Chapter 4

⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁣⁠⁣⁣⁣⁣⁠⁣⁣⁣⁣⁠⁣⁣⁠⁣⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁣⁣⁠⁣⁣⁠⁠⁠⁣⁠⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁠⁠⁣⁣⁠⁠⁣⁣⁣⁣⁠⁣⁠⁣⁠⁠The two most formidable opponents were present. The first was the Minister of Finance, Ian Gray, the true power player among the Hebaron Kingdom’s bureaucrats.

 

“Persuading Count Gray will likely be the biggest hurdle. The kingdom’s treasury only opens once the Count gives his final nod.”

 

Tatisha, having given up on coaxing Renee to eat breakfast, plopped down on the edge of the bed beside her. Renee nodded in agreement.

 

“The one who moves the money always holds the power. Even back in school, the kid who was class president always ended up as the treasurer for the alumni association.”

 

“……Pardon?”

 

“Never mind. Just a thought.”

 

Renee crossed one leg over the other and began to tap her foot anxiously.

 

“My Lady! Please, maintain your dignity!”

 

Tatisha looked distressed, seeing that Renee wasn’t even listening.

 

“But Tatisha,” Renee’s face, already stiff, grew even darker. “Actually, there’s a mountain even higher than Count Gray.”

 

“What? Who could that be?”

 

“Count Gray is a strict principled man who won’t tolerate a single gap, but that also means he can be reached through logic. It’s not entirely impossible.”

 

“And? Wait, more importantly, how do you know so much about him, My Lady?”

 

Tatisha asked, her eyes wide with surprise. Renee stopped her fidgeting leg and let out a deep sigh.

 

The second formidable opponent: Duke Galael of the Haksen family, who oversaw all land-related affairs for the kingdom.

 

Galael Haksen was a character she had planted specifically to inject suspense into her novel. He was designed to stir up conflict and keep the story interesting.

 

Readers of <The Sickly Duchess Plans to Kill Her Husband> would bombard the comments with curses whenever Galael appeared. A ‘troll’ second to none, he was a character born to be hated, acting solely to provoke spite.

 

“My Lady? Please finish. Who is this ‘higher mountain’ than the Finance Minister?”

 

Tatisha’s face was filled with curiosity as she pressed for an answer. Renee only sighed again and ruffled her hair.

 

“There’s just someone like that, Tatisha. It’s hard to explain. Sorry.”

 

Tatisha looked deflated but didn’t push further. If it had been Bonnie, she would have grabbed Renee’s sleeve and hopped around until she got an answer.

 

“My Lady! I’m here!”

 

As if summoned by telepathy, Bonnie burst into the room with pitter-pattering footsteps. In her plump, soft hands, she carried the dress Renee was to wear today.

 

After hanging the dress carefully to prevent wrinkles, Bonnie whipped around. She glanced between Tatisha and Renee sitting side-by-side and pouted.

 

“Were you two having a private conversation?”

 

Tatisha scoffed the moment Bonnie finished speaking.

 

“Whether I was discussing something private or trivial with Her Ladyship is none of your business.”

 

“I don’t care to know! I’m only here to help My Lady dress. This is my job!”

 

“Exactly. Why on earth did you start splitting the duties I used to handle alone?”

 

“Maybe it’s because I’m incredibly good at my job? Since the morning service is over, you may see yourself out, Lady Tatisha!”

 

Here they went again. Renee buried her face in her hands.

 

During her period of confinement, Bonnie, who had monitored her, was originally a maid who wandered the outskirts of Sainer Castle doing odd jobs. It was Renee’s wish to make her a personal maid.

 

While they had grown fond of each other over a short time, the bigger reason was pity.

 

Unlike Tatisha, who came from an established family of educators and received professional training from a young age, Bonnie was a commoner who had been taken in by Melda. She was an orphan. Her daily routine had mostly consisted of cleaning empty buildings and doing every chore the castle required.

 

Naturally, Tatisha, who had served Renee since childhood, viewed the suddenly-arrived Bonnie as an unwelcome interloper.

 

“Tatisha. Bonnie.”

 

The two, locked in a silent war of nerves, finally looked away from each other upon hearing Renee’s low, heavy voice.

 

“My head is about to explode even without you two, so please, stop fighting like puppies and help me.”

 

“Yes. Whatever you need, just say the wor—”

 

“I’ll help you, My Lady!”

 

Tatisha and Bonnie answered as if in a race. Renee stood up without a word and headed toward the hanger.

 

Behind her, she could hear them bickering. “Why are you stepping in when she asked me? No, she was talking to me! Where does this round little thing get the nerve? Oh, I’m sure it’s nice being a beanpole.”

 

While the two maids exchanged “compliments,” Renee took off her home dress and changed on her own. A beautiful, lustrous navy dress fell perfectly over her frame.

 

‘Ian Gray. Galael Haksen. There must be a way to persuade them both.’

 

Renee brushed her now-dry hair to one side.

 

‘Think, Renee. Use your head.’

 

 

***

 

 

The luncheon was held in the Main Hall of the Great Chamber, one of the most symbolic buildings in Sainer Castle.

 

Accompanied by Tatisha and Bonnie, Renee climbed the stone steps of the Great Chamber, forcing herself to slow her hurried pace. Beyond the doors lay a corridor with ceilings so high it felt like two or three floors had been hollowed out.

 

Her footsteps echoed from all directions. Finally reaching the Main Hall, Renee paused before the massive marble doors.

 

Bonnie, looking up at her as she straightened her clothes, reached out and tucked a stray hair back along Renee’s forehead.

 

“Truly! You are more beautiful than ever today, My Lady!”

 

Bonnie’s round eyes were shimmering. Her clear gaze was overflowing with sincerity.

 

With her fine, rose-colored hair swept up neatly, Renee was indeed breathtaking. Her long, elegant neckline and the subtle outline of her collarbones were enough to captivate anyone.

 

The navy dress, which shimmered faintly as she moved, highlighted her fair, clear skin. Even the rustle of the fabric with every step evoked a strange, ethereal atmosphere.

 

Tatisha carefully inspected Renee’s appearance with a calm gaze. After finishing her check, she lightly stroked Renee’s arm.

 

“Have a wonderful meal, My Lady. I’ll be waiting.”

 

The look in Tatisha’s eyes, conveying deep trust, was as steady and solid as an old tree trunk. Even as she offered a light wish for a good meal, her eyes were saying something else: “Keep your wits about you, My Lady, lest you be decimated in the meeting and carried out.”

 

Renee felt as though she could actually hear that husky voice. When Renee nodded solemnly, Tatisha nodded back.

 

Extending both arms, Tatisha pushed the doors open. As Renee stepped into the hall, the ministers who were already seated rose as one.

 

Every head bowed to greet her. They watched her with looks ranging from curiosity to wariness.

 

It made sense. It was extremely rare for the ministers who managed the state alongside the Grand Duke to face the Grand Duke’s wife in such a setting.

