. How could someone so courteous work under this cold-blooded man? I’ll never forget this kindness, even after I return to the empire!

As the tea’s warmth seeped into her, she finally relaxed. But there was no time to bask in the comfort; Escra’s eyes bore into her, awaiting her proposal.

“The Gracia Empire primarily imports winter supplies, correct?”

The three men exchanged looks, as if to say, Isn’t that obvious?

“Three years.”

“Three years?”

“For the next three years, I want exclusive rights for my family to supply all non-winter goods.”

The room fell silent. Escra, Alton, and Edsen all stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Non-winter goods?”

“Yes.”

“As in, items for seasons other than winter?”

“That’s right.”

As Escra continued to press the point, Camilla nodded firmly.

“For example, breathable summer fabrics, sunshades, umbrellas, or mid-weight clothing suitable for spring and autumn.”

The more she spoke, the stranger their expressions became.

“Lady Camilla, you do realize…”

“I know. This country has snow year-round.”

“Then what are you suggesting?”

“If you don’t need them, don’t buy them. But if you do, buy only from us.”

“Lady, this is…”

Seeing their confusion, Camilla sweetened the pot.

“As an incentive, I’ll reduce the price of mana stones from our last deal by three percent.”

Escra’s eyes narrowed sharply. Lowering the price of mana stones for such an absurd condition?

After his initial surprise, a flicker of suspicion crossed his face.

“What are you planning?”

What else? It’s a gamble.

Camilla’s hand brushed the journal hidden in her coat.

If this truly calms Aisla, the winter spirit king, then spring will return to the Gracia Empire.

And when it does? The demand for seasonal goods will explode.

‘Who’s going to wear winter clothes in the middle of summer?’