“Who told you to think?”

“I apologize.”

“You apologize, why didn’t you do it in the first place?”

Contrary to her subdued voice, which seemed as if saying something insignificant, her gray eyes stood with a blue blade.

The messenger’s neck stiffened with tension at the sharp gaze that pierced his spine.

He gulped dry saliva down his throat.

Raisa walked past the messenger.

She spoke as she sat down in her seat with her back to the window.

“You’re going to have to prove you’re useful.”

Raisa smiled bitterly as she touched the tip of her fingernails, which had turned black from the poison.

“There isn’t anywhere to go anyway. I’ve gathered what my mother abandoned, but should I kick you out? Or will my mother?”

The messenger pressed his forehead onto the floor.

“…in mind, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You know there’s someone lining up to replace you.”

This messenger wasn’t the only one she used in the Marquisate of Neir.

After regressing, Raisa quietly made her own people in the Marquisate of Neir, leaving no traces like a snake sliding in the water.

Among those who belonged to the marquisate, some were loyal only to her mother, but others were blinded by money and other things.

Naturally, Raisa reached out to them first.

She obtained them with the promise of giving them whatever they wanted, just like how one would pick up their favorite jewelry.

However, for such ones, if at any time better conditions than hers were offered, they would betray her.

Thus, she, too, entrusted them with less important tasks, so that they could be thrown away at any time.

Others were mobilized to do what Raisa had to do, to deceive the eyes of Marchioness Neir as well as others.

For example, those who have been driven to the brink with nowhere to go, like this messenger in front of her, or those who have been caught by a decisive weakness and turned into puppets through threats.

To them, Raisa was literally their last lifeline.

“Did I expect you to be loyal?”

“No.”

“That’s right. I don’t need a fancy cause like loyalty.”

“Yes… yes. I know.”

The voice of the messenger, answering like a well-trained dog, was trembling badly.

Raisa shot back at the messenger calmly.

“Keep in mind that you’re just a tool that does what I tell you to do. Tools have to be useful.”

“Yes.”

Now, the messenger was trembling so much that anyone could see his shoulders shaking, but Raisa didn’t comfort him.

She merely contemplated his disposition with eyes glittering like snake scales.

“Wake up.”

Raisa berated the messenger who jumped up from the position of lying down on his stomach like a dog.

“The count’s reaction?”

“As you’d expect.”

“Reaction?”

“It’s as if he wasn’t in the room. He was also reminded that if he signs and sends the documents today, all debts will be forgiven.”

“It’s today…”

It was now the afternoon when the sun was setting.

“I hate waiting.”

As the messenger flinched again, Raisa looked at him.

“So go back and get his signature. If you roast and boil the cornered count well, your usefulness will be proven. The time, it’s until sunset.”

—Otherwise… The message knew without hearing the omitted words.

The messenger hurried to the study after bowing deeply, and Raisa looked up at the Imperial Palace, which she could see through the window.

“If we take back the rights of the count and pressure the Lemaire family, which has full control of the festival, I will be able to proceed with the plans a little easier.”

So far, she has been avoiding her mother’s eyes to raise slush funds through various investments and embezzlement, but once she takes charge of the festival, the story would be different.

If she was financially stable, things would go much, much faster.

“That damn guy.”

Sharpening her teeth, Raisa recalled James Gryu, the crown prince’s left arm, who chased and retrieved black money like a ghost, not just from her, but almost everyone else.

She soon wrote a short letter.

The recipient was none other than Hermia.

A woman who came into Raisa’s hands after being caught in a relationship with a man other than her fiancé.

She was the only friend of Iris, one of the crown prince’s aides.

‘You did a great job this time.’

“That… I can’t do that.”

“Can’t you? The only thing the lady can’t do right now is break up with your lover, isn’t it? No, you can’t even break your engagement.”

Of course, her lover was not her fiancé, and if the reason for breaking up was an affair, she would be locked up in the monastery.

Finishing her letter, Raisa tapped with her pen briefly.

Come to think of it, the only thing she ordered from Hermia was to raise the debt her fiancé had to the fullest before the festival.

“Did I want to kill him… Well, it probably doesn’t matter. These are things I’ll use once and throw away.”

Raisa laughed, mimicking the ticking of the clock’s minute hand with her mouth.

Because she could see the road to her goal being paved.

There was still a lot of work to be done before she could take the throne, but it didn’t matter.

