Chapter 122: Just Here to Trade. (3)
“Are you sending it to the servants instead of the nobles?”
“Uh, just write ‘Baron Penris’ in big letters and send it.”
“Ah… I see. Got it.”
Claude nodded with a peculiar expression.
Then Belinda, who had been watching the two with a skeptical eye, chimed in.
“What’s this? What’s going on? Can you explain it to me? The Chief Officer understood, right? You’re not pretending to know something you don’t, are you?”
Claude flared up immediately at her outright dismissal.
“What nonsense! I graduated top of my class at Seiron Academy and I handle all the Territory Chief Officer duties! There’s no way I’m that dumb!”
“Hmph, says the one who gets owned by the Young Master daily.”
“That’s because the Lord is someone who defies common sense!”
Claude pounded his chest in frustration.
However, it didn’t matter whether Claude got worked up or not; everyone else, including Belinda, was just staring intently at Ghislaine.
Ghislaine explained casually, as if it were no big deal.
“Belinda, you were happy when I first gave you cosmetics. You were asking what brand it was and if it was expensive.”
“Well… that did happen.”
“But why did you reject it later?”
“Obviously, it’s because you said the Young Master made it himself. He’s never learned anything like that… Ah, I see now!”
Belinda finally understood what Ghislaine meant, and she was impressed.
The folks at Penris Castle were well aware that he was clueless about fields like pharmacology or alchemy. So naturally, they couldn’t believe he made the cosmetics.
But people living in the capital were different.
“There might be a few servants who would believe it just because it has a noble’s name on it.”
“Since the people here don’t know who the Young Master is.”
“Exactly.”
Not everyone who received the cosmetics would use them, but if even one person tried it and saw results, word would spread quickly, just like it did in the Penris Territory.
The first-class contributor to the cosmetics test, Gillian, nodded seriously.
“Indeed, this means that in order to catch the knights, we must first catch the horses. You’re planning to recruit the easily approachable people around, as expected of the Lord.”
“…It wasn’t meant to be that profound, but in hindsight, it’s not wrong.”
Ghislaine scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Now that you mention it, it makes perfect sense. Why didn’t I think of that? The person who spends the most time with the servants is me.”
“I’m Ram.”
Belinda pouted, clearly a bit disappointed. Ghislaine chuckled softly.
“That’s probably because you don’t trust me. That’s why I hate having to explain everything. No matter what I say, you won’t believe me anyway.”
“……”
At those piercing words, everyone closed their mouths tightly.
Claude clicked his tongue in disapproval as he looked around at the awkwardly clearing throats of the crowd.
“Tsk tsk tsk, how can the retainers who are supposed to stand by the Lord until the end be constantly doubting his words and questioning everything he does? At this rate, how will the territory function properly? Don’t act like Alfoy.”
“……”
Being called out by the most skeptical person in the group was quite infuriating.
However, since only Claude seemed to grasp the intention before Ghislaine could explain, there was no room for rebuttal.
As the others glared at him, Claude tapped his temple with two fingers and said, “Do you feel the difference in intelligence?”
A chilling tension rose among the group.
Feigning ignorance, Claude turned his head and continued, “The merchandise will be beautifully packaged and sent to the noble houses.”
“Right. We don’t need to cater to all the nobles—let’s select some of the prominent ones for the gifts.”
“Then what gifts should we send to the nobles? We can’t just send nothing.”
Ignoring the nobles and only sending gifts to the servants would be ridiculous.
At the very least, something had to be given to maintain a semblance of justification.
After a moment of thought, Ghislaine casually suggested, “Let’s buy a suitable Mandragora root to send as an excuse to greet them in the capital.”
“……Mandragora root?”
“Yeah. There’s no need to send something better, right? Just let them know my name and that our merchant group sent cosmetics. Just go for the cheapest option.”
Claude scratchily responded with a troubled expression.
While Mandragora root was famous as a tonic, it wasn’t exactly a gift worthy of the nobles in the capital.
Even if it wasn’t necessary to win the nobles’ favor… he still worried about what sort of gossip might circulate.
“Well, I guess there’s no helping it. Alright, then what should we write in the letter? Do you have anything specific you want to say?”
“This body makes an appearance in the capital.”
“……I’ll handle the writing myself, thank you.”
Ghislaine answered with a click of her tongue.
“Yeah, by now you should know how to handle that much. Do you think I need to think through every single line of the letter?”
“I get it.”
While grumbling, Claude diligently prepared the letter and gift.
After sending the present, there was nothing left to do but wait for a response.
Unable to withstand the boredom, the group wandered around the capital while searching for good food, leaving Ghislaine alone in the mansion to deep in thought.
‘People should start seeing results soon.’
Others thought Ghislaine had just come to earn money selling cosmetics.
While that wasn’t wrong, Ghislaine’s aim was more than just making money.
‘How long will it take…?’
Caw! Caw!
Ghislaine scattered feed towards the crows. The crows in the garden flapped about chaotically to grab anything they could from the feed she threw.
*
Count Ailzbur is one of the powerful figures in the capital.
While he didn’t hold a high-ranking position or govern a particularly large territory, his longstanding connections with various noble houses through the generations allowed him to wield significant political influence.
Thanks to the connections forged with the noble family, he wielded significant political influence.
The wealth and businesses inherited from his ancestors, along with his connections, bolstered his position greatly.
Countless people sent gifts in hopes of eliciting his favor, so many that he had to set aside time to organize a list of them.
