AWLITEB Chapter 35

"Em-embezzlement? What, what kind of terrifying joke is that?"

The Viscountess barely managed to move her lips, forcing the words out. She even tried to laugh, as if begging her not to make such jokes.

The dress was the sort that even a proper noble lady might barely manage to commission once as part of her trousseau.

Yet here was the wife of a Viscount—a family with no territory of their own, subsisting on a salary for managing the Grand Duchy—wearing such a dress?

The conclusion was obvious.

This dress was the evidence of embezzlement that Genos had mentioned.

And since the Viscountess was so obligingly flustered, there was no need to press the point multiple times.

"Is that so? Are you saying it wasn't embezzlement?"

"......"

"Then shall we investigate, Viscountess? How exactly you paid for that dress."

"......I am still nobility, Miss. I know I may seem insignificant in your eyes—you who will soon become the Grand Duchess—but I'm not so destitute that I cannot afford a single dress."

"There aren't many nobles who can casually wear custom-made dresses studded with that many rubies, Viscountess. Are you trying to deceive me?"

Isabella's gaze locked with the Viscountess's.

The Viscountess bit her lip hard, trembling as she glared at Isabella.

If she backed down here, she'd be dominated by this little bloodstain of a girl. This girl might become the Grand Duchess, but she was the queen of this western Grand Duchy. Had been for a very long time. And she had no intention of relinquishing that position.

Being a mere Viscount managing an entire Grand Duchy—what a miracle that was. The comfort and thrilling sense of superiority that miracle provided couldn't be abandoned so easily.

So she had to survive this crisis somehow.

This naive chick of a girl thought she could intimidate her? Laughable!

"This is becoming increasingly unpleasant, Lady White. If you intend to continue treating me like a thief, I won't remain here any longer."

Isabella simply stared at the Viscountess's face, her expression unreadable.

The Viscountess grew more agitated, raising her voice further.

"I'll keep today's baseless accusations to myself! Your reputation is His Grace's reputation, after all. Now then, I'll take my leave first. You can rest assured—I'll forget about today's incident."

The Viscountess gave a brief bow and turned to leave, but Isabella seized her wrist.

In that moment, her strength ability manifested just slightly.

The Viscountess recoiled in shock, frantically shaking off Isabella's hand. Despite being held for only a moment, a bright red handprint marked her wrist.

Such strength in that skeletal frame. The more she looked, the more she disliked this girl.

"I haven't dismissed our conversation yet, Viscountess."

"So this is how you justify such rudeness—grabbing my hand? As a vassal of this western Grand Duchy, I—"

"Rudeness?"

Isabella let out a hollow laugh.

It wasn't some fake laugh meant to intimidate. The Viscountess could feel that much.

"If I were you, I'd be on my knees begging forgiveness in this situation. Wouldn't that be a far easier way to resolve things?"

"......I, I truly have no idea what you're talking about. Since you seem intent on continuing to confuse me, I really must leave now."

"You don't know what consequences await if you walk out that door, Viscountess."

"......"

The Viscountess's hand trembled anxiously as she grabbed the door handle.

Shame, humiliation, anxiety—she wanted to flee this place immediately, but her feet wouldn't move.

"If there were holes in the finances, His Grace couldn't possibly have been unaware. Meaning His Grace knew and chose to turn a blind eye. A few dresses and jewels purchased quarterly—that much was already permitted."

Isabella spoke to the back of the Viscountess's head.

The Viscountess held even her breath, listening silently.

"But such embezzlement can only be overlooked when it happens outside the master's sight."

Isabella's gaze slowly traced over the Viscountess's dress.

Even on second viewing, it was top-quality.

"His Grace has no interest whatsoever in women's dresses. Of course, he can distinguish between high-quality and cheap—but once a certain level is exceeded, he can't tell the difference. He avoids wasting energy paying unnecessary attention to matters that don't interest him."

Isabella approached the Viscountess slowly.

As the footsteps drew nearer, the Viscountess swallowed dryly, tension mounting.

It felt like someone was pulling at her ear from behind. Her entire body bristled with sensitivity.

That this pathetic, scrawny girl could make her this nervous—the thought wounded her pride to the point of madness.

But her body had frozen like ice. She couldn't move.

