Watching Renoa lower her head, I clicked my tongue silently.
And she’s agonizing over something this trivial.
The ancestral sword of House Brent was an object with an absurd amount of symbolic significance.
The people of the Brent territory firmly believed that as long as they had the sword, they could withstand even a typhoon without suffering any harm. Countless people would willingly step forward to catch a thief if anyone ever stole it.
Their territory was their home, the place where they made their living and where their children would grow up.
Renoa had lived there since childhood, so there was no way she didn’t understand how important the ancestral sword was to the people’s loyalty to House Brent.
And yet, she was still hesitating.
Because she didn’t want to admit she had made a mistake.
She probably can’t even begin to understand how generous it is to settle everything with a single apology.
It was pathetic, but at the same time, that was Renoa for you.
That was why I could still keep my emotions in check and speak to her without stumbling over a single word.
Before entering the dungeon, I had already simulated every possible reaction Renoa might have.
The same went for our parents’ reactions.
And Renoa… wasn’t deviating from my predictions by even an inch.
“That’s the only condition under which you can walk out of here alive without surrendering the ancestral sword.”
“Why the hell should I care about anything those sewer-dwelling thieves have to say?!”
“Well, it doesn’t seem like the Count of Brent agrees with you.”
“…What?”
“He’s already agreed. Rather than handing over the ancestral sword, he’ll let you settle this by apologizing.”
I wasn’t bluffing, nor was I lying. It was the truth.
After accepting my proposal, Rashak had personally contacted Count Brent.
Since the count was still in the capital, he had replied immediately. Remember that ridiculous demand Renoa had tried to make me fulfill, involving the preparation of some absurd meal? I had no idea what had come of that, but in any case, the count was still staying in the capital, and he had accepted our proposal.
And he had chosen to wait for Renoa to apologize.
“Give me… Give me some time to think.”
Renoa’s voice grew quieter.
Unlike Allen, who had grown up with her almost like a sibling, Count Brent was someone she found difficult to deal with, too.
But that wasn’t the end of what I had in mind.
“Unfortunately for you, Marian wasn’t the only person who saw you being dragged out of that dress shop. It was in a busy commercial district, after all.”
Renoa, who had been anxiously biting her lip, suddenly lifted her head.
“There are definitely people wondering where you’ve disappeared to. And the longer you drag this out, the more likely they are to find out what you’re agonizing over.”
“……”
“Do you still need more time to think?”
And what appeared in Renoa’s eyes… was none other than hope.
Hope that she could settle this without apologizing or surrendering the ancestral sword.
“Of course I do. Go ahead and spread the rumors as much as you like, Sister. Make sure you tell everyone that I’m carrying the heir to House Brent, too!”
“…Are you sure you’re okay with that?”
“Absolutely. Oh, and don’t be too disappointed if your boss eventually gives in to public opinion and lets me go.”
She sneered again.
She had absolutely no idea what she had just chosen.
Right. I knew you’d react like this.
I sighed silently and turned away.
After leaving the dungeon, I reported Renoa’s response to Rashak and informed Count Brent of the situation in writing.
And starting that evening—
A rumor began spreading throughout the capital.
The future Countess of Brent would rather sacrifice the future of her territory than utter a single word of apology.
The next day, I was still staying at Rashak’s house.
“Up early, I see.”
“Yes. You too, Boss…”
I still found it strange to come face-to-face with such a large man the moment I stepped out of my room, but I greeted him anyway. He gave a small, amused smile.
“Go sit in the dining room. I’ve ordered a proper breakfast today.”
In other words, I wouldn’t have to eat those fried monstrosities that looked like they had crawled straight out of hell.
I nodded and headed straight for the dining room. A voice tinged with amusement followed me.
“Don’t tell me you’re that happy about it.”
Before I could even respond, I had already entered the dining room.
On the table were sandwiches, fruit, and a simple soup.
Following me inside, Rashak spoke.
“I came up with a satisfactory solution. I’d be less than human if I didn’t reward you for it.”
I hurriedly sat down and tasted the soup, then glanced at him cautiously.
“Satisfactory… Are you sure you’re satisfied?”
“Isn’t that obvious?”
He replied as he took the seat across from me.
I recalled our conversation at the theater.
It happened only yesterday.
“I have an idea.”
“What kind?”
“Have you heard of the ancestral sword of House Brent?”
“It’s a famous story.”
“What if we used it as the condition for releasing Renoa?”
