They say only those who’ve spent money know how to spend it.
After receiving the invoice from Orgen, who had just completed the planting, Ione felt so overwhelmed that she had to lie down the entire morning.
“……”
Seriously, what is wrong with this household’s sense of money?
They talked about the Bakran like it was some common weed—so I thought it’d be cheap!
The amount on the invoice was astronomical.
Ugh
. Ione groaned silently, feeling like a hole had been blown through her personal funds.
But come to think of it, this was probably normal.
No matter how easily
Bakran
propagated, this was the vast northern territory we were talking about.
Didn’t they say it was a mining zone, too?
This whole “poor first wife” backstory is really out to get me.
Her modest financial instincts were crumbling under the weight of such a terrifying expenditure.
Ione only pulled herself together after lunch.
“Your Grace, Sir Orgen left word—if another personal expense operation like this is planned, he’d like to be notified anytime.”
“...Tell him it won’t be this month. I can’t plan anything when there’s barely anything left to spend.”
It wasn’t a request meant to imply anything.
Yet, exactly an hour later, Orgen came running in, pale as a sheet.
“I didn’t realize there was an issue with the paperwork!”
Shouting things she couldn’t understand.
Who would’ve thought she’d see this ever-composed man arrive with his hair a mess from sprinting?
Ione guided the panting Orgen to a seat and had tea prepared.
“I’m terribly sorry. May I retrieve the documents? I deeply apologize for the mistake. I’ll re-organize everything accurately…”
“Please calm down, Sir Orgen. The documents will be returned, and even if there was a mistake, it’s something we can fix.”
“……”
“What is it?”
His expression looked strange, prompting Ione to discreetly brush her cheek.
Was something on her face?
“As expected, Your Grace is so merciful.”
That came out of nowhere.
“The Grand Duke would never have allowed this.”
Orgen smoothed out his disheveled appearance and smiled.
“Let’s not bring him into this. He’s a bit... exceptional. Anyway, have some tea first.”
Amused by Orgen’s quip, Ione smiled lightly to ease the mood.
“But I believe I still deserve to be reprimanded. This was Your Grace’s first operation involving personal funds, and I made a critical error. I’m truly sorry, Your Grace.”
“I’m really fine, so don’t worry about it.”
Once she saw that Orgen had calmed down, Ione handed the report back to him.
She didn’t really know what was wrong with it, but figured it must be a serious mistake for him to rush over in such a panic.
However—
“Your Grace? Forgive me, but I can’t seem to find any issues with this.”
“Hm?”
Now it was Ione’s turn to tilt her head.
Wasn’t it Orgen who came running, insisting there was a mistake?
But from the way he was talking, it felt like
she
had pointed something out.
“I didn’t find any problems.”
“But Your Grace said the monthly budget had been completely used up, leaving no room for further operations.”
“Ah…”
At that, Ione let out a small laugh.
“I just thought the
Bakran
was far more expensive than expected.”
“Expensive, you say?”
Seeing his reaction, Ione quickly clarified.
“I don’t mean the price is incorrect. I’m definitely not accusing you.”
“Then…”
“Well, after spending that much money, what could possibly be left? Maybe a few coins, sure—but not enough to do anything significant.”
“Your Grace, have you checked the remaining balance?”
As she looked over the papers he handed her, Ione’s eyes widened.
“This is... what’s left?”
She had spent what she thought was the price of a house—yet what remained was enough to buy five more.
As Orgen watched her stunned expression, he quietly covered his mouth.
It was inappropriate, but in that moment, Ione looked incredibly adorable.
He was beginning to understand why the usually indifferent Grand Duke might pay her special attention.
She looks like a sharp, cold beauty…
Orgen’s gaze lingered, and he flinched.
To him, the Grand Duchess had simply been a bride purchased in a political deal.
A fallen noblewoman from a poor southern estate.
That was all.
But just now, she had imprinted herself clearly in his mind.
Was this what it felt like to finally meet a long-corresponded mystery pen pal in person?
He regarded her with unfamiliar eyes.
Her large, round, spring-green eyes shimmered gently, her nose was petite and high, her overall features delicate and soft.
Yet the clear hue of her small lips kept her from appearing entirely fragile.
Not quite bold, but not meek either…
Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Orgen clenched his teeth at a sudden thought.
