Knock, knock—
Alvin knocked on the office door.
“You called for me, Your Majesty.”
“Come in.”
As expected, Caesar was alone.
He was seated at his desk, seemingly in the middle of handling documents.
Alvin stood by the door, silently waiting until Caesar spoke.
After a few moments, Caesar closed the file in front of him and finally asked,
“How did it go?”
“Their title has been revoked, and they have been permanently banished from the empire.”
“The woman, too?”
“Of course. She will never set foot in the imperial palace again.”
Alvin bowed his head.
The “woman” Caesar was referring to was Vivian Sancia.
The order had been to investigate the entire Sancia family.
“Find anything and everything we can use. Clean this up.”
Alvin recalled Caesar’s additional instructions.
In the end, the meaning was clear—dig up any dirt possible and use it to get rid of them.
The Sancia family was a baron without land, barely holding onto a title granted long ago.
They had no wealth, no connections.
Finding something to use against them had been far too easy.
“There isn’t a single noble who doesn’t have some hidden stain.”
Caesar nodded in satisfaction before adding,
“Make sure Evelyn never hears about this.”
“…Of course. She will never know.”
Alvin answered obediently.
But despite his outward composure, a heavy unease settled within him.
Using imperial authority to strip a family of their title and issue an exile was completely within Caesar’s power—especially when there was an official justification.
And keeping Evelyn in the dark about it? That was easy.
But…
‘The problem is… he won’t stop here.’
The longer someone walked down this path, the more likely they were to slip up.
And if Caesar’s secret maneuvering was ever exposed, there would be serious consequences.
The authority he had worked so hard to build could be danger.
And if Evelyn ever found out the truth…
Alvin felt an ominous premonition.
“You may go.”
“…Yes, Your Majesty.”
But Alvin said nothing.
Because even if he objected, nothing would change.
****
The debutante ball had ended smoothly, and in the days that followed, I never once saw Vivian in the imperial palace.
At first, I assumed she was simply too humiliated to show her face.
But even after a week had passed, she was still nowhere to be seen.
That was when I finally heard the news—Vivian had resigned from her position and left the palace.
‘…That’s unexpected. I thought she’d be more persistent.’
If she had been shaken enough to leave entirely, then she must have taken the humiliation far worse than I had anticipated.
There was one more piece of good news.
Just as I had intended, rumors had spread like wildfire throughout high society.
The number of banquet invitations sent to my family had multiplied several times over.
Some of the rumors even claimed that Caesar and I were soon to be married.
It wasn’t entirely surprising.
I had been his debutante partner, shared the first dance with him, and had even received an extravagant ruby necklace.
It was only natural that people would draw conclusions.
‘Maybe I overdid it a little…’
But this was something I would have had to deal with eventually anyway.
Now, the real question was—
How should I take advantage of these rumors?
Since I had already decided to strengthen both my family and my own influence, the things I needed remained the same:
Military strength, financial power, and human resources.
The last of these was already secured. Thanks to my association with Caesar, our family was now firmly part of the pro-imperial faction.
I had no interest in increasing military strength.
After all, my ultimate goal was to strengthen imperial authority.
I had no intention of encouraging nobles to expand their private armies.
That meant the remaining piece was—
Wealth.
In truth, this was what my family needed most.
For generations, we had lived modestly in Summerhill, managing our small estate with reasonable taxation policies.
We weren’t poor, but we didn’t have enough wealth to hold any real influence in high society either.
‘Rather than just having a lot of money, it would be best if we could control economic flow…’
The simplest way to achieve this would be to create a highly successful business.
If we could establish a business that dictated market trends, we could gain control over the flow of money.
But…
‘That’s not realistic.’
Starting a business wasn’t easy. It required massive initial capital, and if it failed, we could lose everything.
If I were like the protagonists of other reincarnation stories, maybe I would have pre-existing knowledge of a soon-to-be-discovered gold mine or a product that would become a major trend.
