Second Life, I’m Dying Soon Chapter 14

Chapter 14

By dusk, all the letters had finally been dispatched. The total number of thick envelopes amounted to forty-nine, each sealed with wax imprinted with the imperial crest.

The attendants, arms full of invitations, boarded carriages and scattered in different directions. They would likely have to travel through the night to ensure all the invitations were delivered.

As night deepened, darkness also settled over the office. The number of attendants had noticeably dwindled, and so had their tasks. In the now quiet office, only the occasional sound of footsteps could be heard as lamps were refilled with oil.

In the meantime, Alexis, having returned from his audience with the emperor, reentered the office. His brows arched slightly in surprise upon seeing Cecil still stationed at his desk—he had expected him to have long since returned to his own quarters.

“Have you had dinner?”

Engrossed in reading documents, Cecil snapped his head up at the question. His posture, which had been relaxed against the chair’s backrest, straightened immediately.

“I’m not particularly hungry.”

“How long do you plan to stay here? As far as I know, the invitations have already been sent.”

With long strides, Alexis closed the distance to Cecil’s desk in just a few steps. He picked up one of the scattered sheets of paper.

What could he possibly be working on this late? His eyes skimmed over hastily scrawled numbers, symbols, and various circles and lines slashed across the page.

“You’re doing the accounting yourself?”

“Yes, it’s simple enough… I have to meet with the treasurer first thing in the morning, so I didn’t have time to delegate it.”

Cecil added, somewhat evasively, that he had been learning recently, so it wasn’t particularly difficult.

But Alexis immediately recognized what he saw. To an untrained eye, it might have looked like random scribbles, but he knew better. This wasn’t mere addition and subtraction—Cecil was handling advanced calculations, the kind only taught at universities.

“…….”

“…….”

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them.

‘He can’t even meet my eyes when he lies.’

Cecil exhaled subtly, feigning nonchalance as he averted his gaze. Alexis’ piercing stare felt almost like fine needles pricking at his skin.

“I was concerned the task might be too much for you, but I see my worries were unfounded.”

Alexis tossed the paper back onto the desk. A cold curve formed on his well-shaped lips, and his gaze, filled with skepticism, bore down on Cecil.

“I’ll be expecting great things.”

The crown prince placed a firm hand on Cecil’s shoulder, more of a warning than encouragement.

“Ian.”

At his call, the head attendant emerged from the shadows and bowed low.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“I’m retiring to my chambers. Cecil will likely be here for quite a while—see to it that he has attendants to ensure his needs are met.”

To an outsider, it would sound like a thoughtful gesture, as if he were taking care of his younger brother.

But with the Peridot Palace attendants already present, it was clear what Alexis’ order truly meant.

Watch him.

Cecil pretended not to notice and kept his eyes on the documents. Meanwhile, the ever-loyal attendants wasted no time in carrying out their orders.

The state documents Alexis had been reviewing were swiftly locked away. A reddish wooden chest, intricately engraved with the imperial emblem, was shut and sealed with a heavy lock. Several attendants took up positions around it, standing guard as if it were a vault.

Watching the unnecessary commotion, Cecil let out a dry chuckle. He had already suggested working elsewhere, but instead, he was being confined to the office under surveillance. His faint amusement soon dissolved into a weary sigh.

He pushed aside his irritation and refocused on the documents, scrutinizing the numbers as if his life depended on it, calculating and recalculating in his head. But his concentration soon wavered.

Cecil rested an elbow on the armrest of his chair, massaging his throbbing temples.

Making a fool of himself in front of Alexis had already been unavoidable—perhaps it would be easier to just handle things his own way.

“…It’s not like I want to be doing this.”

He could have just let it slide, but for the sake of those eagerly anticipating the debutante and to preserve Alexis’ reputation, he was making an effort.

Since it had come to this, perhaps he should make an even stronger impression. Who knows? If he played his cards right, he might even leave a favorable impression on Alexis.

Lost in his thoughts, time slipped away. Cecil rubbed at the corners of his tired eyes.

At the very least, he had to gain something out of this to make it less frustrating.

The next day, he met with the treasurer at the appointed time.

The strict-looking man pushed up his slipping glasses, beads of sweat forming on the bridge of his nose as he examined the budget proposal laid before him. He fidgeted with his hands, visibly troubled.

“So… you’re requesting 5 million Salas for the debutante preparations?”

“To be precise, 5.28 million Salas.”

“Lord Cecil, the budget for this year’s debutante has already been allocated to Her Majesty the Empress.”

“Lord Roman, do you take me for someone who would double-dip and line my own pockets?”

Cecil leaned back, crossing his arms. His posture was anything but befitting of an imperial family member, exuding a casual arrogance.

“I have been informed of the circumstances, but… we cannot simply bypass protocol. If we are to proceed as usual, we must first retrieve the funds allocated to Her Majesty, then redistribute them through proper channels.”