Like a newborn kitten—if you turned it into a person, it might look like her.
An utterly irreverent idea.
Fearing it might show on his face, he forced his expression into a rigid blankness.
Which unfortunately only made him look stiff and grim.
“Sorry for alarming you, Sir Orgen. I should’ve checked first—you rushed here for nothing.”
She clearly misread his expression, but Orgen could say nothing.
“I’ll be more careful next time.”
“Th-Thank you, Your Grace.”
As another surge of unspoken feeling welled up, Orgen found himself blushing furiously as he beat a hasty retreat.
“Haa…”
The sigh that echoed behind him felt like a weight pressing on his chest.
Seriously, who says he’s not picky? One little mistake and he gives me that much grief.
Now alone, Ione pouted as she stared at the door Orgen had exited through.
Hmph. Everyone makes mistakes.
It’s not like I wanted to possess a poor ex-wife character, you know?
If she’d been born a noble lady or a wealthy heiress, she wouldn’t be agonizing over the price of
Bakran
.
Though she grumbled in her head, she was secretly delighted.
Was this what an unexpected windfall felt like?
To have personal funds each month exceeding the cost of five houses?
If she just saved wisely, she could live the rest of her life without worries.
“A Grand Duke who hands out this kind of money… he’s amazing.”
She murmured, thinking of the remaining balance.
To Ione, a “house” meant a modest home for a common family.
Just about the cost of a high noble’s dress, maybe.
Those dresses came encrusted with jewels, so of course they cost as much as a house.
Thinking about it that way, her dignity allowance might seem a bit meager—but far from it.
“They have a separate budget for clothing?”
Realizing she needed to understand the extent of her financial resources, Ione summoned the steward and head maid.
What she learned about the Grand Duchess’s financial autonomy was staggering.
“Of course, Your Grace. Attendance at imperial banquets is part of your official duties—it wouldn’t make sense to categorize that under personal funds. Besides, you’ll be hosting such events yourself, and requiring new dresses and accessories each time.”
Apparently, there was an entirely separate budget just for jewelry and dresses.
This household’s financial sensibilities… totally my style.
Ione clamped her mouth shut.
If not, she might’ve burst into cheers on the spot.
“So the personal budget is really…”
“Use it however you wish, as needed. If you require staff, please call on myself or Sir Orgen. Normally, you would appoint a personal aide—but until a suitable candidate is found, Sir Orgen will serve in that capacity.”
“Sure, sure.”
Whatever—everything sounded great.
Ione nodded, cheeks slightly flushed.
“Catherine.”
“Yes, Your Grace?”
“Would you bring me a cold tea—something to snap me out of this daze?”
Having stared blankly at the unexpected fortune only momentarily, Ione began to seriously consider how to use it.
Escape funds—no, that sounded suspicious.
Let’s call it independence funds.
Adrian’s repeated mentions of “
forever
” were starting to bother her.
It was a relationship destined to end when the heroine appeared, but what if, haunted by his own words of “
forever
,” he decided to quietly dispose of her?
No harm in being cautious.
Ione calculated her available monthly budget.
She couldn’t remember exactly how long the original “
Ione
” stayed in the ducal estate, so she needed to prepare to act quickly.
The Grand Duke went on a monster subjugation mission and returned with the heroine, right?
Ione scribbled
“Monster Subjugation”
in large letters on a piece of paper.
When he returned with the heroine, things might end amicably—but if not, escape would be her only option.
If she ran and got caught, the emperor’s granted funds would be frozen.
The moment she touched that money, a pursuit would begin.
“Haa…”
Don’t underestimate the emperor. He became ruler at thirteen. He’s governed the continent without so much as a ripple. Do you really think he’s someone to take lightly?
So that’s what it meant.
Ione quickly listed her needs:
Fake identity, money, a place to live.
And the thing that made it all possible:
money
.
She racked her brain desperately.
Even the duchess’s funds were traceable, making them useless.
That money couldn’t buy her a new identity.
If the funds were traced, she’d be caught instantly.
“This is a headache.”
She muttered—and decided to go with the classic method of money laundering.
The go-to strategy for many heroines in regression novels:
“I need to start a merchant guild.”
Ione’s spring-green eyes sparkled with determination.