Chapter 69
Chapter 69
Creak─.
The heavy wheels finally fell silent, and the swaying carriage came to a gentle stop.
A small window beside the coachman's seat clicked open, and a cautious voice drifted in.
"We have arrived."
"Open the door."
At the authoritative reply, the coachman hurried down and flung open the carriage door, and Viscountess Müller stepped out with graceful poise.
Clink.
She lightly brushed the hem of her leather uniform and pressed a silver coin into the coachman's hand.
"You worked hard."
"……Thank you."
The coachman did not bow and grin as he usually did; instead, he lowered his head with a stiff expression, clutching the silver coin tightly.
Even a coachman driving the carriage could instinctively tell how important a place his lady was about to enter.
Being generous to the people around her before an important wager.
It was a kind of routine, a jinx she had kept all her life as both an investor and a merchant.
Viscountess Müller thought as she approached the grand front gate of the Farne manor.
'Until just yesterday, the situation had been at its absolute worst.'
And in a complete mess at that.
The enormous project called 'securing influence over the saintess' had to be handled with the utmost secrecy and care.
It had turned into an urgent situation that needed to be cleaned up fast when the Hasty Potion, an explosive that hit the Church right where it hurt, went off.
'I was confident I could handle it.'
To be honest, the calculation had been that even Viscountess Müller would have to scatter so much money around that it would make her stomach ache.
The cost and trouble of silencing the Church's high-ranking officials, cutting off loose ends, and diverting attention.
And yet today, that hopeless situation had blown wide open as if it had all been a lie.
Of course, to call it 'opened up' was a stretch, since the adorable new disciple she had just taken in had had both thighs turned into a truly pitiful mess.
If we set aside personal feelings entirely and look only at the situation itself.
'It was more like the whole board had been shaken.'
In other words, the crisis had turned into the perfect opportunity.
"Maybe she's been favored by the Goddess of Luck or something."
She wasn't talking about herself.
She was talking about that cheeky, inscrutable young man who was probably taking care of the cute pink puppy in his laboratory right now.
Knock, knock.
Viscountess Müller lightly knocked on the door of the Farne manor.
Not long after, the door opened without a sound, and an old butler, seasoned by years, appeared.
"Welcome, Viscountess Müller."
"I came to see Court Earl Corinth."
* * *
The reception room of the Farne manor.
A space with no flashy decorations, only heavy solid wood and chilly air.
The presence of the man seated at the center weighed heavily on the room's atmosphere.
"I see."
After hearing all of Viscountess Müller's explanation, Court Earl Corinth's reply was utterly flat.
There was no rise or fall in his tone, and no change in expression.
"You're less surprised than I expected, Court Earl."
"I'd already anticipated it to some extent."
But Viscountess Müller could guess just how quickly and viciously calculations were running beneath that cold, expressionless face.
Corinth del Farne.
Last time, she had come about Cassian taking on a disciple and seen an unexpected side of him, but in fact the cold face before her now was the true Court Earl Corinth known to the capital's nobility.
That man was someone who stood at the very top of all the nobles in the capital and handled them like chess pieces with that unreadable face.
He would be no different right now.
"So, Viscountess, do you want to save your pitiful disciple?"
Corinth's deep, low voice resonated through the reception room.
"Half of that is the reason, but the other half is practical gain."
"Practical gain, huh."
Viscountess Müller replied without a trace of hesitation.
"By practicality, you don't just mean brushing aside the troublesome fact that the Hasty Potion was used however it pleased, do you?"
Corinth narrowed his eyes as he rested his chin on his clasped hands.
"Can I take that to mean you want to exert blatant influence over the Church?"
"By all means. I'm a merchant to the bone."
Viscountess Müller smiled elegantly.
"I'm not someone who doesn't know the value of moral righteousness."
"……."
"To deny even the fact that I instinctively do the math in every decision I make would be lying to myself. If I've spent money, isn't it only natural to extract more profit than that?"
Her eyes flashed with greed and confidence.
"If, besides me, some other fellow with the title of merchant were to stand before the Court Earl and spout polished nonsense like 'There are values more important than money,'"
"……."
"Then it's one of two things."
"Go on."
"They're either a hypocrite stuffed full of lies, or a fool with no merchant's worth at all."
Pfft.
A faint, airy chuckle escaped the corner of Corinth's lips, which had remained ice-cold the entire time.
Viscountess Müller knew full well that it meant the fearsome head of the Intelligence Bureau had acknowledged the other party as an equal negotiating partner.
"I'll keep that in mind."
They were discussing an issue that might shake the very foundation of the Empire, something that required the utmost caution.
This was a place where a merchant should, by rights, keep her reason completely intact.
And yet Viscountess Müller, looking at Court Earl Corinth's face as he lightly curled the corners of his mouth while saying he'd keep it in mind, found herself momentarily slipping into improper stray thoughts.
'I think I get it.'
Why on earth.
had so many women in the past social circles fallen head over heels for this taciturn man?
As a child, Viscountess Müller hadn't understood it.
'He's handsome, though.'
It was true that he had strong, well-defined features and was quite a handsome man without looking rough.
But objectively speaking, there were five or six dazzling beauties in the capital every generation who were just as thoroughly groomed from head to toe as this man.
And none of those dazzling beauties enjoyed the devilish popularity that had women throwing themselves at Court Earl Corinth in his prime despite his having a fiancée.
Noble ladies weren't fools, and they were the sort of people obsessed with reading the room and managing their image.
