A fortune-telling princess Chapter 188

He had told Juella to make an effort to get close to Lady Camilla. Even went as far as arranging a special occasion for them to connect. And yet—this is what she chose to do?

“Making junk like that…”

He had never been fond of Juella’s obsession with sewing scraps of fabric since she was little.

If it had stayed a hobby—just a bit of embroidery here and there—he could have ignored it. But she spent all day making doll clothes.

“Maybe blood will out after all.”

He had offered her as much money as she needed for gifts. She could’ve given out jewelry, ornaments—anything! But instead, she threw away the opportunity with her own hands!

And now he was being told that her immature behavior might’ve made Camilla misunderstand his eldest son, Mantis? That was the final straw.

“Count Bakes?”

Just as he prepared to storm off and properly discipline Juella, a voice stopped him cold.

“We meet again.”

“Lady Camilla?”

Count Bakes blinked in surprise at Camilla’s sudden appearance. She approached him with a bright smile.

“What brings you here…?”

“I dropped by to thank you. I really loved the gift Lady Juella gave me last time.”

“…Pardon?”

His jaw fell open before he could stop himself. She seriously liked that doll?

He was speechless for a moment but quickly recovered and greeted her with a wide smile.

“That’s wonderful to hear. I’m glad you liked it. If you have the time, may I offer you some tea? We’ve just received a fine new batch.”

“As long as I’m not imposing.”

“Not at all!”

They made their way to the parlor. Just moments earlier, his face had been twisted with anger. Now, he looked positively radiant.

“I hope the previous gathering wasn’t lacking in any way. My daughter can be quite… inexperienced.”

“Not at all. It was a lovely event. And I really adored the gift.”

As they made small talk, Camilla’s gaze briefly flicked to the necklace around the Count’s neck. The red gem still hung there.

“Oh, I have something for you.”

“For me?”

Camilla handed him a small box. Curious, the Count opened it—and his face turned puzzled.

Inside was a ring. An unfamiliar silvery mineral sparkled in the box.

“It’s a sacred artifact, created through my prayers.”

“…What?!”

At the word “sacred artifact,” his eyes widened, and he looked at the ring anew with reverence.

[Sacred artifact, my foot.]

‘Shh, quiet!’

Arena, the priest ghost trailing Camilla as always, snickered.

Sure, the ring sparkled prettily—but it was just a worthless mineral found near the newly discovered mana stones.

Basically, it was magical residue—leftover scraps drained of energy by the higher-grade stones. Not that anyone knew that yet.

And since it looked nice enough, Camilla decided to make good use of it for today’s plan.

“The Divine said this to me: Those who carry this sacred artifact will join Him after death.”

The Count inhaled sharply, eyes brimming with awe.

As a man of faith since childhood, what greater honor could there be than to rest at the Divine’s side after death?

And knowing that Camilla was being revered as a Saintess by the Church, he didn’t question her for even a moment.

“However, there is one problem.”

“A problem? If anything concerns you, please speak freely.”

His voice grew more formal, posture straighter—ready to obey whatever she said.

“That necklace you’re wearing.”

“…The necklace?”

His hand instinctively went to the red gem at his neck.

Camilla shook her head slightly, her expression filled with regret.

“Unfortunately, that sacred artifact and my divine power aren’t compatible.”

“…I’m not sure I follow.”

How could a Church-issued artifact be incompatible with a Saintess’s divine power?

“I’m not exactly sure myself… but whenever I’m near it, the artifact starts to fracture.”

She paused for a moment and sighed lightly.

“As long as you wear the ring I gave you, you must avoid that necklace. Otherwise, they’ll clash.”

“But this necklace…”

He had paid an exorbitant sum for it—hoping it might ease his long-term illness. Since wearing it, he’d felt the pain lessen. Not gone, but noticeably reduced.

That’s why it wasn’t easy to part with.

Camilla, catching his hesitation, cast out another well-baited hook.

“Your left knee has been troubling you a lot, hasn’t it?”

“…! How did you—?!”

How else? When she had a chatty ghost following her around like this.

[His knee is full of inflammation. He’s been using the wrong meds for ages. The inflammation just got worse. What quack treated him like this?!]

Arena clucked her tongue repeatedly while inspecting the Count’s body closely.

