# 47
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“...Are you saying that you will tell people the story between me and the Count?”
"Yes."
Countess Olsen frowned, clearly confused by my assertive response.
My plan was simple: just give them a reason.
A good reason as to why the Countess stubbornly hindered the development of the mine.
“…There is no need for that. I have no desire to share the private story between the Count and myf with a group of strangers...”
“So, are you going to let them take your land?”
She pursed her lips at my question.
'Seriously, she's incredibly stubborn.'
But I can understand that.
There is nothing more disgusting than having your cherished memories with someone you love gossiped by people who don't even know you.
With a slight sigh, she spoke again.
“If you want to protect that land and that tree, you need to be persuasive. Like I said, if you keep holding your mouth shut, it will look like stubbornness.”
“The story between the Count and I is not important enough to prevent the Marquis from developing the mine.”
“If we're talking about technical matters, that's true. But you know what?”
I smiled mischievously, and rested my chin on my hand.
“People are surprisingly attracted to good stories.”
"… What?"
Her expression turned to uncertainty again. I recognized that look.
It's the face of someone thinking, "I don't hold any grudge against you, but you've been talking nonsense for a while now."
She really had no idea, did she?
“Why do you think people go crazy over unrealistic novels, and why have myths and legends filled with exaggerated love stories persisted for centuries?”
“People love stories inside them.”
“I understand what you are saying. But it has been more than a year since I showed my face in society after the Count’s death, and I am fully aware that my reputation among the nobles is not great.”
She looked at me.
“Then who will listen to the personal story between me and the Count now?”
I looked into her tired eyes and thought, “She's more f-aware than I expected...”
She was right. At first glance, her situation seemed similar to that of Eloise, but Countess Olsen was in a completely different situation.
I attracted attention by showing a change in my relationship with Ian, but even if the Countess suddenly appeared at a social event, not much would change.
“The Marquis Merry has an established position in society, unlike me. To try to influence public opinion against such a powerful family now is….”
“Like trying to smash a stone with an egg.”
“You are well aware of that.”
Of course, I knew that. I never intended to waste my efforts on something so trivial. Haven't I already experienced how exhausting dealing directly with nobles can be?
“There is a more effective way.”
As someone once said, resourcefulness can also be strategy.
She smiled wickedly.
“Have you ever heard of déjà vu?”
“Déjà vu?”
“Yes. Originally, it is a word to express opinions on political or social issues, but...”
With a sly look, she hit the table.
“We will use it to influence public opinion.”
I've learned something profound from my years of managing a small fan base on social media: audiences don't care about “facts.” When an issue arises, people are quick to pretend that they are analyzing the situation fairly and rationally, but in reality, they are only reacting to anything more interesting and provocative.
Some even get so caught up in the excitement that they completely ignore the actual truth.
'It's just human nature, after all.'
In a world without computers or the Internet, people are more enthusiastic about anonymous publications whose truth cannot be verified than newspapers that strive to present objective facts.
'What's wrong with using that to our advantage?'
“Um… Your Highness?”
“Hmm?”
Countess Olsen looked at me embarrassed.
“Your expression…”
“Oh, it's nothing.”
I really need to stop making such evil expressions, especially in front of the princess.
I cleared my throat and smiled my usual calm smile. Although this did not change the wary look with which Countess Olsen was giving me.
Before her look could get any more disapproving, she quickly changed the subject.
“By the way, how many servants have left this estate over the past year?”
“You said servants...?”
“Yes, specifically, those who left the palace after the Count’s death.”
When the Count died and the Countess became semi-reclusive, neglecting the family, the servants must have gradually left the palace, unable to bear the situation.
You could tell it just by the gloomy and heavy atmosphere in the reception room when you entered.
After rolling her eyes for a moment, the Countess hesitated before answering.
“…Eight out of the ten original servants have left.”
“As I thought.”
I nodded confidently and looked around the reception room.
“In that case, it will be difficult to track down who leaked any secrets that were only circulating within this palace.”
“...Excuse me, but I don't quite understand what you're saying.”
When she looked at the countess, she smiled pleasantly.
“The déjà vu we will use will be written as if by one of those servants who left this palace.”
"… What?"
Unsurprisingly, her reaction was one of disbelief.
“How could the déjà vu we wrote become something that was supposedly written by a former servant?”
Oh my God, how to deal with such a stubborn noblewoman?
I suppressed the sigh that was about to escape, and answered.
“Have you ever heard of the ‘third person effect’?”
Instead of answering, she asked in a playful tone, and Countess Olsen shook her head, puzzled.
“The term refers to the idea that people are more likely to trust information provided by a third party, someone who does not appear related to the person in question, rather than the person themves.”
This can be a bit difficult to understand, right?
With a wink, she explained it more simply.
“As I mentioned, even if you wrote déjà vu yourf, you who don’t have the best reputation in society, the nobles would just think that Countess Olsen is doing something desperate to keep her land.”
The Countess trembled at my frank and direct words.
“But if you didn’t write déjà vu, but rather one of the servants who left this palace wrote it, then the story changes.”
She let out a victorious smile.
“…If the déjà vu was actually set up by a former servant, more people would believe it.”
“Exactly. I understand.”
I extended my index finger and made a “bang” gesture as if I was shooting a gun. The Countess, who had been staring at my finger, spoke at last.
“…But isn’t that a lie?”
“Do you really have the luxury of worrying about that now?”
I clicked my tongue.
“But...”
Her voice stopped.
You may not know, but there is a saying: “If you do it badly, it's a lie; if you do it well, it's a strategy.” In the battle of public opinion, there is nothing more effective than a little gentle deception at a crucial moment.
I looked at her sideways and asked,
“Even if I used the identity of a former servant to reveal the truth, would that make the story between you and the Count any less true?”
“That's not what I meant...”
“It doesn't really matter who reveals the truth.”
I cut her off and shrugged, making the Countess purse her lips.
“Being too straight is also a problem.”
With the mine and the tree about to be removed, does it really matter now?
She sighed dramatically, and pretended to get up.
"Well, if what I've said so far doesn't move you, there's nothing I can do. I think you can hand the mine over to Marquis Merry at this point and…"
“Wait”
Countess Olsen hastily grabbed my arm.