 

The tension in the hall swept over Renee like a massive wave.

 

‘I’m doomed. What is this atmosphere?’

 

The experience of her final interview for a corporate internship flashed through her mind. This pressure was incomparable.

 

Her mind began to spiral into a silent panic. Forcing a calm demeanor, she placed a hand on her chest and bowed slightly to the ministers.

 

Once the greetings were exchanged, the ministers sat back down one by one. Renee looked around the hall to settle her nerves.

 

The hall was lavishly decorated with colorful flowers and structures, and sweet music was playing. There were roughly twenty ministers seated at the long table.

 

Ricard, who had been sitting in the center with a stiff expression, stood up as if he had been waiting. He walked around the table to greet her, his gaze momentarily sweeping over her entire form.

 

His wavering gaze stopped at Renee’s neatly pinned hair and her exposed neck. For some reason, Ricard’s eyes seemed to lose their direction for a moment.

 

Renee stared back at him blankly. Perhaps because of the important meeting, he looked more sensitive than usual, dressed in a pale blue shirt and a black suit.

 

His black hair was swept back as always, making his forehead look exceptionally clean and sharp today. The soft light from the chandeliers made him look even more dashing.

 

“You’ve arrived on time, My Lady. Please, sit.”

 

With a slight delay, Ricard extended his hand. Renee placed her hand on his, and he guided her to the center of the table.

 

“Let us begin the meal.”

 

With his brief words, the luncheon officially started.

 

While those nearby conversed in low voices, Renee chewed her steak mechanically before carefully setting down her fork and knife.

 

She felt like the food would get stuck in her throat. She desperately wanted to gulp down ice-cold water.

 

However, the only liquid on the table was red wine.

 

‘Nothing else.’

 

Picking up the glass, Renee intended only to wet her throat, but she began to drink the wine steadily.

 

When she placed the glass back on the table, it was empty. The nearby ministers, who had been secretly watching her while pretending to eat, couldn’t hide their surprise.

 

Ricard also looked at her, startled.

 

“Stop. Don’t get drunk and make a scene again.”

 

His eyes seemed to say just that.

 

In truth, she was the most surprised. To down a glass of wine like a shot of soju and beer…

 

Perhaps she was more nervous than she realized. She had to stay sharp to win the upcoming debate.

 

“Actually, this is a meeting we should have had long ago. Since I dislike such formalities, I am only now introducing my wife to the ministers.”

 

The first to respond to Ricard’s words was a silver-haired official sitting at the end of the table.

 

“It is an honor, Grand Duke. and My Lady. Since we rarely cross paths despite living in the same castle, I am more than happy to share a meal like this.”

 

Renee looked at the elderly silver-haired man and began frantically trying to deduce his identity.

 

Among the twenty major officials she had set for <The Sickly Duchess Plans to Kill Her Husband>, someone that old with deep wrinkles at his eyes and mouth, stark white hair, and hazel eyes…

 

‘I have no idea.’

 

She couldn’t tell. She smiled mechanically and began choosing her words.

 

Though this was her first time living as a noblewoman, she possessed the skill to navigate a conversation without knowing exactly who her interlocutor was.

 

“The honor is mine. I am delighted to enjoy a luncheon with such precious individuals who work tirelessly for the kingdom’s prosperity.”

 

Her words weren’t particularly special, yet every minister was staring at her. Their expressions were collectively… peculiar.

 

How should she put it?

 

‘They look like they’ve never seen a woman in a long, flowing dress sitting at the table and speaking up.’

 

It wasn’t a great feeling, but Renee quickly controlled her expression. She might just be misinterpreting things because she was nervous.

 

“Since everyone is busy with their duties, let’s move on to our discussion without further delay.”

 

As expected, Ricard was likely the most impatient man in the kingdom. Everyone quickly set down their utensils.

 

Ricard spoke with a hardened expression.

 

“As you know, my wife intends to start a business. What are the ministers’ opinions?”

 

The moment he finished, a heavy silence fell. Some looked calm, as if they had prepared for this, while others looked distressed, as if thinking, ‘I hoped it wasn’t true, but it really is.’

 

Renee felt like she was sitting on a bed of nails. She wished someone—anyone—would break this silence, even if it were to vehemently oppose her.

 

A middle-aged man with neatly combed gray hair raised his hand for the floor. It was the Minister of Finance, Ian Gray.

 

‘Here it comes.’

 

Renee bit her lip. Ricard nodded.

 

“Pardon me, but I am against it.”

 

It was a brief but incredibly powerful blow.

 

‘I knew it. I knew Ian would oppose it…….’

 

Renee’s shoulders slumped. She had expected it, but it still drained her energy.

 

Meanwhile, it was highly unusual for someone as powerful as Ian to be so blunt from the start. He was a thorough man who knew better than anyone that words could not be taken back. He never spoke until his thoughts were absolutely firm.

 

Thus, in meetings chaired by Ricard, his turn to speak was usually last. His specialty was listening quietly to others and then dismantling their arguments in one go.

 

Yet, he had uncharacteristically stepped forward first and even offered a flat “I disagree” to Ricard himself.

 

Relief swept over the faces of the officials who shared Ian’s view. Having Ian on their side of the debate was more reassuring than anything.

 

“The reason?” Ricard asked calmly.

 

Ian took a sip of water and lightly clasped his hands. He then stroked his left thumbnail with his right thumb—a habit he had when organizing his thoughts.

 

“I believe the Grand Duke already knows.”

 

The tone felt somewhat provocative, causing everyone at the table to look at Ian in surprise.

 

Yet Ricard’s expression didn’t change at all. He didn’t seem to care about Ian’s tone. He simply gestured for Ian to continue.

 

Ian went on.

 

“There is no reason for a Duchess to involve herself in a business that commoners do. That is to say, there is no reason to support it.”

 

The corners of Ricard’s mouth tightened slightly. Renee clasped her hands over her lap. Her palms began to sweat.

 

“Furthermore, Your Ladyship is the noble wife of the Grand Duke who rules this nation. If you seek private profit, the citizens of Hebaron—and even those of neighboring countries—will raise issues.”

 

Every word was undeniably logical. Silence followed Ian’s speech.

 

“Any other opinions?”

 

At Ricard’s question, someone sitting across from Ian asked for the floor. With tawny hair and teal eyes, he was Marquis Rayden of the Brick family.

 

One of Ricard’s most loyal subjects alongside Ian, he was the Minister of Foreign Affairs. While Ian was generally conservative, Rayden was the most progressive in his dealings.

 

The ‘refreshing’ character of Sainer Castle, he was a favorite among readers. Renee stared at Rayden’s mouth with a desperate heart.

 

‘Please. Please give me a “refreshing” moment, Lord Rayden. Please!’

 

“To be honest, I was quite taken aback when I first heard that Her Ladyship intended to start a business.”

 

Under her cold dress, Renee’s legs were practically twitching. Though she had stumbled into this business idea and the coffee shop had been decided by chance, in this moment, she felt as if business was her lifelong dream.

