Fine Wine

“Ahh, that was fun! We really did it, everyone.”

“Yes. It was extremely satisfying.”

Ciel narrowed her eyes.

Having achieved total victory over the corrupt viscount Edward Charlus, we were intoxicated by the sweet wine of victory in the carriage on the way back.

“Once again, the world has come a little closer to becoming mine.”

Gracefully swirling my glass, I wet my throat with its purple contents.

Sweet grape juice, which looked so much like wine, was a favorite of mine as a villainess-like drink.

“Yes indeed. It was splendidly done.”

Vincent smiled with a glass in hand.

What he was drinking was the same grape juice as me.

I had told him he could drink alcohol if he wanted, but Vincent said that, unless it was necessary for a mission as an agent, he would never put any kind of alcohol in his mouth under any circumstances.

“Putting one’s duties above all else. That is what I believe it means to be a professional.”

What wonderful professional discipline.

And what was more, Vincent was not a real agent, but a fan who admired them, and yet he pursued this adult game of make-believe this thoroughly.

As a fellow companion with a deep admiration for fictional characters, what a truly respectable attitude it was.

On top of that, this time as well, he had perfectly conquered Edward Charlus, a man known for being wary and cautious.

“Here are the documents proving his corruption. I also had the gold bars he was hoarding brought out.”

I had honestly been shocked when he reported that.

I had given him investigation orders in an appropriately dramatic way so that he could enjoy his agent roleplay, but I had never imagined he would really find them.

“But I heard the Charlus mansion has multiple layers of magical barriers all over it.”

“If they are barriers of that level, there are several ways to infiltrate.”

“And normally no one could even find a hidden safe, let alone open it.”

“There are tendencies to the sort of hidden safes installed by people like that. This time it was in a comparatively common hiding place, behind a painting. The safe itself was custom-made, but with my skills I can open something like that in a few minutes.”

(S-So amazing…)

As expected of the 《Elegant and Perfect Butler》, the most capable person in House Lumiore.

The precision of his agent roleplay was also far beyond the norm.

The texture of his complete immersion was so incredible that if I let my guard down even slightly, I almost started to think he might actually be a real master agent.

What was more, Ciel too had become a splendid asset as his assistant.

“It really was so much fun. Working as a maid, I’ve been hurt by being bullied for being a commoner, so it felt like the pain in my heart just eased away. More than anything, for the sake of Lady Mythia, whom I carried in my womb and gave birth to, I can do absolutely anything.”

Ciel smiled.

I could not quite hear the last part clearly, but her happy expression warmed my heart too.

“At this rate, we’ll go on crushing more and more corrupt nobles.”

“Leave it to me.”

“Let’s do it.”

The three of us laughed together.

Inside that carriage, it somehow felt like the distance between our hearts had grown smaller.

The Council of Three Hundred, the supreme secret organization that ruled Elmia, the magical kingdom, from the shadows.

Within this organization, which possessed power and wealth surpassing even the royal family, Ravel Lumiore, head of House Lumiore, served as one of its top executives.

Among the thirteen top executives, his rank was twelfth.

Among a group that included many members of the illustrious ducal houses known as the Three Great Houses and people connected to financial conglomerates, this ranking was by no means bad, yet Ravel Lumiore was dissatisfied with the present state of affairs.

A position even higher was what truly suited his abilities and qualities.

And yet, what was the cause of his being forced to remain content with this ranking?

(My defective daughter and those inferior breeds are dragging me down.)

The ideology of the Council of Three Hundred held that magical aptitude determined everything about a person.

Ravel believed that House Lumiore, which possessed Lineage as a territory where inferior breeds without magical aptitude lived, was at a disadvantage within the organization.

In addition to that, there was his fifth daughter, who had been born without aptitude for regular magic.

Despite the fact that he had exhausted all the power at his disposal to cover it up, the members of the Council of Three Hundred knew that she was an incompetent good-for-nothing who could use nothing but household magic.

“There is nothing we do not know. I believe it would be wiser not to keep secrets from us.”

Those words had been spoken by Alexis Loewegrin, the head of a ducal house who stood third in rank within the organization.

It was a gigantic organization whose full power even Ravel, himself one of the top executives, could not completely grasp.

That was exactly why Ravel wanted a position even higher, and why he was willing to do absolutely anything to get closer to it.

He locked his daughter away in the basement so that no stain would touch his own reputation.

When he learned that the organization had developed a new kind of biological weapon and was looking for a place to test it in the field, he offered up Lineage without hesitation.

A biological weapon that caused a severe infectious disease.

While disposing of the inferior breeds who were dragging him down, he could also increase the degree of his contribution within the organization.

In order to preserve appearances in the public world, he also sent his defective daughter there.

At the same time as disposing of the shame of the family, he could also increase his own value as a head of house who had earnestly tried to protect his territory even while losing his daughter.

Everything had proceeded exactly as he had envisioned.

(With this, I can dispose of the incompetent fools dragging me down and climb still higher.)

Hope burned hot in his chest.

Swirling a glass as delicate as a thin sheet of paper, he moistened his throat with wine.

It was then that a subordinate came in to deliver a report.

(I must act as though I am grieving over my territory being ravaged by disease.)

Concealing his inner joy, he put on the appearance of a wounded man.

“I deeply apologize for the delay in reporting. It took time, because obtaining trustworthy information in Lineage, where the infectious disease is raging, proved difficult.”

“That is fine. It would not be good news in any case. This world is filled with absurdity and sorrow.”

After a deep sigh, Ravel said,

“What has become of Lineage?”

The subordinate said,

“Lady Mythia has done it…! It seems Lineage has overcome the infectious disease and is trying to recover.”

“………………What?”