What flashed through Rashak’s eyes at the time was an unmistakable surprise.
“Are you sure about that? I heard you were on good terms with Count Brent.”
“…I’m not suggesting we actually take the sword, no matter what.”
I paused to catch my breath before continuing.
“The ancestral sword is a bargaining chip. If you start by demanding something the other party can’t agree to, then bring up the actual condition afterward, they’ll be less likely to question or resist the second demand.”
“Hmm. That’s a trick commonly used by con artists.”
I felt a little stung, but he still looked interested.
“So, what’s the second condition you’re planning to propose?”
“…Renoa publicly apologizing to you, Boss. It would only humiliate Renoa personally, so House Brent itself wouldn’t suffer any losses.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“And I’m supposed to let everything go over a single apology?”
“I’m not saying you should be satisfied with humiliating Renoa. As you’ve already seen, she’s absolutely not the kind of person who would apologize willingly. She’ll just sit back and do nothing until Allen and the count find a way to rescue her. She’ll rely entirely on the child she’s carrying.”
“And?”
“That’s exactly what I’m targeting.”
I looked straight into his eyes.
“The ancestral sword is a symbol directly tied to the future of the territory. What do you think will happen if word gets out that Renoa is weighing something so important against her own pride?”
Rashak fell silent, deep in thought.
I didn’t explain any further.
The ancestral sword versus personal pride. For someone responsible for an entire territory, choosing the former without hesitation was only natural.
But Renoa would hesitate.
I would bet my entire fortune that she had spent her life thinking only about marrying Allen and becoming the countess, without ever considering the responsibilities that came with it.
But public opinion wouldn’t care about what she wanted.
Once Renoa’s name became known through this incident, people would begin questioning the qualifications of the future Countess of Brent.
And the longer she dragged things out, the worse her reputation would become.
Even if there were nobles as proud as Renoa who sympathized with her on a personal level, they could hardly come forward and openly support her by saying they understood her position.
That would be no different from telling the people of the territory, I’d prioritize my own pride in the same situation.
“…It’s like giving people something entertaining to gossip about.”
“Exactly. People’s mistakes… or failures… are the easiest things for everyone to pick apart.”
“And in the process, what your younger sister said to me will naturally be forgotten.”
Exactly. That was the key.
The future Countess of Brent is utterly unqualified for the role was a much more entertaining story to pick apart than the Barsen Boss’s authority has been undermined.
“I can also make myself look merciful while earning a favor from Count Brent. And later, if I want to squeeze something out of that old man, it’ll be easier to rally public opinion in my favor.”
I hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“It’s a decent plan. We’ll go with that.”
…And that brought us to the present.
“Do you put lobster in your sandwiches, too?”
“Don’t want it? Then stop eating.”
“No! Absolutely not!”
I hurriedly stuffed another bite into my mouth, savoring the firm, plump lobster meat as I chewed.
How did he know I liked seafood, too? He’d somehow managed to prepare exactly what I liked.
“First, you caught an assassin hiding in the shadows. Then you turned out to be good at playing cat and mouse. You solved a mystery, and now you’re waging a public opinion campaign…”
While I was happily chewing away, Rashak suddenly spoke.
When our eyes met, he smiled and placed another piece of lobster on my plate.
“I need to figure out how much I have to raise my secretary’s annual salary before she stops thinking about running away.”
“…My annual salary?”
“Would five times the current amount do it?”
I stopped chewing and stared at him in shock. He gave a small, amused laugh.
“What? Disappointed because it’s too little?”
I shook my head as hard as I could.
“No!”
“Not enough?”
“No, no! I mean, th-that’s way too much!”
Of course, ever since becoming his secretary, almost every day has been one incident after another, and I’ve been working busily nonstop.
But I’d barely been on the job for a week, and he was already offering me five times my salary?
If he weren’t the male lead, this would be the moment I’d be thinking, Damn it, I’ve gotten involved with a guy who spouts the most ridiculous nonsense.
“Hmm. Do I look like I don’t have enough money? You know who I am by now, don’t you?”
“E-Even so, if you suddenly raise my salary like that…”
“I look like a con artist?”
He’d hit the nail on the head so perfectly that I flinched and couldn’t answer.
Rashak, however, showed no sign of displeasure.
“Then what should I do?”
He leaned forward slightly, meeting my eyes as he spoke.
“I’m doing this because I genuinely want to keep you by my side.”
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