 

Rayden continued with a confident gaze.

 

“However, after much consideration, I have decided to support it.”

 

‘Yes!’

 

Renee cheered inwardly, gripping her hands tightly. She wanted to high-five Rayden right then and there.

 

‘I knew it! I knew Rayden would back me! He’s the progressive character I planted among these stuffy bureaucrats!’

 

A smile she couldn’t hide spread across Renee’s face. However, the ministers in her sight all began to murmur with sour expressions.

 

“And why is that?”

 

It was Ricard’s question that silenced the noise. Rayden spoke calmly.

 

“As you all know, our Hebaron Kingdom is part of the Byzantio Empire. And the seven nations within the empire are competing to propose higher taxes to the empire. What do you think is the reason for that?”

 

He directed the question not to Ricard, but to the ministers.

 

With the ministers still observing the mood in silence, Ian stepped in again.

 

“It’s part of a power struggle. To gain favor with the Emperor. I don’t see why you’re stating the obvious during such an important meeting.”

 

Ian’s sharp tone caused the atmosphere at the table to chill rapidly once more.

 

Renee watched Rayden’s mouth with bated breath. She desperately hoped he would persuade Ian and the others with perfect logic. If she could, she would have put on a cheerleader uniform and done backflips to support him.

 

“Yes. As you said, the seven kingdoms, including ours, maintain a constant state of tension. Meanwhile, we are under constant threat from monsters of the Middle Realm. If we lose the power struggle, we could end up under the rule of another kingdom.”

 

“Lord Brick! What are you saying in front of the Grand Duke? This is beyond insolent!”

 

Someone at the end of the table interrupted, raising their voice.

 

“Continue,” Ricard mediated with a firm tone.

 

Rayden, who had paused, resumed his speech.

 

“Furthermore, our kingdom is in the extreme north. Crops and resources are not abundant, and the weather is notoriously foul. In summer, extreme rainy seasons often ruin harvests, and in winter, the ground freezes in the bitter cold. Is that all?”

 

He was right. Due to its geography, Hebaron was not an easy place to live.

 

“As I mentioned, our kingdom is frequently attacked by monsters, so more than half the national budget goes to defense. That is why everyone works so hard to make the country prosper through trade and business.”

 

Rayden paused to take a sip from his glass.

 

“So,” Ian interjected sharply. “The Grand Duke’s family goes out into the middle of the plaza to do business. Merchants and people from all nations flock to the plaza, causing commerce to flourish. As commerce develops, trade becomes active. Through this, you aim to promote national economic development. Is that what you’re trying to say, Lord Brick?”

 

Rayden nodded at Ian’s question.

 

“As expected of Lord Gray. You are exactly right.”

 

Rayden offered a fairly relaxed smile.

 

The ministers began to murmur again. Many shook their heads with openly displeased expressions.

 

“I don’t understand at all. The national economy isn’t on the verge of collapse, so why must Her Ladyship start a business at this point?”

 

The question came from Jason Valond, the official overseeing the kingdom’s construction and transportation.

 

“Even if Lord Brick is right, the risks far outweigh the benefits. There is no guarantee the business will succeed, and the prospect of Her Ladyship’s shop leading to national prosperity is absurd.”

 

Several people agreed with Jason.

 

“Above all, as Lord Gray mentioned, how do you plan to handle the rumors if people say the Grand Ducal family is seeking private profit?”

 

The moment he finished, someone else added their voice.

 

Arguments and counter-arguments followed, and the atmosphere grew heated. Those in favor were a tiny minority, but they didn’t back down easily.

 

As the debate intensified, the tone of the remarks grew sharper. It started to cross lines, and eventually, comments even flew out suggesting that ‘supporting one’s husband and raising children are the only things a woman should do,’ subtly belittling Renee.

 

Ian, who had stepped back to watch, began to take issue with the recent comments directed at her. But the heated ministers, their faces flushed, simply continued their bickering.

 

Renee, who had been silent with her head bowed, suddenly looked up. At that moment, she sensed it.

 

Ricard, sitting to her left and quietly observing, was getting very angry, very quickly.

 

His hand, gripping a knife, was trembling. The blood from the steak dripping from the tip of the blade felt strangely eerie.

 

‘Why is he still holding the knife? Is he about to carve someone up……?’

 

The quicker-witted ministers began to watch Ricard’s mood. But most were so caught up in the debate that they didn’t stop.

 

Clang—!

 

A sudden, loud crash brought instant silence to the room. Having finally slammed his knife onto the table, Ricard gritted his teeth.

 

Renee, who had squeezed her eyes shut, reflexively bolted upright from her seat.

 

“I will!”

 

It was a shout so thunderous it was hard to believe it came from a refined noblewoman. Every minister stared at Renee, mouths agape.

 

Ricard was no different. His rage had vanished, replaced by a look of sheer shock as he looked up at her, his lips parted.

 

“May I say a few words?” Renee added.

 

It was so quiet that the sound of her heartbeat felt like a drum in her ears.

 

Among those blinking in surprise, Ricard looked the most stunned.

 

“Give me a chance to persuade you.”

 

“Sit down.”

 

Before Renee could finish, Ricard hurriedly tried to stop her.

 

He was someone who always used formal speech in front of others. The fact that he cut off his words now showed he was too flustered to maintain appearances.

 

He seemed worried about what his unpredictable wife might do next. It even looked like he was already embarrassed, though she hadn’t even said anything yet.

 

When Renee didn’t budge and remained standing, Ricard reached out and grabbed her wrist. He tried to pull her back down, but Renee firmly shook off his hand.

 

“No. I was the one who said I would start a business, not the Grand Duke. It is only right that I explain and persuade.”

 

Ricard rubbed his forehead, looking extremely distressed. With a look like someone watching a child near a cliff, he finally nodded.

 

Renee cleared her throat. Ricard watched her, looking as anxious as a dog that needs to go out.

 

Renee scanned the long rectangular table. Every minister was watching her with suspicious eyes.

 

Some didn’t hide their curiosity, waiting to see what nonsense she would spout, while others looked ready to pounce the moment she made the slightest mistake.

 

‘In the real world, I couldn’t even get a job and just ended up married… can I really persuade all these people?’

 

She felt herself shrinking. Moreover, this was a novel world where she hadn’t even lived for two months.

 

‘Wait. A novel world…….’

 

A bright light suddenly flashed in Renee’s wavering eyes.

 

That’s right. This was a novel world. And the author was none other than herself.

 

‘No one knows this world better than I do. I spent months on research and even drew the imperial maps myself. I know the inner secrets of every single character.’

 

It felt like she had found a path in the darkness. Renee spoke in a calm voice.

 

“Do the ministers happen to know the process by which the Dolor Kingdom fell into decline?”

 

As she asked the question, Renee looked around the room. Perhaps because it was an unexpected question, no one stepped forward to answer.