But unfortunately, in the original story, this current period was simply referred to as “a few years later”—a time skipped over entirely.
That meant I couldn’t rely on any story knowledge to guide me.
“Hmmm…”
I slumped over my desk, feeling just as stuck as when I had been struggling with tax reforms.
“At least I have my own room now.”
Muttering to myself in the now spacious room (without Devit around), I suddenly heard a knock.
“Yes?”
Who could it be?
The only people who would visit me directly in the imperial palace were usually Caesar or Katana.
Curious, I got up and opened the door—
Only to be greeted by a completely unexpected visitor.
“…Father?”
“Evelyn!”
My father beamed and immediately pulled me into a tight hug.
He had come to the palace to discuss business matters with Caesar and had decided to stop by my room.
Apparently, he had kept it a surprise on purpose—just to tease me.
“What if I wasn’t in my room?”
“Then I would’ve shed tears and gone home.”
He dramatically mimed wiping away fake tears before laughing.
“Your mother told me not to bother you since you’re busy. She said we get to see you at least once a week now that we’re in the capital. But I think even once a day wouldn’t be enough!”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his sincerity.
“So, what’s this business discussion about? Is there an issue with the lottery project?”
By now, the lottery business was running smoothly.
There was no longer a need for frequent meetings, so my father coming all the way to the palace was rare.
“Ah, no. It’s unrelated to the lottery.”
“Huh? Then what is it?”
Growing even more curious, I tilted my head.
That was when he pulled out a document from his coat and handed it to me.
“Do you remember asking about this a few years ago?”
I scanned the paper carefully.
It was filled with detailed information about the crops grown in Summerhill—their types, growing conditions, and characteristics.
“Oh! I remember this!”
The memory came back to me.
I had asked about this years ago, but after getting interrupted at dinner, I had completely forgotten about it.
“So… what about it?”
“You know how the crops in Summerhill taste exceptionally good? I always thought that was just my personal opinion, but apparently not.”
“What do you mean?”
“Remember when His Majesty visited Summerhill and had a meal there? He thought the food was excellent, too.”
“And?”
“So…”
My father hesitated.
“He actually suggested a long time ago that we start distributing Summerhill’s crops for sale.”
“But… Summerhill doesn’t produce enough crops for mass distribution.”
Summerhill was surrounded by high mountains.
Because of the terrain, there were no vast plains, and agriculture had never been the main industry.
Most of the people there were involved in trade instead.
However, some farmers did cultivate crops on the steep mountain slopes.
And the produce from those fields was, as my father had said, incredibly fresh and flavorful.
But the quantity was too small for large-scale trade.
“That’s what I told His Majesty, too. He never mentioned it again after that… until now.”
“Hmm…”
Caesar was still thinking about that?
I suddenly recalled something he had once said—
That he wanted to give my family more power.
It hadn’t just been empty words.
He had been coming up with concrete plans.
‘Distributing agricultural products…’
It wasn’t a bad idea.
The crops from Summerhill really were exceptionally fresh and delicious—especially in the summer.
‘Why is that?’
A fundamental question popped into my head.
If even Caesar had noticed the difference, then there had to be a real reason for it.
What made crops grown on mountain slopes so much better?
And then—
‘…High-altitude farming?’
A long-buried memory from my past life surfaced.
Since Summerhill was in the mountains, the altitude made the temperature cooler year-round.
That meant crops there were harvested at different times than those in lower regions.
In this world, harvested crops were typically stored using magical devices.
Just like how Caesar preserved my flower bouquet, these devices kept food from rotting or wilting.
But magic storage was expensive and less effective than having freshly harvested produce.
So during the off-season, people had no choice but to buy less fresh, overpriced vegetables.
But what if…
“If we could supply fresh produce during the off-season…?”
I shot up from my seat.
This business had real potential.
If we handled it right, it could bring us serious wealth and influence.
“Evelyn?”
My father looked up at me in confusion.
“Let’s go see His Majesty!”
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