The Emperor's Debrief and the Market's Bounty
Before dawn had fully broken, Britain had already risen from sleep and trained with his sword in the practice yard. Only when the sky lightened did he make his way to the Emperor’s study.
Upon arrival, he found Parmes Aslet—the Emperor himself—already poring over morning reports. The Aslet family’s signature silver hair framed a face radiating an icy, spine-chilling aura.
“Your Majesty, it is Britain.”
Though Parmes had long known his son had come, he only lifted his eyes from the documents when Britain’s voice reached him. The Emperor’s crimson eyes showed no fatigue, yet today they seemed unusually dry.
Britain caught the faint scent of blood clinging to his father. A light smear of it stained the collar of his uniform—evidence of a grueling interrogation the night before.
“Yes, Crown Prince,” Parmes murmured, his lips barely moving. “Has last night’s matter been resolved?”
A brief silence fell. Now it was Britain’s turn to report. If the interrogated men had not all perished, his account would serve as supplementary evidence.
“Yes, Your Majesty. I shall report on last night’s events.”
Duke Gement had filed a preliminary report, but Britain had been present from the start.
“The Second Prince’s remnants were lying in wait within the pond. They likely intended to ambush prominent figures as they emerged for the banquet. My appearance must have seemed a welcome prize to them.”
“Did they not target Arinell?”
“From their behavior, they seemed unaware of her. But they sought to kill her alongside me to silence any witnesses.”
Britain’s blue eyes flashed with cold fury. Though they had not known Arinell was the Marquis Maila’s daughter, his words confirmed the truth. Parmes furrowed his brow briefly—he had knocked out a few men to pry that detail loose.
“Though Duke Gement claims to have captured all their waiting forces, there must have been an insider who aided their entry. The pond’s uneven depth would require prior knowledge of the terrain to position ambushers effectively. I recommend a thorough investigation of the servants and maids familiar with the area.”
“A sound observation.”
Britain was right—someone had assisted them, and whoever it was would soon join the others in the underground dungeon.
“Still, you said Duke Gement took time to reach the ballroom, yet you bought Arinell time until his arrival.”
“……”
“You had no sword, while they were armed.”
Britain met his father’s gaze. Parmes’s piercing, analytical eyes left no room for secrets. Though he had already heard answers from the interrogated men, he wanted to hear Britain’s account once more.
“I owe Arinell my life.”
Britain’s voice was low, his lips barely moving. His blue eyes darkened. Last night, he had tasted a terrifying helplessness for the first time in his life. The fear of failing to protect Arinell had outweighed even the threat of his own death. That fear had become reality—his foolish decision to attend the masquerade without a sword had nearly sealed their fate.
“In the moment before death, Arinell used spirit magic to repel them.”
Britain reported how Arinell had saved him from the crisis. Parmes’s crimson eyes widened in shock.
Arinell has awakened her spirit power! And…
Just as the Maila had once protected him, his daughter had now protected Britain.
“……”
Britain kept his head bowed, silent for a long moment, but his eyes burned with a chilling intensity. Though he had trained with the sword, he had never possessed a clear purpose—like a carp in a predator-free pond, he had grown accustomed to safety. Yesterday’s harrowing ordeal had given him a motive sharper than any blade.
“I have come to understand my weakness… and I repent.”
Britain clenched his fist as he spoke. Parmes’s cold eyes reproached him, yet also spurred him on.
“I will grow strong—so that child never faces danger again.”
Britain’s blue eyes gleamed with resolve.
“Ugh!”
I stretched as I woke, then began preparing for a trip to the market. I chose practical clothes over a lace dress—there would be plenty of walking today.
If Lady Alence sees my fashion sense, she might have something to say about it.
“Ready to go!”
The fields purchased through the Anus Earl’s household would take time for the red sugar beets to grow. Until then, I’d need to buy fresh ones for ingredients.
I’m planning a tasting event before officially launching the business, so I’ll need to prepare plenty.
Since the masquerade ball, red sugar beets had become a hot trend among nobles. Some had tried to recreate my sherbet but failed, I’d heard. Lady Alence had told me many were eagerly awaiting my business’s launch.
Adam reported on the preparations beside me.
“We received many volunteers. Many had experience in the food industry, so we hired a mix of seasoned workers and newcomers.”
“Everyone hired will be handling processing, correct?”
“Yes. But none have ever prepared red sugar beets, so please instruct them well, my lady.”
“Of course!”
I was confident teaching beet preparation. I’d demonstrated it to three neighbors in Galnem whenever I had the chance, and two days ago, I’d shown the palace chefs during the masquerade ball. The head chef had stared at my small, capable hands with awe, even begging me to visit the palace again.
“You have exceptional talent!”
Our carriage rolled out of the Marquisate and soon halted before the capital’s bustling market. Stalls lined the alleyways, selling vegetables, meats, and sweets. Children darted between vendors, and jugglers performed outside shops to draw crowds. The lively scene made me feel like a child on a market outing.
“Shall we find some good beets?”
“Of course, my lady.”
Adam gladly escorted me. I donned a sun-protective bonnet and began inspecting the stalls.
Red sugar beets. A similar vegetable existed in my modern world, but this fantasy version was entirely different. Resembling fruit, it tasted astringent if unprepared but, when skillfully peeled, offered a flavor like mango and apple tossed with sugar. Locals, unaware of the proper technique, dismissed it as a worthless bitter fruit—many stalls didn’t even sell it.
After visiting several shops, I finally found one that did. It sat in the market’s most secluded corner, flies buzzing around it.
“Child, you’ll buy all of these?”
The shopkeeper stared at me, bewildered.
I smiled brightly and nodded. “Yes.”
“You must raise many livestock. But be careful—feeding too many to horses can cause stomach issues.”
“Ah, they’re not for horses…”
The pile of beets cost no more than a basket of apples.
“For people to eat.”
The shopkeeper’s eyes widened. Then, a look of pity washed over him.
“Tell me you’re not… eating red sugar beets?”
I replied calmly, “Yes.”
He studied my slender arms and delicate hands, then suddenly glared at Adam, raising an eyebrow.
“Is this true? What this child says?”
Adam nodded, slightly flustered. “Well… yes, that’s true.”
The shopkeeper’s face hardened in shock. He pointed a finger at Adam.
“No matter how hard times are, you shouldn’t treat your daughter this way. Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
I recoiled in surprise. His gaze was as if he were looking at the worst villain in the world.
“Y-yes? Me?”
Adam, suddenly cast as a cruel father, pointed at himself in confusion.