Chapter 122
Chapter 122: Just Here for Business (3)
“You’re sending it to the servants, not the nobles?”
“Yeah, write ‘Baron Penris’ in big letters.”
“Oh… I see. Understood.”
Claude nodded with a strange expression.
Then Belinda, who had been watching them with suspicion, interjected.
“What’s going on? Can you explain it to me? Did the Chief Officer understand? You’re not pretending to know when you don’t, are you?”
Claude immediately bristled at her blatant disregard.
“What nonsense! As the top graduate of Seyron Academy, managing all the affairs of the territory, I can’t possibly be that stupid!”
“Hmph, says the one who gets bullied by the Young Master every day.”
“That’s because the Lord is an unconventional person!”
Claude hit his chest in frustration.
But while everyone, including Belinda, seemed to ignore Claude, they all stared at Ghislaine intently.
Ghislaine explained in a casual tone.
“Belinda was happy when I first gave her cosmetics. She even asked what brand it was, worried it might be expensive.”
“Th-That’s true.”
“But then why did you reject it later?”
“Naturally, because you said the Young Master made it himself. He’s never learned such things… Ah, I see now!”
Belinda finally understood Ghislaine’s point and was impressed.
The people of Castle Penris knew he was ignorant in fields like pharmacology or alchemy. So they couldn’t believe he made the cosmetics.
But those who lived in the capital were different.
“Among the servants, there might be one or two who would believe just because it has a noble’s name on it.”
“These folks don’t know who the Young Master is.”
“Exactly.”
Not everyone who received cosmetics would use them, but if even one person found it effective, rumors would spread quickly, just like in the Territory of Penris.
The key figure of the first cosmetic test, Gillian, nodded seriously.
“Indeed, there’s wisdom in catching the horse before catching the knight. Targeting the easier-to-reach people first, truly a strategy worthy of the Lord.”
“…Not that there was any deep meaning behind it, but in the end, it’s not wrong.”
Ghislaine awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck.
“Thinking back, it’s obvious advice, but why didn’t I think of that? The person most often around the servants is me.”
Belinda grumbled in disappointment. Ghislaine chuckled lightly.
“That’s because you don’t trust me. That’s why I dislike explaining everything. Even if I say it, you wouldn’t believe me.”
“….”
With a piercing remark hitting home, everyone fell silent.
Claude clicked his tongue, looking around at the awkward expressions of others.
“Tsk tsk tsk, how can those who should protect the Lord’s interests be so distrustful? How will the territory function like this? Don’t act like Alfoy.”
“….”
Hearing such words from none other than the most doubtful one made everyone feel quite heated.
However, since only Claude grasped the intention before Ghislaine could explain, rebutting was difficult.
As people glared, Claude pointed to his temple with two fingers.
“Do you feel the difference in intellect…?”
A sense of malice arose among the crowd.
Claude pretended not to notice and turned away.
“The products will be nicely packaged and sent to the nobles.”
“Right. No need to cater to every noble; prioritize those who are doing well.”
“Then what should we send to the nobles? We can’t just not send anything.”
Ignoring the nobles and sending gifts only to the servants would be ridiculous.
It was essential to give at least something to maintain appearances.
After pondering briefly, Ghislaine casually answered.
“Since we’re sending a package to greet them in the capital, let’s just buy a Mandragora root and send that.”
“…A Mandragora root?”
“Yes. No need to send something fancy, right? Just a note saying my name and that our merchant group sent cosmetics. Send the cheapest one.”
Claude scratched his head, looking troubled.
While Mandragora roots were famous as tonics, they weren’t exactly gift-worthy for the nobles in the capital.
Even if they didn’t need to win noble favorites… there was concern about what rumors might circulate behind their backs.
“Well, I guess there’s no helping it. Alright then. What should I write in the letter? Anything you want me to say?”
“I arrive in the capital.”
“…I’ll write it well and send it.”
Ghislaine clicked her tongue in response.
“Yeah, that much you should be able to handle now. Should I really come up with every line of the letter?”
“I said I understand.”
Though Claude grumbled, he meticulously prepared the letter and gift.
After sending it off, there wasn’t much to do but wait for a response.
While the group, unable to bear the boredom, wandered the capital looking for tasty spots, Ghislaine stayed behind in the mansion, lost in thought.
‘It should be starting to show results soon.’
Others assumed Ghislaine had just come to sell cosmetics and make money.
While not entirely wrong, Ghislaine’s goal was about more than just money.
‘How long will it take…?’
Caw! Caw!
Ghislaine scattered feed toward the crows. The crows in the garden fluttered about, noisy in their rush to eat the feed she had thrown.
*
Count Ailzbur is one of the powerful figures in the capital.
While he didn’t hold an especially high position or govern a large territory, his family’s long-standing ties to many noble houses gave him significant political influence.
The wealth, businesses, and connections inherited from his ancestors were substantial support for him.
Countless people sought to curry favor by sending him gifts, to the point he had to set aside time to organize a list.
“Next is… Baron Penris?”
“Yes, he sent a greeting since he says he’s visiting the capital for the first time.”
“Hmm, I see.”
