Will You Accept The Deal (3)

“Seriously….”

Jamie had firmly believed that the Grand Duchess of Tessen—the one who had sealed the Castle of Hell—was an angel.

But the angel kept using the Castle of Hell in ways he couldn’t understand.

Alicia, who should have been in Baden, was sending letters to Jamie through East Noah.

When the first note arrived saying she’d “leave a letter in front of East Noah’s gate,” Jamie had wondered what on earth she meant.

Even now, after receiving who-knew-how-many letters, he still couldn’t believe it.

It was mysterious, but outrageously efficient.

Jamie had gotten used to exchanging letters with Alicia through East Noah.

At first, he only came to check letters in the morning and evening, but lately he visited East Noah every two or three hours.

Was the angel-like mistress using a demon’s power?

Jamie forced down the questions that kept popping up.

He decided not to think about the principle or reason that made this delivery possible.

Despite that decision, his busy mind kept spinning up hypotheses.

Could the Grand Duchess even become a ghost?

Jamie didn’t believe in ghosts.

His thoughts drifted into whether ghosts could exist at all.

A man who, at four, had thought angels were fiction—and at twenty-four had come to believe angels existed—still found ghosts hard to accept.

Jamie placed the letter he had prepared into the gift box and returned to the castle.

Demon or ghost—what did it matter?

To him, his mistress was angel-like, and that was enough.

And above all, exchanging letters through East Noah was simply too convenient and efficient.

Through a miraculous, revolutionary method, he had found the “salt mountain” he’d assumed was a fairy-tale thing.

“That’s all that matters.”

Jamie swung up onto his horse with a proud smile.

There was room for controversy in the fact that, as the Grand Duke’s personal secretary, he was acting on the Grand Duchess’s separate orders.

But Jamie didn’t care in the slightest.

If anyone complained, they were surely a person blinded by envy of his angel-like mistress, nitpicking out of jealousy.

A salt mountain—a salt mountain!

Normally, Jamie wore a prickly face and clung strictly to rules, but since morning he had been literally running around with bouncing shoulders.

People were baffled by his sprinting—especially coming from the man who used to insist that anyone who ran indoors had air for brains.

Jamie ignored the attention. He was just happy, and if he could, he wanted to fly.

A salt mountain!

Right now, there was nothing in Jamie’s head but that single shout.

Eugene, the imperial Chief Steward, lowered himself deeply.

“Who?”

The Emperor, who had been writing, turned sharply and snarled.

It was the opposite of his usual image—always wearing a faint, leisurely smile.

“The Grand Duchess has requested an audience.”

The chief steward spoke as carefully as possible.

“I won’t see her.”

The Emperor decided quickly.

“I shall convey it.”

Eugene withdrew without asking twice or urging again.

The Emperor had been furious that, whenever Tessen negotiated over other nations’ labyrinths, it brandished the Rune Empire’s name to fine-tune conditions.

‘Using me. Again. Not just once or twice!’

Tessen—more precisely, Alicia, the Grand Duchess of Tessen—used the Emperor thoroughly.

If Eugene had seen his master use an absolute ruler that effectively, he would have applauded.

The problem was, Eugene was the Emperor’s chief steward, and his lord was the one being used without restraint.

Now, whenever someone from Tessen came to request an audience, the Emperor’s first thought was: What are they here to strip from me this time?

It pained Eugene to see the once-cool Emperor turning sensitive and emotional.

But he could understand the Emperor’s suspicion and anger.

Eugene entered the nobles’ waiting room where the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess sat, and bowed politely.

“Your Grace, Your Highness. I apologize for making you wait. His Majesty regretfully said he is occupied with state affairs and cannot spare the time.”

The Emperor’s chief steward delivered the refusal with elegance.

Reichardt looked to Alicia.

He seemed to have expected the refusal already.

Alicia wasn’t particularly surprised either.

She scribbled quickly on a small slip of paper and passed it to Reichardt.

“…….”

Seeing the word on the paper, Reichardt looked at Alicia with eyes full of trust.

Eugene craned his neck slightly, trying to read it.

“It seems I’ve been causing you much trouble, Chief Steward. Please deliver this to His Majesty. You may take your time.”

Alicia said with a soft smile.

Reichardt handed Eugene the slip he’d received.

Eugene flinched—alarmed at being given a piece of paper that might contain secrets.

After reading it, he was even more alarmed.

[Salt.]

The Emperor would accept the Grand Duchess’s request for an audience.

“I will return at once.”

Eugene bowed politely and moved fast.

He could already picture the Emperor furious and seething.

If it were the Emperor as he used to be, he would have refused at least once—just to crush the other party’s momentum—even if he was curious.

But with this note, no one could ignore the Grand Duchess.

What did salt do, exactly?

Eugene nearly asked out of sheer curiosity.

He swallowed down his pity for the Emperor and entered the office.

Clang!

As expected, the Emperor—usually so composed—erupted in rage.

For the first time in his reign, he hurled a teacup.

“Tell her to come in!”

Eugene tried not to show his pity and withdrew.

His Majesty was said to be busy.

Alicia was busy too.

So the moment she sat down, she poured out what she wanted to discuss.