Honestly speaking, that dried-fish of a girl terrified her.

"As someone who's observed His Grace far longer than I have, you must know he's blind when it comes to women's dresses."

"......"

"But even so, there was no need to take the risk of wearing this dress on the day you'd meet His Grace. After all, it's a dress whose value he wouldn't recognize anyway. Meaning the person you wanted to show this dress to today was me, wasn't it, Viscountess?"

"......"

"If I'm wrong, tell me I'm wrong. I'll immediately correct myself and kneel in apology."

The Viscountess's mind was working furiously.

There was certainly merit in how she'd managed the Grand Duchy all this time with merely a Viscount's rank.

While her husband managed the territory in the Grand Duke's stead, she'd dominated high society, standing shoulder to shoulder with haughty noble ladies.

No ordinary social skill could achieve that. But it had never been as difficult and exhausting as today. She couldn't even guess what judgment to make.

"I'm not asking for much."

Isabella placed her hand on the Viscountess's shoulder.

The Viscountess flinched and shrank back like a dog that feared people.

"Don't try to insult me with expensive dresses and subtly condescending conversation."

"......"

"Promise me that, and I'll overlook the couple's petty embezzlement just as His Grace does. But if you can't do that—"

Isabella whirled the Viscountess around to face her.

"Kyaah!"

The Viscountess screamed involuntarily. Right now, Isabella seemed more terrifying than any ghost.

She couldn't even understand why.

Of course, having her weakness exposed was one thing, but why did she feel such overwhelming fear?

Something like a strange aura emanated from this child. The heavy, eerie energy flowing from Isabella felt like hands around her throat.

"I'll go to His Grace and tell him the Viscount couple insulted me. It wouldn't even be a lie—you did insult me. With your excellent social skills, you must have sensed how deeply His Grace cherishes me."

"......"

"With all the embezzlement you've committed, bringing down you and your husband would be simple. Finding successors might give me a bit of a headache, but it's hardly impossible—you and the Viscount would be easily forgotten."

The Viscountess's spirit was shattering like broken bamboo.

In this moment, Isabella held the advantage. Even the flow of air tilted toward her.

"Will you lose everything you hold in your hands for the sake of petty pride, or will you acknowledge me as Grand Duchess and enjoy peace?"

Isabella gripped the Viscountess's shoulders with both hands, smiling coldly.

The blue diamond at her throat flashed like lightning.

The Viscountess could feel in her bones that this was not someone she could oppose.

Before an overwhelmingly powerful opponent, one must bow one's head and beg for mercy. That was nature's law.

"......Your Grace, the Grand Duchess."

The Viscountess dropped to both knees before Isabella. She placed both hands on the floor and bent her head down, staring at the ground.

"Please forgive this lowly person and accept me as your servant."

The Viscountess spoke solemnly.

There was no sarcasm whatsoever. She had genuinely declared defeat and bowed her head.

Partly for her own benefit, yes—but Isabella's display of leadership had played its part too.

Isabella White would make an acceptable Grand Duchess.

Wasn't she, who had looked down on this girl, now on her knees bowing—less than ten minutes after entering this study?

"I gratefully accept your loyalty."

Isabella gently brought her palm to the Viscountess's chin and lifted it.

Then she smiled.

The magnanimity of the victor.

Knock knock.

Just as Isabella had finished bathing and returned to her room, she heard knocking.

Still patting her wet hair dry with a towel, Isabella called toward the door.

"Your Grace?"

"That's right. I knocked properly this time."

At Genos's proud voice, Isabella smiled and opened the door.

Genos wore the same clothes he'd had on when meeting the Viscount couple.

"You haven't changed yet?"

"I meant to look over some documents before bathing, but it got too late. Did you bathe alone again today?"

Genos glanced at Isabella's wet hair and nightgown.

"Yes. I like bathing alone too. Gives me time to think. But I keep noticing—this region's bath oil is wonderful. So smooth, and the scent is lovely. The shampoo too."

Isabella pulled a strand of her long hair straight, demonstrating.

Genos bent slightly, inhaling the fragrance of her hair.

In that moment—surprised by Genos suddenly moving close—Isabella reflexively punched him in the stomach.