“Until it works.”

As she could regress.

The small pieces that started with the death of one person were intertwined with Hermia, Iris, the Neir family and the festival, revealing the outline of a larger picture little by little.

.

When the messenger of Marchioness Neir, no, the messenger of Raisa, ran back to the count.

Ophelia and Richard were heading to the outskirts of the Imperial Palace.

“A murder case? All of a sudden?”

“It was a few days ago.”

“I wonder if Iris’s name is listed as the victim or perpetrator.”

“No.”

“I’m so glad… Then, maybe it’s someone around her?”

“Yes.”

“Is it the victim?”

“You might see it that way.”

Ophelia straightened her back and pulled Richard’s hand, stopping him.

“Please explain a little bit.”

“The fiancé of a beloved friend has been murdered, and the fiancé’s family is associated with the festival.”

It was a ridiculously short explanation, but Ophelia roughly understood it.

“So, it means that someone related to Iris and closely linked to the festival has died.”

“You got it.”

“It’s a situation that anyone can conclude. But how is it related to the festival?”

“The person is from one of the families that oversees the licensing of all items used in the festival.”

“What? Is there such a thing? Isn’t that something His Majesty does?”

“The final decision is the authority of His Majesty the Emperor, but it is impossible to look at all of them from the start.”

“Oh, so it’s kind of a preliminary check.”

As Richard said, the imperial family could not manage all the items used for the festival or the items bought and sold at the festival right from the beginning.

Therefore, several families take charge of sorting and permitting items that were coming from all over the empire as well as from the outside, and only the final approval was made by the imperial family.

“It’s a name I haven’t seen in many documents, so I don’t think it has much decision-making power.”

“It’s not a lot, but it’s in charge of the most important thing.”

At Richard’s words, Ophelia immediately remembered the most important thing.

A huge amount of it would surely be consumed in an upbeat festival that excites the whole empire and makes people dance.

Compared to other things, which economic good was unmatched?

“It’s alcohol.”

Richard smiled faintly and started walking again.

Soon after, when they could see the palace they were heading to, Ophelia, who was trying to speed up her steps, stopped again.

“Your Highness.”

She looked up at Richard and shook the hand that was holding his.

“Uh, shouldn’t we stop…?”

Of course, she had to let go of the hand she grabbed earlier.

Thus far, strangely enough, they managed to come all the way here without running into anyone, so it was okay, but not from now on.

Lady Ophelia Bolsheik holding hands with the Crown Prince Richard?

Rumors would spread throughout the empire this evening, eventually inflating into the nonsense that Richard was hugging his aide .

Words without feet were simply like that.

‘Actually, from the moment I held his hand until now, I swear I had no thoughts.’

A pounding heart! Or putting some meaning into it! Or wondering why he’s doing this! Ophelia didn’t even have any doubts.

‘It’s just that he held my hand, so I complied.’

At Ophelia’s words, Richard nodded.

“I see. I should let go.”

Richard let go of the small hand that was squirming in his hand for a while, then grabbed it again, interlocking the fingers.

“What you say and what you do are different.”

“You’re not letting go either.” 

“It’s warm. Ahem, ahem.”

Ophelia sneaked her gaze away from his field of vision as she coughed, which was obviously fake to anyone who heard it.

How long had passed in this silence that was not uncomfortable as if she was sitting on a cushion of thorns, but not comfortable enough for her to fall asleep?

“In the first place, why did you hold my hand?”

“Then why don’t you let go of my hand?”

“Well.”

When Ophelia tilted her head, Richard mirrored it, even following the same direction.

The dry feel of his hands and the tepid warmth that was neither hot as fire nor cold as frigid temperatures.

It wasn’t a hand she wanted to hold tightly.

But, yes.

When he asked why she didn’t let go of her hand, the only answer was ‘Well.’

Really, how much time had passed?

“Ummm. Still, we have to let go. At the count of three, we’ll release each other’s hand at the same time. One, two, three.”

With the voice of Ophelia counting to three, the two hands that had been joined together fell softly.

It was nothing to let go like that.

However, for some reason, Ophelia repeatedly clenched and opened her fist several times, and Richard glanced at his empty hand.

Soon, their eyes met.

The black sky touched the blue sea and broke, creating foam, but no one was willing to open their mouths.

After the prolonged mutual stare without blinking, Ophelia’s lips parted slightly.