For women like that to cling to a man to the point where they couldn't help themselves, even as their reputations were being shredded and the baggage that would keep hindering their marriage prospects kept piling up, took more than ordinary charm.
And now.
Viscountess Müller felt that she was starting to understand what the man's charm was.
Maybe it was his aura of mystery.
'I can't tell what he's thinking inside at all.'
A cool, expressionless face that didn't reveal even a single layer of emotion to the outside.
But that wasn't all.
'And even though he hides it all so tightly, for some reason I still get the feeling that he's very upright and principled underneath.'
That was the key.
A man who drove you mad with curiosity about the darkness inside him, yet also gave you the certainty and anticipation that whatever core lay underneath would be top-grade.
No wonder the women of the past went crazy over him.
'Now I think I finally get why Aunt Della was groaning in bed like that.'
Strictly speaking, Viscountess Müller belonged to a different generation than Corinth.
But among her relatives there were older branch-family sisters with a wide age gap, and younger aunts whose age difference was surprisingly small for an aunt-and-niece relationship.
She knew the stories of the women who had fervently adored Court Earl Corinth very well.
Among them, Aunt Della, the most notable of them all, had received a very polite rejection letter from Court Earl Corinth, and then gone without eating or drinking for weeks on end.
No joke, she had really nearly starved herself to death from lovesickness.
'The son was so smooth and laid-back that he was charming.'
The father, on the other hand, was as solid and cool as a rock, and that was what bewitched people.
It was a mystery how the Farne family's genes had been designed.
"First, I need your objective to be clear before I can give you a definite answer on whether I'll get involved."
Corinth's deep voice shattered Viscountess Müller's secret reverie in an instant.
Viscountess Müller quickly gathered her expression and brought up a merchant's cold rationality.
"The impeachment of Cardinal Barneo."
"If we're going to join hands, it's only proper to state the purpose in advance."
A heavyweight who stood just below the Pope.
The peak of power, occupying a tremendous seat in the state's ceremonial hierarchy, below a duke and above a count.
Even after hearing that extreme, insane plan to impeach him from that post.
Tap. Tap.
Court Earl Corinth didn't even twitch an eyebrow.
He simply drummed his long fingers lightly on the wooden table, showing his composure.
"My conditions are two."
"Please continue."
Soon enough, the terms of negotiation flowed naturally.
"First. After driving the cardinal out, use the influence over the Church that you secure through the saintess only in ways that absolutely do not go against the Imperial family. And."
Corinth seemed to be sorting through a huge mass of thoughts in real time; after hesitating for a very brief moment, he opened his mouth again.
"Second. When voicing opinions inside the Church through the saintess, always respect the saintess's free will."
"……."
Viscountess Müller doubted her ears for a moment.
Her beautiful brow furrowed ever so slightly.
She immediately sensed it, deep in her bones.
That this man, Court Earl Corinth, might be the kind of person she would never fully understand until the day she died.
"If I may be so bold."
"Yes."
"Is this really all? Is there truly nothing in these conditions that benefits the Farne family or your son Cassian materially or in terms of power?"
From a merchant's point of view, it was a deal that simply didn't make business sense.
If he was going to borrow the Intelligence Bureau's power to bring down a cardinal, shouldn't he at least demand some of the Church's vested interests or a share of the Müller family's business?
And yet the conditions he laid down were basically, 'Be loyal to the Imperial family and don't bully the saintess. Got it?'
"Just as the Viscountess is cut out for merchant life, I'm simply cut out for office."
"May I ask one thing?"
"Go ahead."
"The first condition, not to go against the Imperial family, was perfectly proper and reasonable as an Imperial Court Earl. However..."
Viscountess Müller leaned her upper body slightly forward and stared into Corinth's eyes as if she meant to pierce straight through them.
"And why the second?"
Respect the saintess's free will.
Why on earth was that the Court Earl's duty?
Common sense said it would be far more reasonable to add a safety clause like, 'When using the saintess's voice, first consult the Imperial family or the Court Earl.'
Yet Corinth's answer was unbelievably clear and simple.
"It's just that my attitude toward realpolitik and my attitude toward religion are different. If the saintess truly is someone who can look after those at the very bottom, then letting her voice what she wants without hesitation is something that serves the nation."
"……."
Court Earl Corinth then firmly closed his mouth.
His attitude was that there was no need to explain any further.
'Ah.'
Viscountess Müller let out a deep sigh inwardly.
So that was why Aunt Della had been so lovesick.
Deep in this cold-blooded man's chest, a noble conviction lay coiled there, something no worldly yardstick could measure.
This man was the real thing.
A man who spent all day calculating on the front lines of realpolitik, yet spoke of principle whenever religion came up.
Come to think of it, he had even been rather warm when dealing with his son.
'Come to think of it....'
It suddenly occurred to her.
Why Aunt Della had fallen into lovesickness.
'It was because this man cared about Aunt Della's reputation and secretly sent her a handwritten letter through a messenger at dawn.'
Was that the first and last letter Aunt Della had ever received from Court Earl Corinth?
Her lips curled up deeply as she smiled.
"I fully agree to and accept the two conditions you proposed. If necessary, I'm even willing to sign a magically binding contract right now."
"Understood. Then let's discuss a concrete plan for how to bring Barneo down."
In that he never said any cheap line like 'We don't need a contract,' yet somehow didn't come off as detestable at all.
'We really do take after each other in that regard too.'
Viscountess Müller could once again feel that the middle-aged man before her
was the father of the man who had made her heart flutter for an instant just a few hours earlier.