"Ugh."

Because Isabella's strength ability had activated slightly without her realizing, Genos wrapped his arms around his abdomen and bent at the waist.

Isabella also started in surprise, hastily running her hands over his abdomen.

"A-are you all right, Your Grace? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!"

"Isn't this a bit harsh? We're engaged, and you're trying to kill me."

"That's not—you suddenly came close and I reacted—I'm sorry. Did it hurt badly?"

"......"

"What? I'm asking if it hurt badly."

"You punched me for smelling your hair, and now you've been touching me this long?"

"What do you—oh!"

Only then realizing she'd been endlessly groping his abdomen, Isabella quickly withdrew her hands.

"I'm sorry."

"Right. One 'I'm sorry' fixes everything. Punching someone's stomach and groping them."

"......I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, I get it."

Chuckling, Genos lightly grasped Isabella's hand and guided her to sit on the bed. Then he pulled over a chair and sat beside it.

"Lower your dress."

She heard Genos opening the ointment jar behind her.

Even though she'd heard those words countless times, whenever Genos said them, she inexplicably felt tense.

Isabella unfastened the front buttons of her dress and pulled it down.

As the dress slipped below her shoulders, Genos applied ointment to her back. His hands were always meticulous as he spread the medicine across her skin.

Receiving that meticulous, tender touch, Isabella always felt a strange heat.

"It's definitely fading now. Good thing we stocked up on more ointment before leaving the northern region."

"Yes. I think so too. The scars on my stomach and thighs have faded much more. Because of that, the ointment stings a bit when I apply it, so I've been spacing out the applications more."

"Really? That's a good sign. At this rate, by the time we return to the capital, you'll be able to let maids attend your baths. Even if they don't disappear completely, we can explain them as traces of childhood fever."

'Then His Grace won't be applying ointment anymore.'

The thought suddenly occurred to Isabella, and she quickly emptied her mind as if someone might overhear.

'This insane possessiveness.'

What could she do about this desire that rampaged without warning?

"Do you like all the bath products from this region?"

Genos asked.

Isabella answered quickly, trying to calm her turbulent thoughts.

"Yes, Your Grace! The soap is good, and the bath oil, the shampoo—everything. Oh, and the toothpaste too."

"Really? Opinions are a bit divided, but western bath products are quite popular. The salt and seaweed from the western seas are perfect for making them."

"Is that so? I only knew the seafood was famous, but bath products are regional specialties too."

"That's the trend these days. Then we should buy plenty before we leave, so you can use them even after entering the imperial palace. They don't stock western bath products there."

"What? No, there's no need to go that far."

"Wool jackets from the north, seafood and bath products from the west, fruit and naturally-dyed handkerchiefs from the south, vegetables and tonics from the east—you should eat, wear, and use the best from each."

"......"

"You should live surrounded by the finest things, Isabella. Keep what you like best close at hand."

Genos closed the ointment jar and personally pulled her dress back up.

Isabella swallowed dryly, staring straight ahead in silence.

"I want my fiancée to live that way. Befitting a Grand Duchess. Befitting my most—no, my only—beloved warhorse. You can be that greedy, can't you?"

"......Yes, Your Grace."

Pleased with her answer, Genos's quiet laughter sounded from behind her.

"Tomorrow we'll visit the orphanage and the homeless shelter."

Isabella turned to look at Genos.

Since she hadn't fastened the buttons yet, she held the gaping dress closed with her hand.

"Then in the evening we'll go to the beach, so get plenty of sleep today. Don't tire yourself out."

"The beach?"

"Right. We can't visit the west without seeing the beach at least once."

Genos gave Isabella's thin frame a light push.

Her head landed precisely on the pillow as she fell back.

"Sleep well, Bella."

Genos leaned over and blew out the candle on the bedside table. Fwooo.

As the magically intensified candlelight extinguished, darkness flooded the room.

In the dark room, Genos's lips touched Isabella's forehead softly, then lifted away.

Isabella's entire body went rigid.

A strange contact that made her whole body hypersensitive—different from those hands that had caressed her back while applying ointment.

She heard Genos open the door, then close it.

Isabella remained frozen with wide eyes. Like someone caught unprepared in a blizzard, frozen solid.