“Under current imperial law, salt produced from salt pans is a state monopoly, correct? Salt imported from other nations is also managed at the national level. And salt brought in from abroad is also categorized as ‘produced from salt pans.’”

Alicia’s words were purely theoretical.

“You know it well, Grand Duchess. Should I praise you for being clever?”

The Emperor lifted his teacup and narrowed his eyes.

Alicia didn’t react to the absolute ruler’s open sarcasm.

“Then does the Rune Empire impose no restrictions at all on salt that was not produced from salt pans? In other words—if it isn’t salt from a salt pan, may that salt be freely bought and sold within the Empire?”

At Alicia’s question, the Emperor set his teacup down.

“Grand Duchess, salt is produced from salt pans.”

“Usually, yes.”

The Emperor dropped his tilted attitude and spoke calmly; Alicia replied in a sulky tone.

“Where does the Grand Duchess’s salt come from?”

“From a mountain.”

Alicia answered readily.

In the corner, the chief steward coughed—dry and startled.

Salt… from a mountain?

There were many puzzling parts to what Alicia said.

But the Emperor didn’t press her.

Forgetting he had negotiation partners right in front of him, he pressed a hand to his head.

His beautiful brow twisted harshly.

“What is your plan, Grand Duchess?”

He spoke with his hand on his forehead. His voice was heavy with fatigue.

“If I sold the salt from the mountain to the people of Tessen for half the current market price—or if, out of love for Tessen, I distributed it for free—what would happen?”

It was war.

Salt was a special, critical resource.

To destroy the market for such a resource was effectively a declaration of all-out conflict.

The Emperor couldn’t even lift his hand from his forehead.

“You’re not actually going to do that, are you?”

“Then what should I do with my salt?”

Alicia spoke in a troubled voice.

Because most countries controlled salt, selling it wrongly was a perfect way to trigger war.

The problem was, Tessen was strong enough to fight anyone who picked a quarrel.

If Alicia “went crazy” and flooded a chosen market with salt, that country would fall into chaos.

Then either it would be conquered by Tessen through desperate war, or it would be economically conquered when Tessen seized its salt market.

“Sell it to me.”

The Emperor spoke politely.

It was the most refined and courteous he had ever sounded to Alicia.

“I’m allowed to sell it expensively?”

Alicia laughed brightly.

From the Emperor’s perspective, she was a bandit without a blade.

And with Reichardt seated beside her, it was like she had an axe that moved however she wished—more dangerous than a bandit with a knife.

“A power-holder must know how to show mercy.”

“I don’t know anything about mercy.”

Alicia grumbled like a childish brat.

The Emperor flicked his eyes at Reichardt, as if saying: You say something too.

Reichardt sat quietly beside Alicia like a beautiful antique—doing nothing.

To the Emperor, he was useless.

He couldn’t believe this reality.

“I trust you understand that an absurd price that destroys market rates would be difficult.”

The Emperor spoke indirectly.

Make it cheaper, was what he meant.

“May I hear the rate Your Majesty has in mind first, and then also check rates with other places?”

“What is wrong with you two? How much do you want!”

Alicia’s sunny voice made the Emperor snap and shout.

“I have said nothing, Your Majesty.”

Reichardt replied with solemn politeness.

“You should say something! The Grand Duchess is still young—if her ambition runs wild, shouldn’t you be the one to calm her down!”

“I…”

Reichardt looked to Alicia.

Alicia nodded at his gaze.

“I thought a ‘salt mountain’ didn’t exist.”

Reichardt dropped the shocking statement without emotion.

The Emperor’s face went pale.

He had doubted Alicia’s “salt comes from a mountain,” but he hadn’t imagined it might truly be a salt mountain.

“Where is that mountain?”

Even while stunned, the Emperor asked for a secret with a straight face.

“In Tessen.”

Alicia answered innocently—like she’d give details if he asked one more question.

“Tessen, where. Kaip Mountain?”

“In Tessen.”

He pressed again; Alicia repeated calmly.

“…How large are the deposits?”

The Emperor gave up on extracting the location.

“I don’t know. The whole mountain is salt. Am I… going to be rich?”

The more cheerfully Alicia acted, the more anger rose in the Emperor.

He should have realized it the moment she asked to make Tessen a duchy.

Everything had been planned.

“Grand Duchess. Reichardt. You were once imperial citizens, and even now you are imperial citizens. Reichardt, you are royalty and my brother. The Grand Duchess is my family. …Write the rate you want.”

With a stricken face, the Emperor handed over paper and quill.

Alicia wrote the price she had prepared.

After checking it, the Emperor immediately stamped it with his seal.

It was a good deal for everyone.

The Grand Ducal Residence, Adelheid House district.

A peaceful noon.

Juan, passing by the Persephone Fountain, suddenly drew his sword and swung backward.

Clang!

A harsh ring of steel on steel echoed.

Clang-clang!

The attacker clicked their tongue—Tch!—at Juan’s swordsmanship that knocked their blade aside, then twisted their wrist and changed the blade’s angle.

Immediately after, they rushed in with indiscriminate strikes.

At the aggressive metallic clamor, the knights guarding Adelheid House heightened their alert stance.