 

“If our Hebaron Kingdom is in the extreme north, the Dolor Kingdom is in the extreme west. It is similar to our Hebaron Kingdom in that the soil is not fertile, so crops do not grow well, and it is vulnerable to foreign invasion.”

 

Renee paused for a short breath and then continued.

 

“You all know that Tanue Plaza, the heart of the kingdom, was located near the ocean. And you also know the reason why the Tanue Plaza commercial district failed.”

 

When Renee finished, Rayden nodded in agreement. He then naturally picked up Renee’s point.

 

“The merchants of Tanue Plaza exploited the regional characteristic of Dolor Kingdom—the lack of resources. They used ships to buy up all the goods from neighboring kingdoms, monopolized the market, and hiked up prices.”

 

Renee nodded.

 

“Correct. As that situation persisted, no one visited Tanue Plaza anymore. Since the plaza—the center of commerce—failed, the nation’s commerce declined in a chain reaction.”

 

A blond official who had been watching the situation in silence raised his hand. It was Baron Neville of the Gold family, who oversaw the national economy.

 

“I think I know where Her Ladyship is going with this. I have also heard reports that the merchants of Pomfritz Square are attempting to follow the same path as those of Tanue Plaza.”

 

“Yes. If I open a shop in Pomfritz Square, I will ensure such a situation is prevented. To keep from falling into ruin like the Dolor Kingdom, we must protect the commercial integrity of Pomfritz.”

 

When Renee finished her statement, the room fell into a collective silence. Some officials exchanged meaningful glances, conversing through their eyes alone.

 

Ian furrowed his brow. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, then opened them to stare at Renee with an unreadable expression.

 

Ricard, meanwhile, looked utterly stunned. He had never imagined his wife would know anything about the history of the Dolor Kingdom or the intricacies of corrupt commercial districts.

 

“Next, to silence the accusations that the Grand Ducal family is attempting to accumulate private wealth…”

 

Renee moved on to her next point. The officials were now waiting for her words with much more serious expressions than when she had first started. Rayden, in particular, looked at her with eyes that practically sparkled.

 

“I propose that we transparently disclose the business profits to the citizens and then contribute them to the national treasury.”

 

Renee paused to gauge the reaction. At least half of the people present looked as though they hadn’t fully grasped her meaning.

 

“It would be returned to the citizens of Hebaron. We could provide food for the hungry and shelter for the homeless.”

 

It was, essentially, a medieval version of 21st-century social welfare. Most of the bureaucrats, who had been busy following her explanation, stared at her with wide eyes.

 

Seeing the obvious shock on their faces, Renee felt her tension begin to ease. She started to feel confident that her argument was gaining traction. In an era where relief for the poor was mostly handled through individual noble charity, her proposal to address it at a state level felt revolutionary.

 

“Lastly.”

 

Renee gave the audience a moment to process before starting again. The vitality in her eyes was suddenly replaced by a sharp sorrow.

 

“Regarding the comment that my only duty is to support the Grand Duke and raise children… I would like to briefly state my opinion.”

 

Her voice trailed off, beginning to tremble slightly. The memory that surfaced in her mind was her nightmare of a marriage to Gong Jichan.

 

He had proposed to her simply because she was ‘obedient and kind.’ He thought she would be a good ‘helpmate’—an absurd reason that translated to her not being ‘haughty’ like other modern women. Back then, she had thought being told she’d be a good, supportive wife was the highest compliment a woman could receive.

 

Those days spent like a bird in a cage, waiting only for his return… the years when she had been a college student full of dreams had faded so quickly.

 

“I am… more afraid of being praised as a ‘beautiful, obedient, and virtuous woman’ than I am of being criticized for a duchess failing to maintain her dignity. Because that praise…”

 

Renee clenched and unclenched her trembling hands. Suppressing the urge to cry, she forced herself to continue.

 

“Because that is an illusion that will vanish the moment my appearance changes or the moment I stop being obedient.”

 

Following Renee’s words, a silence as deep as the ocean floor filled the hall.

 

She didn’t have the courage to face the ministers. What had she just said? It would have been enough to present her logic. Instead, like a drunkard, she had indulged in her own sentimentality and rambled.

 

What was Ricard thinking? It would be better if he just dismissed it as nonsense—blaming it on the wine she’d downed earlier.

 

The silence stretched on until Ian finally spoke.

 

“I understand what you are saying. Truthfully, I was quite surprised by your remarks.” Ian added calmly, “However, considering the level of public consciousness, it may not be easily accepted.”

 

Renee lowered her head. Was it a failure after all?

 

Suddenly, Ricard’s hand gripped her wrist firmly. Startled, Renee turned to look at him.

 

“Interesting,” Ricard said. Then he continued, “I have reached a decision.”

 

Renee doubted her own ears. Based on the novel’s setting, this was not the time for him to say he had ‘reached a decision.’ Items on the state council agenda were supposed to be passed or rejected only after a consensus among the ministers.

 

Of course, the results usually aligned with Ricard’s will since most ministers bent to his mood. But there were times when a loyalist like Ian stood on the opposite side, or when someone from a powerful family subtly pushed their own interests.

 

In those cases, they would hold heated debates for days. While the kitchen staff brought meals, Ricard wouldn’t touch a bite until the meeting ended—surviving only on wine or small amounts of preserved fruit to avoid starvation. Naturally, no one else dared to eat their fill, leading to piles of cold food stacking up as the hours passed.

 

Though he was set as a tyrant, Ricard Sainer followed formal procedures unless it was an exceptional case. He wasn’t a reckless, spoiled profligate; he was a man who exercised power more effectively by observing the rules.

 

Therefore, for Ricard to declare a decision before the ministers had even properly deliberated was enough to shock everyone.

 

“Uh, Grand Duke…”

 

“Your Grace. My apologies, but many have not yet had the chance to express their opinions.”

 

It was Ian who interrupted Renee, pointing out Ricard’s behavior with a very firm tone. Renee, tense, looked back and forth between Ian and Ricard.

 

She soon realized that Ian’s gaze was fixed on a specific spot. Following his line of sight, Renee’s eyes stopped at her own wrist. Specifically, Ricard’s large hand wrapped around it.

 

“Gasp!”

 

Renee let out a small yelp. She had only just realized he was holding her. She tried to pull her wrist away, but he didn’t budge. She ended up struggling awkwardly with her arm lifted in the air.

 

The reason she was acting as if she’d been surprise-kissed in front of a crowd was the blatant stares from the ministers. Everyone around the massive table was looking directly at their hands.

 

They seemed more shocked than at any point since the luncheon began. Even Ian, who rarely showed emotion, couldn’t look away. It made sense—ever since returning from the battlefield, Ricard had treated her as if she didn’t exist, avoiding even the slightest touch.

 

Of course, he had teased her by touching her waist or grabbing her chin before, but that had always been in private.

 

“Gr-and Duke. Please let go of my hand.”