“Which is why I have already prepared the necessary documentation.”

Cecil leaned forward, tapping his index finger against the parchment spread across the table.

It wasn’t even two hours of sleep that he managed to get while putting this together! Couldn’t they see the dark circles under his eyes? His fierce emerald gaze bore into the treasurer, wordlessly demanding recognition of his struggle.

The treasurer furrowed his brow and scrutinized the budget proposal once more.

If only there were something to nitpick. But in truth, the budget plan that Cecil had prepared was flawless beyond words. Every necessary expense was meticulously itemized, and not a single coin was wasted.

Honestly, it was rather impressive.

“Did you really do this yourself?”

“Is that something you need to know?”

If only he knew who had prepared it, he might try to lure that person to work under him… The treasurer swallowed down his unspoken thoughts.

As if Cecil Adrian would have done this himself. He still refused to believe it.

With a sigh, the treasurer removed his glasses and set them down on the table, signaling that there was no need for further review. His sharp gaze met Cecil’s.

“I could take about 3 million Salas from the reserve fund.”

“Then it’ll be the first debutante ball in history without wine or musicians.”

“…If it’s truly urgent, you could request an audience with Her Majesty the Empress.”

“As if she would meet with me.”

Empress Elizabeth had already declared that she wouldn’t see Cecil for the time being.

Besides, obtaining funds from the Empress’s palace would only result in a mountain of additional documentation. That would mean even more work, so there was no reason to take such a troublesome route.

“As you well know, the debutante ball is the most anticipated imperial event for the young nobles coming of age. There are only nine days left, and at this rate, the event won’t even be able to take place. That would be unprecedented in imperial history, wouldn’t it? And in the very year His Highness the Crown Prince has returned, no less. Are you really willing to cause such a disgrace?”

“I’m not the one who created this situation, am I?”

“But your decision is what will determine its outcome.”

“…That’s quite the leap in logic.”

The treasurer let out a long sigh, rubbing his face in exasperation.

“Fine, then. How about 4.2 million Salas?”

“Can’t read numbers, can you? I said 5.28 million.”

“Lord Cecil, there are some things you simply cannot demand—”

“Every year, the number of noble participants in the debutante ball exceeds 300. This year alone, we’ve sent out 49 invitations. The scale has grown compared to last year, so how do you expect me to host an imperial event with only 4.2 million? Which part of the budget do you suggest I cut?”

When Cecil thrust the meticulously crafted budget plan toward him again, the treasurer recoiled as if he had been stabbed.

“The Empress’s palace received 8 million Salas, didn’t they? If there’s a shortage, recovering misallocated funds should fix it. What are you so worried about? Instead of worrying about funds, you should be worrying about the consequences of embarrassing the imperial family. You’re only offering me 4.2 million Salas, and sure, I can make do with that. But it’ll be the worst debutante ball in history, a disgrace to the empire. Can you bear the backlash that will follow, Lord Roman?”

“Haa… Please… just spare me.”

“You still have the luxury to whine, I see.”

For someone so young, Cecil wielded his words like a seasoned manipulator, pushing the treasurer into a corner with relentless precision. The onslaught of negotiations was enough to make the man’s head spin.

Cecil took a deep breath, calming his excitement as he leaned back against the sofa. Stretching out his arms in an almost benevolent gesture, he relented.

“Alright. Then tell me, Lord Roman, what should be cut to fit within the reduced budget? Because I, for one, am too exhausted to figure it out.”

“As you said… every item listed is essential.”

“And?”

The treasurer clutched his head as if trying to suppress an oncoming headache. His already wrinkled forehead furrowed even deeper. With a strained voice, he finally relented.

“Five million Salas. I can’t go any higher.”

“……”

Cecil rested his head against the back of his chair, fingers grazing his lips. His once smoldering eyes now gleamed like finely cut emeralds.

“If you’re already going that far, why not make it 5.18 million?”

“Even if you add 180,000, it still won’t reach the amount you originally asked for.”

“It’s fine. I have my own allocated funds, don’t I?”

The treasurer’s eyes widened. As far as he knew, Cecil was also among the debutantes this year. Was he really suggesting that he’d give up the 100,000 Salas meant for his own preparations? The person who should be shining the most at the ball?

“Then… Lord Cecil, are you saying you’ll prepare for the debutante ball with not a single coin for yourself?”

“It’s not like I have anyone to impress. What’s the point of dressing up?”

“……”

“Hmm? You’ll approve it, won’t you?”

The young noble tilted his chin, his eyes curving into a soft smile. Just moments ago, he had been wielding threats like a demon, yet now he donned the guise of an angel, making a seemingly innocent request.

The treasurer let out a defeated chuckle. He had been played from start to finish. There was no winning against Cecil.

With a resigned sigh, he made his decision.

“Very well. 5.18 million Salas. I’ll approve it.”