[For this kind of inflammation…]

“There’s a fruit called Lusvelly that only grows in the northern regions. If you get some and take it twice a day, it should help quite a bit.”

“Lusvelly…?”

“It’s not cheap, but it’s not hard to find.”

“Well…”

“No pressure. If you feel your current artifact is more important, I understand. For some people, life here and now matters more than what comes after. Even if that means ending up in hell.”

“H-Hell?!”

As Camilla reached out to retrieve the ring, the Count quickly reacted.

“N-No! That won’t be necessary!”

With frantic energy, he removed the red necklace and immediately slipped the ring she gave him onto his finger.

“It fits perfectly.”

…Though it looks a bit big. But hey, if he says it fits, it fits.

Next time, she’d make a necklace version. Rings were too tricky.

“I’ll treasure it.”

“The Divine’s blessing will remain with you. And that necklace is still valuable—do keep it safe. When the power in the ring fades, I’ll let you know. You can return to wearing the necklace then.”

“Truly?”

The idea that he could still use the pricey necklace later made the Count beam.

‘Not that I ever plan to tell him that.’

She just didn’t want him selling or giving it to anyone else. If he thought he’d use it again someday, he’d keep it to himself.

Knock knock.

The door opened—and Juella entered.

She must have heard Camilla had arrived.

Her gaze darted between the Count and Camilla with a flicker of uncertainty.

“Came to hang out.”

“Hang… out?”

Juella echoed the words blankly, then quickly smoothed her expression under her father’s watchful eyes.

“Welcome.”

Girl really needed acting lessons. That forced smile was painful to watch.

“May I borrow your daughter for a little while?”

“Of course.”

When Camilla referred to Juella as a friend, the Count’s smile grew even wider.

“Let’s go to your room.”

Juella, wearing an even more baffled expression, followed as Camilla swiftly left the parlor. The two headed straight for Juella’s room.

***

“Whoa…”

As soon as they entered, Camilla let out a breath of admiration.

Dolls lined the room from corner to corner.

“What do you want?”

“No ‘have a seat’? No tea?”

Juella frowned at her, irritated.

“I mean, really. Count! She didn’t even offer—”

“Fine, fine! Sit!”

That’s more like it.

Camilla took a seat and glanced around again.

On the table was an unfinished doll outfit—likely something Juella had been working on just now. Camilla picked it up.

“What are you doing?! Give it!”

Juella flushed and snatched it from her hand.

She was sure Camilla, like her father, would mock her for playing with dolls like a child.

Haa…

Still, she’d taken a big risk by giving that doll gift. She had wanted—just once—to show people what she enjoyed and was good at.

Her father would be furious, but…

If just one person liked something she made, that was enough.

“You know…”

Camilla spoke again, and Juella instinctively looked away. Of course, she was about to get scolded.

“Let’s go into business together.”

“…What?”

What did she just say?

“Business? With me?”

“Yep.”

“Pfft…”

Juella let out a disbelieving laugh.

“Is this a joke?”

Why was she suddenly talking about business? With her?

“This.”

Camilla pointed toward something.

“This?”

Juella followed her finger. It was pointing to the doll outfit she’d just grabbed.

“…You want to sell dolls?”

Definitely a joke.

Juella sighed, unsure how to respond.

Still, her father had said to build rapport—so maybe this wasn’t the time to get into another hair-pulling brawl.

“Not the dolls. The outfits.”

“You want to sell doll clothes?”

“More precisely, I want to make real clothes based on your doll designs and sell them.”

“…What?”

“Let’s sell fashion—designed by you.”

Juella blinked, wide-eyed, as Camilla calmly surveyed the room.

Yep, I was right.

When she’d first seen that teddy bear from Juella, she’d felt it—despite being a bear, it had a strangely regal air.

Even with those tiny, dot-like eyes, the bear had dignity.

Why?

Didn’t take her long to figure it out—it was the clothes.

“Your designs—I like them.”

Having spent years in the entertainment industry, Camilla had a discerning eye for style.

If her standards were impressed, that meant there was business potential.

She’d scouted many boutiques since arriving in this world—but none had clothing that rivaled Juella’s doll outfits.

She was certain of it: This is going to work.