 

Renee begged through gritted teeth, but Ricard didn’t seem to hear her. He looked as though he wasn’t even conscious of whether he was holding his wife’s wrist or a dry branch.

 

“I said I have reached a decision.” Repeating himself, he added with an unreadable expression, “But before that.”

 

The subtle look on Ricard’s face was replaced by a flash of unmistakable fury. Amidst the suffocating tension, he finally stood up with the thunderous sound of a chair scraping back.

 

“Do you ministers know who this person is?”

 

No one dared to answer. These were seasoned officials; Ricard’s expression and tone alone told them they were in danger.

 

Ricard’s eyes flashed with rage. “I asked. If. You. Know. Who. This. Person. Is.”

 

He gripped her wrist so hard as he spoke that it felt like it might snap.

 

“‘Supporting her husband and raising children is the only thing a woman should do’…”

 

He accurately repeated the crossing-the-line remark that had surfaced during the heated debate. He stared as if he intended to burn a hole through the face of the man who had said it. Under that piercing gaze, the speaker and everyone else looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

 

“I think you ministers have forgotten, so let me remind you,” Ricard continued in a chillingly low voice. “This person is not some common woman found anywhere; she is a member of the Sainer family.”

 

The name Sainer itself carried a weight that settled over the Great Chamber.

 

“Since when did you ministers have the authority to wag your tongues about what the wife of the kingdom’s ruler should do?”

 

This wasn’t a question seeking an answer. It was an expression of cold, threatening anger. Ricard wasn’t just angry for Renee’s sake. Though he had shown sides of himself not seen in the original work lately, his nature hadn’t changed.

 

Ricard wasn’t a romance novel protagonist dealing with a villain for insulting his wife. He was a noble with power second only to the Imperial family, and as a ruler, he was punishing those who dared to challenge his authority.

 

“Kill me, Your Grace!”

 

Finally, the official who had made the comment stepped forward, his face ashen. Ricard practically threw Renee’s wrist aside and stepped toward him.

 

Renee clutched her wrist, stifling a groan.

 

“Yes. Lord Tolson. Tell me in detail. How exactly should my wife support me?”

 

Tolson. It was a name she didn’t recognize. He must have been a minor extra in the original work. Renee watched their backs, unsure of what would happen next.

 

Everyone else was just as tense. Though the ministers were from noble families and were high-ranking officials, none dared to step in.

 

Ricard looked down at the gray-haired subordinate trembling before him. “Actually, to have children, one must first conceive them.”

 

“……”

 

“When do you think would be a good time?”

 

Ricard’s lips curled into a bitter sneer. His words were aimed at Tolson, but Renee was the one who felt the blow.

 

“Do you think my wife, who was sold into a political marriage, would want to have my child?”

 

Renee’s pale skin flushed red with shame. It was as if Ricard had fired an arrow at his arrogant official, but she was the one bleeding from the hit. Ricard’s eyes were so full of rage they seemed out of focus, as if he didn’t even realize what he was saying.

 

She thought she had seen him lose his temper many times before. She was wrong. Ricard was a man who saw nothing else once he was truly enraged. He might actually take a life just for an annoyance.

 

Tolson closed his eyes, appearing ready to accept whatever punishment came. Watching him, Renee shut her eyes tight and then opened them. She gripped her dress and spoke up in a small, sharp voice.

 

“Grand Duke.”

 

Every eye turned to her. Tolson snapped his eyes open. Ricard turned his head slowly, like a scene from a horror movie, his face contorted. “How long do you intend to overstep your bounds?” his eyes seemed to say.

 

Renee continued in a trembling voice. “Please, show mercy to Lord Tolson.”

 

This whole gathering was because of her. If she hadn’t mentioned the strange idea of starting a business, this meeting wouldn’t have happened. Tolson was simply stating what was considered common sense in this world. If something happened to him, she wouldn’t be able to bear the guilt.

 

Ricard’s mouth twisted as if he were about to devour her. He opened his lips to speak.

 

‘That’s the exact face he makes right before he yells at me for interfering.’

 

Yelling would be the least of it. In the month she’d known Ricard, Renee had learned the things he absolutely couldn’t tolerate. First was what was happening now: her overstepping when he was trying to punish a member of the castle staff. Like when Bonnie had been caught helping her and Renee had asked for mercy—Ricard had barked, ‘Did you think I was actually going to kill the girl?’

 

Of course, there were other things he couldn’t stand: Lying. Schemeing transparently. Refusing to admit a mistake. Daring to be arrogant toward him, the ruler. On the flip side, groveling too much or being sycophantic. Keeping quiet when asked a question. Talking back.

 

‘Wait. He’s just a total sociopath, isn’t he?’

 

The sudden realization startled her, but Renee quickly nodded to herself. Ricard Sainer in <The Sickly Duchess Plans to Kill Her Husband> was undeniably a sociopath!

 

‘Who can I blame? I’m the one who created him!’

 

Renee, wearing a look of sudden enlightenment, locked eyes with Ricard. She flinched as if he’d read her mind.

 

“What useless thoughts are you having now?” his narrowing eyes seemed to ask.

 

Renee looked down with an awkward smile. Ricard rolled his tongue inside his mouth as if itching to scold her. But contrary to her fears, Ricard remained silent instead of erupting. He simply let out a dissatisfied grunt.

 

Looking at Ricard, who was scowling as he glanced between her and the ministers, Renee suddenly realized why he was staying quiet. He was currently rebuking the ministers for insulting his wife and challenging the Sainer family’s authority. If he were to scold her in front of them now, he would be contradicting his own logic.

 

“Lord Tolson. Return to your seat.”

 

Tolson and everyone else looked at Ricard in shock.

 

“Since my wife is begging for mercy with such a desperate face, I find I cannot refuse.”

 

Having said that, Ricard smirked. Whether he was being sarcastic or not, Renee let out a sigh of relief.

 

Tolson bowed repeatedly as he returned to his seat. Ricard straightened his posture and faced the crowd.

 

“The introduction has gone on far too long. I believe you all already know what I mean when I say I have reached a decision.”

 

Every nerve in the room was focused on his next words.

 

“As of today, all those in the relevant departments are to begin preparations for Reneezmia Dainis’ business.”

 

A small gasp erupted from somewhere. Renee, too, couldn’t hide her surprise. She had temporarily forgotten his earlier declaration, overwhelmed by the feeling of walking on thin ice.

 

Ricard continued firmly. “I hope no one mistakes my decision for one based on personal sentiment. I am the ruler of Hebaron, and it is my duty to make decisions that benefit the nation.”

 

This last part was even more shocking to Renee. She had secretly doubted his true reason for letting her do business. In the garden after her escape from the Forest of Illusions, he had said he’d allow it because ‘otherwise she might run away again or ask for a divorce.’

 

But she had suspected that was just a surface-level excuse. After all, even if she won a divorce or escaped the castle, it wouldn’t really hurt him.

 

Yet here he was, saying he judged her business would benefit the country. And he’d shown no reaction while listening to her and the other supporters.