Count Ailzbur nodded indifferently and opened the letter.
However, its contents were anything but ordinary.
“Oh….”
Each line caught his attention.
The praise was so lavish, he felt as if he were the Emperor himself.
“Wow, the writing skills of the scribe on my staff are exceptional. Or did he write it himself? Regardless, what a wonderful piece! How admirable, ha ha ha.”
At this point, he couldn’t help but be curious about what kind of gift it might be.
Given the respect and etiquette shown as if addressing an imperial majesty, the gift was bound to be something special.
With a face full of expectation, he urged his servant.
“Quickly, open it up!”
Not knowing what was inside, he couldn’t open it himself.
From a short distance away, the servant carefully opened the wooden box.
“Uh?”
Those nearby peered into the box, their expressions turning incredulous.
Inside the dark box lay a single dried Mandragora root, resting meekly.
“…Mandragora? Is that all?”
“Y-Yes. Just this one.”
Count Ailzbur, flustered, waved his hand.
“Bring it over. Let me see that.”
He picked up the Mandragora root and inspected it closely. He even shook the empty box.
But no matter how much he checked, that was all there was.
“Blast it! A loudmouth with an empty purse! Remember this name! This is why broke country folk can’t be trusted!”
Count Ailzbur threw the Mandragora root back into the box and got up from his seat.
He planned to visit a feast or somewhere to share today’s events and gossip.
Before he could leave, the butler hurried after him.
“What should we do about the gift the Baron sent to the servants?”
“What? What is it? Did he send some weeds or something?”
“He says it’s a beauty cream made by the merchant group the Baron manages.”
Count Ailzbur scoffed.
What kind of high-end product could a country merchant group produce?
Given it was for the servants, it was surely some cheap stuff made from fruit peels or something.
“A commoner’s cosmetic? Just distribute it as you see fit. If you want to toss it, go ahead. Tell them they can take it if they need it. The butler can use it.”
“Thank you!”
The butler brightened and smiled. While it was trash to the Count, even a single Mandragora root was a precious item for commoners.
Count Ailzbur clicked his tongue several times before storming out.
Thus, the cosmetics Ghislaine sent found their way to the servants working at Ailzbur’s mansion.
The containers of the cosmetics were engraved with the name of Baron Penris and the merchant group’s emblem.
Most, for the same reasons as Count Ailzbur, viewed them with suspicion and did not use them.
However, a few were intrigued by the prominently engraved noble’s name and gradually began to try them out.
Just as Ghislaine had hoped.
About ten days later, while diligently applying makeup, Meriel, Count Ailzbur’s wife, grumbled with a sulky expression.
“It’s just not going on well today.”
The powder she applied felt unusually loose on her face today.
“Time waits for no one. I don’t want to age.”
Each passing day, her skin seemed to worsen.
Despite eating well and buying expensive beauty products to care for her skin, the effectiveness was declining.
Now, entering middle age, she felt a renewed sense of regret and resentment.
“You’re still beautiful, as you are now.”
Meriel looked at herself in the mirror, feeling rueful.
Even now, she would be ranked among the top beauties in the kingdom.
In her youth, she had received countless marriage proposals from many noble heirs. The knights eager to court Lady Meriel were too many to count.
Though she had grown older, many still praised her beauty. She was among the leading noblewomen setting trends in the kingdom.
However, with age came skin that lacked elasticity and increasing wrinkles, which bothered her greatly.
“In my youth, I shone even without makeup… Sigh…”
As she heavily applied makeup to cover wrinkles, her skin only felt more taut.
“Maybe I should’ve sought an easier method of mana circulation? They say it helps maintain youth.”
A pity, but ultimately unavoidable. No one could elude the passage of time.
Meriel clicked her tongue inwardly as she stepped out of the room.
“Is everything ready? Let’s leave now without delay.”
Today, she had decided to attend a salon after a long while.
That was why Meriel had put in such effort into her appearance since morning.
An aristocratic social gathering was not just a mere tea party; it was akin to war.
They scrutinized each other’s attire, makeup, and even the jewelry down to the size of their nails, comparing it all against themselves.
Meriel had never lost a battle in such a war.
Just as she was about to leave the mansion, seeing off by her maids, Meriel suddenly sensed a strange discomfort and paused.
‘What is it?’
She swept her gaze over the maids lined up along the corridor.
Soon, Meriel realized the source of the odd discomfort.
‘Their skin…’
Most looked no different than usual. How much can maids, who cannot manage themselves like the nobles, improve their skin?
Yet, a few had skin that appeared noticeably better.
Typically, one would not notice variations in skin elasticity unless looked at closely, but Meriel couldn’t help but notice.
She inspected the faces of the maids one by one. Their skin glowed with moisture.
They were distinct from other maids, whose faces had dulled with exhaustion.
Meriel approached the maid with the most glistening skin.
“You.”
The pointed-out maid lowered her head, looking flustered.
“Tell me what you’ve been eating recently, how you washed, how much you slept, and if there’s any other reason you think is affecting your skin.”
Meriel, who always maintained a graceful and kind demeanor toward her subordinates, now bore a fierce expression as if she had become a different person.
