The steward standing beside Nina spoke with a look so stern it seemed steam might burst from his nostrils.
“Second Young Mistress, this noon the Elders of the Grand Council will be paying a visit. They are all cultivators of high standing and strict discipline, so it would be wise to revise your table etiquette once more…”
Ever since yesterday, he had spoken to me as though taming a wild spiritual beast—each word weighed and thrown like a command talisman.
“You nagged all through the four meals yesterday! Can’t you just let me eat in peace for once?”
I waved him off as if brushing away a bothersome mosquito.
“You must also learn how to read the financial ledgers!”
“I really
do
know how! I’m actually better with numbers than with words, I swear!”
The steward cried out with a face full of despair.
“You haven’t done a
single
thing properly so far!”
It hit me then—my credibility in this manor was buried deeper than a sealed demon under Mount Ten Thousand Shadows.
As the steward continued lecturing me with righteous fury, Nina quietly lifted the plate before me and offered a gentle smile.
“In that case, I’ll have the kitchen prepare a fresh dish.”
“T-Then what about this salmon…?”
“It must be properly redone for its flavor to be revived—”
At that moment, her words struck me like a bolt from the heavens.
This insane manor was truly the kind of place that would discard a giant slab of spirit-grade salmon simply because it hadn’t been
perfectly
prepared.
But me?
I was merely a guest, here only because of this absurd
illusory pregnancy
. Once the farce ended, I’d be ousted from this golden cage.
“Wait a moment… If I’m leaving anyway, shouldn’t I be extracting every benefit I can while I’m here?”
Yet the decision I arrived at, despite its logic, was anything but rational.
“F-Fine… then… make a fresh one…”
“…Yes, we’ll prepare a fresh—”
“—but I’ll still eat this one. Bring it here.”
“…?”
I suddenly snatched the plate from Nina’s hands before she could react.
She stared at me in confusion for about five seconds, uncertain whether to resist or obey. Then she abruptly let go.
“…Y-You mean… you’ll eat both?”
“Is that a problem?”
“N-No… not at all. Of course not…”
She walked away, holding only the empty dish, wearing a strange expression on her face.
✵
✵
✵
But after clearing the first plate completely, I found myself utterly stuffed. I couldn’t eat a single bite of the freshly prepared spirit salmon steak. Turning to Nina with pleading eyes, I begged:
“Don’t throw it away… Can’t
you
eat it instead?”
“…Pardon?”
“Throwing this out would break my heart.”
No matter how luxurious my surroundings, the beggar’s spirit within me refused to die.
How could they just toss out such a majestic cut of salmon like it was waste?
Back in the day, that single piece could’ve sustained me for three whole days of harsh cultivation!
“…B-But how could I sit here and dine— If you discard it, the kitchen—”
“I
just said
it would break my heart!”
“E-Even so…”
“Can’t we… just share it?”
Nina gave me another strange look, but in the end, she quietly sat beside me and began to eat.
I even ordered two desserts and two after-meal drinks—one set for me and one for her.
“Ordering double dessert and drinks in a house this grand… it really drives home how extravagant this place is!”
It didn’t seem common for a personal maid to dine with her master, and I sensed murmurs among the servants.
Unfortunately, I spilled chilled tea on my robe just as I left the dining hall—and that’s when I overheard them.
“She really is from a low-ranking noble clan… There’s no way she came from a proper household.”
“Which explains the premarital pregnancy…”
“You and Nina might make a good pair. I heard she’s from a fallen noble clan too… wasn’t she sold off to pay debts or something?”
Blah, blah, blah.
Nina, who had followed me out, froze—her expression stone-cold.
I clicked my tongue and went back into the dining hall. Nina began clearing her plate and cup without a word.
“…I’ll be clearing away now.”
“Huh? Why?”
I was in the middle of enjoying the cake when I looked up. Nina stammered, flustered.
“Y-You heard them, didn’t you?”
“I did. Looks like those people have nothing better to do, huh? So nosy about other people’s business.”
I don’t care about their lives, but they sure love digging into mine.
“Anyway, the cake’s good. If I wasn’t already full, I wouldn’t have shared it with you.”
Nina’s face twisted even more. Like something had come to mind. But I had zero interest in hearing about her tragic backstory or deep emotional scars.
We simply sat side by side and ate. I didn’t ask anything. At the end of the meal, I just said:
“By the way, when I offered you money, why’d you run and snitch to the steward?”
Nina looked down at her empty plate and answered plainly, like it was obvious.
“Because the money from the steward and this household is more than what you offered.”
Oh… Smart girl.