 

“While both sides have valid points, I find the argument for returning business profits to the treasury for citizen relief to be the most persuasive.”

 

Renee’s eyes went wide. The argument about using profits for the treasury—that was undeniably her point!

 

‘…He found my words persuasive? Is he actually saying that!’

 

She couldn’t believe it. Even though he’d saved her in the forest at his own expense, he usually looked down on her. She felt a lump in her throat from the sheer emotion.

 

“Of course, for now, it should be viewed as little more than a pipe dream. Since it comes from someone with not a shred of business knowledge.”

 

The emotion vanished instantly. Her burgeoning tears retreated.

 

“Therefore, the key will be to refine these ideas. Since my wife cannot possibly have any common sense regarding the economy or kingdom politics, Minister of Finance Gray must put in the effort.”

 

‘“Not a shred of knowledge.” “No common sense.” It’s a real talent to look someone in the eye and insult them so elegantly.’

 

Even though that ‘knowledge’ and ‘common sense’ came from her, the author, she had to be satisfied for now that her proposal was accepted.

 

Ian nodded deeply. “If it is the Grand Duke’s command, I shall do my best.” Though he had led the opposition, he seemed to have accepted the decision. Ricard nodded with satisfaction.

 

“Since today’s agenda was whether my wife could start a business, let us conclude the meeting. Specific matters will be discussed in due time.”

 

With Ricard’s closing remarks, the council meeting ended. Contrary to the ministers’ expectations that it might last days, it was still afternoon.

 

Those who had supported the idea looked elated. Rayden Brick, the ‘refreshing’ character of the original work, was smiling broadly. Meanwhile, the opposition mostly seemed to accept the outcome. Since Ian had committed to doing his best, the others followed suit. Even those who spoke their minds for the sake of the kingdom wouldn’t oppose a final decision from Ricard.

 

As people began to mingle and pack up, Ian sent a glance toward Renee—an look that was hard to pin down: curiosity, wariness, or something else entirely.

 

“You may return, My Lady. I will stay to speak with the officials in charge of business-related matters.”

 

“Yes, I understand.”

 

As she lifted her skirt to curtsy, someone from the end of the table approached Ricard. Tawny curly hair, eyes that slanted upward, a thick nose, and a dark red mole on the lower lip.

 

‘Galael Haksen.

 

He was the high-ranking official overseeing land affairs and the ‘villain’ of the original work. Renee’s face clouded with wariness. Her light green eyes wavered. Galael didn’t look away; he stared directly at her with a peculiar expression, as if reading her mind.

 

‘What’s with that creepy look?’

 

Facing the villain she had only ever described in text was a surreal experience. Her brow furrowed instinctively. In the original story, Reneezmia died locked in her room, so she never crossed paths with Galael. But things were different now. Simply standing here in the council chamber was a departure. She had no idea what he might do to torment her outside the plot. There was only one answer.

 

‘I should get out of here. I need to avoid him as much as possible.’

 

Renee gave Galael a belated nod and turned to leave.

 

“My Lady.”

 

His voice stopped her.

 

‘A raspy, skin-crawling sound like a sharp object scratching rusted iron.’

 

That was how she had described it in her book. Hearing it in person was even more chilling. Renee controlled her expression and slowly turned back.

 

“Yes, Lord Haksen.”

 

“Do you have something to say to me?” He asked with a smile, but his words were incredibly rude and challenging. Renee’s face stiffened. Only then did Galael add, “Ah. My greetings are late. It is a pleasure to meet you, My Lady. If I seemed rude, I apologize.”

 

He feigned politeness, but his long, slanted eyes were clearly sizing her up.

 

“Not at all. I am glad to meet you. I didn’t have anything specific to say; our eyes just happened to meet as I was about to greet you.”

 

“I see. More importantly, I didn’t realize you knew my name.”

 

“…Pardon?”

 

“This is the first time we have formally greeted each other, after all.”

 

Renee couldn’t hide her panic. Looking back, he hadn’t spoken once during the meeting. His name had never been called. And since he hadn’t introduced himself just now, she shouldn’t have known it. Not unless she was the author who already knew every character.

 

‘A mistake.’

 

What should she say? Looking into Galael’s eyes, filled with blatant suspicion, her mind went blank.

 

“Well. It isn’t strange for the mistress of the kingdom to know the names and families of the major officials.” Galael answered his own question for her and offered another sly smile.

 

Renee tried to look as calm as possible. “It’s embarrassing to be called the mistress of the kingdom, as I have done nothing for it yet. I know your name because, after it was decided I would attend today’s council, I made it a point to memorize the titles, families, and names of the ministers here.”

 

Having delivered a logical explanation, Renee smiled. Galael squinted and was silent for a long moment before suddenly looking back. He was checking on Ricard and the other officials standing a distance away. Once he confirmed no one was paying attention, he spoke.

 

“Nothing for the kingdom? I suspected the rumors about you never leaving your bedroom were false.”

 

“There were such rumors about me?”

 

“Oh—you didn’t know?” One corner of Galael’s mouth curled up. “The citizens of Hebaron call you the ‘Pale Rose of October.’ A woman of unparalleled beauty who has withered past her summer prime, and thus, sadly, no one seeks her out.”

 

The Pale Rose of October. That was Reneezmia’s nickname in the original work. A woman with brilliant rose-colored hair and beautiful features, but a pale, sickly wife of the ruler who was withering away from lack of love. It was more a slur than a nickname. Galael’s intent in saying it out loud was clear.

 

‘He’s trying to belittle and mock me.’

 

“Seeing you in person, the term doesn’t suit you at all. You are far too beautiful to be called a pale, out-of-season flower.”

 

Galael’s eyes swept over Renee, lingering briefly on her chest visible above the neckline of her dress. It was a look of blatant harassment. If this were a live serialization, the comments would be flooded with insults for Galael.

 

“Anyway, regarding your desire to do business… how shall I put it…”

 

“…I’m sure it was quite a surprise…”

 

“No. Not a surprise. More like… interesting?” Galael cut her off and flicked his long tongue out to lick his lips.

 

‘Ugh.’

 

After passing through wariness, panic, and displeasure, she now felt sheer disgust. Behind Galael, Ricard—who had been talking to Ian—suddenly stopped and looked up. He scanned the room and locked eyes with Renee, squinting as if trying to figure out who she was talking to.

 

Galael seemed to sense what was happening behind him just by the change in Renee’s expression.

 

“At any rate, since the decision to do business has been made, and I am the one in charge of the kingdom’s land affairs, I shall see to it that you find a spot in the best part of Pomfritz Square.”

 

It was a closing remark that didn’t fit the conversation at all. Having unilaterally ended the talk, he bowed deeply, feigning the role of a polite subordinate.

 

Ricard watched Galael’s back, then looked away with an indifferent expression. Seeing him return to his conversation with Ian made Renee feel indignant. “This man was just insulting and harassing me!” she wanted to tattle.