“Next is… Baron Penris?”
“Yes, he sent this as a greeting since it’s his first time in the capital.”
“Hmm, I see.”
Count Ailzbur nodded nonchalantly and opened the letter.
But the contents were anything but ordinary.
“Oh…”
Each sentence grabbed his attention.
The way he was praised was so extravagant that he felt as if he were being treated like an emperor.
“Wow, the writing skill of the scribe I have is exceptional. Or could it be that he wrote this himself? Either way, this is impressive. How clever, ha ha ha.”
Now he was excited about what the gift could be.
Having been treated with such respect and formality as if addressing an imperial emperor, it was sure to be something extraordinary.
With a face full of anticipation, he urged his servant.
“Come on, hurry up and open it!”
Since he didn’t know what was inside, he couldn’t open it himself.
The servant cautiously opened the wooden box from a distance.
“Uh?”
The people around him looked inside the box and wore bewildered expressions.
Inside the box lay a single shriveled Mandragora root, laid neatly within its case.
“……Mandragora? Is that it?”
“Yes, yes. Just that one.”
Count Ailzbur was flustered and waved his hands urgently.
“Bring it here. Bring it to me.”
He picked up the Mandragora root and inspected it closely. He even shook the empty case.
No matter how much he checked, it was truly just that.
“Ugh! What a blowhard! Remember his name! This is why country bumpkins are no good!”
Count Ailzbur flung the Mandragora root along with its case and stood up from his seat.
He thought about going to a feast to share stories of today’s ridiculous event and gossip a bit.
As he was leaving, his butler hurriedly caught up with him.
“The baron also sent gifts to the servants; what should we do?”
“What? What did he send? A weed root?”
“It’s a beauty cream made by the merchant group the baron runs.”
Count Ailzbur scoffed.
What kind of high-class product could a rural merchant group possibly make?
Since it was given to the servants, it must have been some cheap cream made from ground fruit peels.
“Is it some commoner’s face cream? Just let them divide it up. If they want to throw it away, they can. Oh, and tell them if anyone needs it, they can use it. Let the butler have some too.”
“Thank you!”
The butler beamed and smiled. While it was trash to the count, for commoners, even a single Mandragora root was a precious item.
Count Ailzbur clicked his tongue several times and left in a huff.
Thus, the cosmetics sent by Ghislaine were distributed to the servants working at the Ailzbur mansion.
The container of the cosmetics bore the name of Baron Penris and the emblem of the merchant group.
Most, just like Count Ailzbur, were suspicious and didn’t use it.
However, a few were curious about the noble name prominently displayed and decided to try it out little by little.
Just as Ghislaine had anticipated.
About ten days passed.
About ten days had passed by.
Meriel, the Countess Ailzbur, was applying her makeup diligently but grumbled with a pouty expression.
“My makeup isn’t sticking today.”
It felt like the foundation on her face was unusually flaky today.
“Time can’t be avoided. I don’t want to age.”
With each passing day, her skin was getting worse.
She tried eating good food and bought expensive beauty products, but the effects were fading more and more.
Entering middle age was just painfully regrettable and frustrating.
“You’re still so beautiful, though.”
Meriel lamented as she looked in the mirror.
Even now, she was so beautiful that she could easily be counted among the kingdom’s top beauties.
In her younger days, she received countless marriage proposals from noble kids. There had been so many knights vying to serve her as a lady that she couldn’t count them all.
Now that she was older, many still praised Meriel’s beauty. She was the leading lady among the noblewomen setting trends in the kingdom.
However, with age, the loss of skin elasticity and the gradual increase of wrinkles bothered her dearly.
“When I was younger, I didn’t even need makeup; my skin just glowed. Sigh…”
Trying to cover the wrinkles with thick makeup only seemed to make her skin feel stiffer.
“Maybe I should have found an easier Mana Circulation Method to learn? They say it keeps youth longer.”
It was a pity, but there was nothing she could do. No one could escape the passage of time.
Meriel clicked her tongue inwardly and left the room.
“Is everything ready? Let’s leave now so we’re not late.”
Today, she decided to attend a salon after a long time.
This was the reason she had put in so much effort to get ready since morning.
A noble social gathering was like a war, just without weapons.
Everyone meticulously examined each other’s clothing, makeup, and even the tiniest accessories, comparing them to themselves.
Meriel had never lost in that war.
As she was about to leave the mansion, escorted by her maids, she suddenly felt a strange sense of discomfort and stopped.
“What’s this?”
She scanned the maids lined up along the corridor.
Soon, Meriel realized the source of her discomfort.
“Their skin…”
Most of them looked the same as usual. How good could a maid’s skin be if they couldn’t manage it like nobles?
But a few of them stood out with skin that was noticeably better.
Normally, you wouldn’t notice the details of skin elasticity unless you looked closely, but they couldn’t escape Meriel’s discerning eyes.
Meriel scrutinized each of their faces. Their skin was shiny with moisture.
They looked different from the other maids who were weary and had sallow complexions.
She approached the maid with the most dewy-looking skin and said, “You.”
The pointed maid lowered her head, looking intimidated.
“Tell me everything: what you’ve eaten recently, how you wash, how much and when you’ve slept. If there’s any other reason you think might have affected your skin, tell me that too.”
Meriel, who always displayed a dignified and kind demeanor towards her subordinates, was wearing a terrifying expression as if she had become a different person.
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