 

“Thank you, Lord Haksen. I shall be going then.”

 

But what could she do? It was uncertain if Ricard would even take her side if she did tell him. With a bitter feeling, Renee offered a greeting and walked out of the hall with a heavy step.

 

 

***

 

 

Meanwhile, the Sainer Castle was thrown into an uproar by the shocking news that the State Council agenda had passed. From high-ranking officials who hadn’t attended the meeting to nobles working in various departments; from the kitchens and the laundry to the stables and the maids’ quarters—Reneezmia’s name was on everyone’s lips.

 

No matter how high a castle wall is, there is no wall that rumors cannot leap. The news that the woman once seen as nothing more than a ‘pitiful lady sold into a political marriage to a tyrant’ was starting a business spread rapidly among the citizens of the Hebaron Kingdom.

 

The citizens were dying of curiosity about what the Grand Duchess planned to sell. However, the majority viewed it with a cold, judgmental eye.

 

There were even ghoulish rumors surrounding Renee’s health. Some said her lung disease had worsened beyond hope and that she was nearing death; others claimed the Grand Ducal family was merely using her name to accumulate massive business profits, only to follow through with legal divorce proceedings once she passed away.

 

As winter deepened, white snow piled up across the kingdom. Unlike the loud commotion Renee’s news caused, the actual work required for the business proceeded with incredible speed and silence.

 

Much of this was thanks to Ricard’s influence—or perhaps his temperament. He was a leader with the impatient nature of an unbridled racehorse, and his subordinates, well aware of his fiery disposition, struggled in their respective positions to avoid the lightning of his wrath. Large-scale meetings were held in rapid succession, and the lights in the Main Hall of the Great Chamber stayed lit until late into the night.

 

The location for the shop was a spot finally approved by Galael Haksen: just north of the center of Pomfritz Square, bordering the river. It was a transportation hub with high foot traffic.

 

The reason it was chosen over three or four other candidates was the presence of an old, abandoned building. Building from scratch would have put too much pressure on the timeline.

 

“It was a building formerly used as a temple, and since it was vacated, it has been frequented by street artists and children. Since it wasn’t a residential space, there’s quite a bit of repair work to do.”

 

Today, an exceptionally cold day, the fifth meeting was in full swing. Marquis Jason Valond, who oversaw construction-related matters, continued his explanation while pointing to various parts of a large parchment depicting the building’s blueprints.

 

Renee nodded diligently, but in truth, she couldn’t focus at all. Her turn was coming up the moment Marquis Valond finished.

 

“…Thus, the restoration work is expected to be completed by next Monday afternoon. Under the direction of the kingdom’s most skilled bricklayers, ironsmiths, and carpenters, dozens of laborers are working together, so we anticipate no major issues. I will discuss further details as they progress.”

 

Marquis Valond returned to his seat after confirming there were no more questions.

 

Renee swallowed hard, her throat dry. She wiped her palms against her light blue velvet dress over and over again.

 

“Well done, Lord Valond. Next, it is time to finalize the business items. My Lady, please step forward.”

 

Ian, presiding over today’s meeting in place of Ricard—who was away on external business—called her name.

 

‘Here it comes. Oh no!’

 

Renee carefully removed her shimmering white silk cloak and slowly stood up.

 

Rustle, rustle. The sound of her dress hem brushing against the floor echoed through the hall. Every eye turned toward her as she stepped forward cautiously.

 

Throughout the process, Renee had consistently insisted on selling coffee and a few desserts. And without exception, every single official had expressed opposition.

 

Their reasoning was that nobles and wealthy citizens already drank coffee in their own homes. They simply couldn’t grasp the concept of paying for coffee brewed at a shop.

 

She had tried to subtly persuade the “refreshing” character of the original work, Minister of Foreign Affairs Rayden, but even he only offered a troubled smile and showed hesitation.

 

“Is your intention to sell coffee still unchanged, My Lady?” Ian asked.

 

Renee nodded with resolve. “Yes. I want to sell coffee.”

 

‘To be precise, it’s iced lattes, cafe mochas, hazelnut lattes, cinnamon lattes, and so on.’

 

If the people here, who thought bitter hot coffee was all there was, tasted it even once, their eyes would pop out—and they’d probably ruin their health with liquid fructose addiction! It was a pity, but she wasn’t at the stage to mention that yet. If they were opposing even the basic idea of selling coffee, how could she propose anything more?

 

“I apologize for repeatedly expressing opposition, My Lady,” Ian continued, his face showing no sign of apology. “But if you serve coffee and desserts to those who visit the shop, how is that essentially different from a social gathering hosted by Your Ladyship? It is a matter that is naturally expected to be free; charging for it would not only look poor but would be felt as unreasonable.”

 

Ian Gray. Truly, he was someone who spoke nothing but the truth, to an annoying degree.

 

The moment he finished, someone else raised their hand to speak.

 

“I entirely agree with Lord Gray. Furthermore, coffee has become so popularized lately that even commoners are said to brew coffee in teapots at home for tea time.”

 

‘Is that so?’ Renee’s eyebrows began to droop at the news of coffee’s popularization, which had apparently happened without her, the author’s, knowledge.

 

“Nobles might pay out of curiosity or vanity, but would commoners who work for their daily bread really pay for coffee? Well, it’s only natural that our Lady wouldn’t be well-versed in how the world works, so it’s understandable that you wouldn’t know.”

 

This was the moment she truly felt Ricard’s absence. When he wasn’t around, such blatant dismissive remarks came flying out.

 

No. Regardless of the disrespect, that wasn’t the main problem.

 

‘High-ranking officials, then and now, are just so narrow-minded. There’s no opening to get through!’

 

Standing before these middle-aged officials who felt like a massive wall, she felt like she was going to burst from frustration.

 

Under the bombardment of continuous opposition, Renee quickly began to feel battered. She had a mountain of things she wanted to say, but her mouth only hung open.

 

‘Sure, you all talk a good game. You can drink coffee at home. Maxwell House, Kanu—I used to drink mix coffee at home every day too! But do you know the happiness of taking a laptop to a cafe, ordering coffee and cake, and just killing time on your phone? Do you!’

 

…But she couldn’t exactly say that.

 

During the break, Renee sat slumped in her chair, unable to offer a single word of rebuttal, like a mute who had eaten honey.

 

Tatisha, who had been waiting outside the door, walked into the hall with a small hand mirror and makeup tools to check Renee’s appearance.

 

You’re on the verge of falling in battle again today, aren’t you? Her eyes seemed to say.

 

Tatisha, who was dabbing pale powder onto Renee’s cheeks—which were flushed with a sense of failure—suddenly stopped her movements. When Renee tried to stand, thinking the touch-up was over, Tatisha gently pressed her down.

 

She glanced around. After confirming no one in the hall was watching, she lowered her voice.

 

“My Lady.”

 

“Yes. Do you have something to say, Tatisha?”

 

“Actually, I was secretly eavesdropping through the gap in the door.”

 

“If you’re trying to comfort me, it’s fine. It usually just makes me sadder when someone says it’s okay.”

 

“No, My Lady.”

 

“Actually, I’m already sad. I couldn’t say a single word like a fool, and you had to see me in this pathetic state.”

 

“My Lady—!”

 

Tatisha, her voice rising slightly in frustration, quickly looked around again. Then, in an even more secretive tone, she continued.

 

“That drink you developed. The one where you mix goat’s milk with coffee and chill it.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“It’s already a sensation among the maids, kitchen staff, and everyone working in the castle, you know?”

 

“Well, I think I heard something about that. But what of it?”

 

“I think the ministers are only opposing it because they’ve never tasted it. So, why not let them try it for themselves?”

 

Ding! It felt like a light bulb went off in her head.

 

Yes. No matter how narrow-minded these middle-aged and elderly men from hundreds of years ago were, taste buds are universal regardless of age, gender, or nationality! She felt like hugging Tatisha and showering her with kisses.

 

 

***

 

 

And so, a spectacle immediately unfolded within the Main Hall of the Great Chamber.

 

The various documents, books, and writing utensils that had been scattered haphazardly across the long table were all pushed to one side. The empty space was filled with dozens of glass cups brought in haste from the kitchen at Renee’s request, steaming bitter coffee, and a large glass jar filled with goat’s milk.

 

It was a sight never before seen in the history of Sainer Castle. The officials simply watched Renee’s actions, their faces showing they had no idea how to process this bizarre situation.

 

Renee clenched and unclenched her hands, which were trembling with nerves. She slowly scanned the room. There were eighteen people in total participating in today’s meeting. One by one, eighteen glass cups were filled with hot coffee.

 

After setting down the teapot, Renee picked up the jar of goat’s milk.

 

‘I never thought my part-time experience at a cafe would be used like this.’

 

She knew the right ratio of espresso to milk by heart. As she poured the goat’s milk into the coffee, the eyes, noses, and mouths of the watching officials expanded in every direction.

 

Renee tried to ignore their horrified expressions. She focused solely on making the drinks.

 

If she’d had her way, she would have filled the glasses with solid ice cubes, but that was just greed. In an era where iced drinks didn’t even exist, she needed to take it one step at a time.

 

‘I am the best barista who will conquer this world with the taste of coffee. I will lead the way to the joy of gulping down iced americanos and yogurt smoothies under the midsummer sun!’

 

In her attempt to manage her nerves, Renee became a bit overly immersed, her eyes burning with passion as she made the eighteen lattes one after another.

 

The sleeves of her light blue silk dress fluttered as she moved. It was still early afternoon. Winter sunlight poured through the large windows of the Main Hall.

 

The soft fabric covering her body shimmered. Every time she bowed and lifted her head, the frill decorations on her chest fluttered like a fish’s tail.

 

The thin, white goat’s milk mixed into the black coffee, creating swirling patterns. Wisps of steam rose from the cups.

 

It was a strangely captivating sight. The officials, who had initially watched her as if she were a eccentric playing with her food, began to focus one by one, as if mesmerized by her movements.

 

Finally, after filling the last cup, Renee slowly straightened her back. She carefully set the goat’s milk jar at the end of the table and moved to the center.

 

“It is ready.”

 

She extended one hand in invitation. Her pale, slender fingertips were trembling slightly.

 

“Please, try it.”

 

She added with a desperate heart, but no one stepped forward. Unless she designated a specific person, the eighteen lattes would simply grow cold without touching anyone’s lips.

 

‘Who should I offer it to first to lead the situation in my favor? Who……’

 

Renee looked at the faces of the officials one by one. Her gaze stopped on a middle-aged man with a large build and tawny curly hair.

 

Prominent features and healthy, slightly oily light-brown skin. Thick hands and fingers that looked like plump sausages. And most notably, a mustache that curled as if the ends had been singed by fire.

 

Ralph Frighton. He was a character who provided the comic relief in <The Sickly Duchess Plans to Kill Her Husband> and was, in name and deed, a glutton.

 

More accurately, he was a gourmet who would be second to none. Whenever he wasn’t working, he spent his time traveling to neighboring kingdoms by boat, considering it his life’s pleasure to taste the most famous food, wine, coffee, and desserts from various regions.

 

Because of this, whenever officials went out for free time or nobles traveled to other kingdoms, they would seek him out to ask where they could enjoy the best food in that area.

 

In fact, among the officials who clearly hesitated before the “bizarre” concoction, Ralph was the only one whose eyes sparkled with curiosity.

 

‘He will surely find it delicious without prejudice.’

 

“Lord Frighton. Would you like to try it?”

 

At the sudden mention of his name, Ralph flinched and raised his eyebrows high. Then, with a troubled laugh, he stepped forward.

 

“Haha. Well, well. Since it is a drink offered by Your Ladyship, how could I possibly refuse?”

 

After a moment’s hesitation, he reached out and picked up a cup from the end of the table.

 

His brow twitched as he held the cup close to his eyes. Up close, it didn’t seem very appetizing.

 

“This is quite awkward. To think you’d sell this mysterious thing… It might sound arrogant, but I know a thing or two about coffee. Good coffee is made by steeping and brewing roasted beans for a long time until it reaches a dark, almost black color.”

 

Renee suddenly felt like a novice cook having her food judged by a food critic. He turned the cup this way and that as he spoke.

 

“So, someone who knows coffee can tell the taste by the color alone, even before smelling or tasting it. But this color… it’s quite… It looks a bit like an infant’s stool, and the smell is also…”

 

While Ralph was busy delivering a critique he’d seemingly been waiting to give, he put his nose to the glass and sniffed.

 

“……It’s good?”

 

At the words that burst out of his mouth, Renee clenched her hands tight.

 

The officials standing behind Ralph exchanged surprised looks. Ralph himself seemed surprised by his own words and put his nose to the cup again.

 

“Why does this smell so good? You’ve ruined the flavor of the coffee by mixing in animal milk, so how could this, no……”

 

Muttering incoherently to himself, he immediately tilted the cup and gulped down the coffee. His Adam’s apple moved rhythmically.

 

Drinking faster and faster, Ralph quickly emptied the cup, then closed his eyes while holding the empty vessel. Renee felt as if her throat was parched to the point of burning.

 

The officials gradually moved closer behind Ralph, who was savoring the taste with a low groan. They were all waiting for his evaluation with expressions of doubt mixed with curiosity.

 

Snap. Ralph finally opened his eyes.

 

“My Lady.”

 

Gulp—. Renee was so nervous that the sound of her swallowing felt like thunder in her ears.

 

“This might be out of line, but how about becoming business partners with me?”

 

“……Pardon?”

 

When Renee asked back, Ralph clenched both fists and stepped closer.

 

“Out of all the coffee I’ve ever had in my life—no, out of everything that has ever gone down this throat of mine—this is the most flavorful, rich, and mysterious-tasting drink, My Lady!”