Tch. So she won’t be bought that easily.
It’s not like I have more money than this whole household anyway!
Nina gave her blunt answer, but just before leaving the dining hall, maybe feeling a little guilty, she hesitated and added:
“Milady… the reason I reported you was actually because of my family—”
But I cut her off, waving my hand.
“Ugh, yeah yeah, your family’s got issues or whatever! I don’t wanna hear it! It’ll just ruin my mood!”
A sick younger sibling, a starving family… If she was sold off by some bankrupt noble clan because of debt, the story’s obvious. She wouldn’t be the first.
“….”
“Just take care of it quietly. If you’re starving, just say I ate everything and sneak some food from the storage when you need to.”
“…Excuse me?”
Nina’s face contorted again. Looking at her—poor, but still clinging to some scrap of pride—I felt an odd pang in my gut.
Even fallen nobles are still nobles, huh?
No wonder she looked down on me when we first met…
I scratched my ear, too lazy to explain.
“There’s so much food rotting in this household. Someone’s gotta eat it before it goes bad.”
Soon enough, the steward heard about how I’d eaten with Nina and started nagging me about maintaining the proper hierarchy within the estate.
Naturally, I didn’t listen to a word.
“You must not share meals with servants or sit at the same table—are you even listening?”
“Being warm and full is the pinnacle of life.”
I was already sprawled out on the bed, rolling around.
“And giving Nina money to write letters for you yesterday—”
“Wow, this blanket looks absurdly expensive. Think I could fence it if I needed to?”
“….”
“Mm… Guess I should just give up, huh?”
Yes. Give up.
You’ll be better off.
I gave up too—on the whole “noble young mistress” act—yesterday.
Too much of a hassle.
After the steward’s ruthless lesson yesterday, my goal completely changed.
Who needs to be some elegant lady?
Honestly, looking good outside the clan is way more important than looking good inside it.
Take Lady Margaret Beaufort, for example…
I glanced at the envelope Erik had left behind.
I’d heard that Lady Margaret wasn’t just a matriarch of high society, but also the cultivator with the deepest spiritual pouch in the capital.
If I approached her with this envelope, greeted her respectfully, and struck up good relations, perhaps she’d be generous enough to lend me five hundred thousand gold coins!
To someone like me, that was an amount that would require selling my spiritual core—but to these capital aristocrats, that kind of fortune was nothing more than pocket change.
With that, I could finally repay Marina Corleone’s debt.
Marina Corleone—
The woman who abandoned her conscience and fled, leaving us as collateral for the debts of Wedgewood… if she even
had
a conscience to begin with. Some say she was a true witch, not just in spirit but in cultivation.
“By now, she must’ve heard we’ve arrived in the capital…”
I pictured her unruly black hair, curled like a serpent.
"They say the heart of a red-haired maiden works wonders for the skin. So—will it be your heart, or your conscience? Pick one."
Ugh. That grating, metallic voice still gave me chills.
Just then, the steward let out a long sigh while rubbing his forehead.
“In any case… you are aware that the Elders of the Grand Council will arrive soon, yes?”
“…?”
The Grand Council?
“…You
forgot
that too?!”
The steward suddenly raised his voice. Only then did I recall the nonsense he’d mumbled this morning.
Ah—right. The Grand Council was supposed to deliver the sect’s ledger to the new mistress of the household.
Not every clan has a Grand Council, of course.
But for an old and mighty house like the Duke of Orléans, it was inevitable that there’d be branch families and sworn retainers who had pledged their loyalty across generations.
Of course, “loyalty” was just a euphemism—it was more like a give-and-take of business rights and cultivation land leases.
It was a sort of strategic alliance. These side branches and retainers, wishing to insert themselves into every internal matter of the clan, gave themselves a lofty title—
The Grand Council
.
Calling themselves outsourced cultivators didn’t have quite the same air.
“Psh. I
do
remember. They're coming to hand over the ledgers or whatever.”
Still… what am
I
supposed to do with someone else’s sect ledger?
“You must immediately begin learning how to read the financial ledgers! If you don’t, then when the books—!”
Learn, learn, always learn!
Why on earth do I need to study how to read the ledgers—when I already know how?
“I
told
you, I’m strong with numbers!!”
✵
✵
✵
Two hours later—
Three elders arrived at the manor, each of them weathered by the years, radiating an aura as stiff as frozen qi.
These were the high-ranking cultivators of the Grand Council. With narrowed eyes and air of superiority, they regarded the servants and steward as if they were their own disciples.
I stood quietly in the reception hall, observing them.
From eldest to youngest: Alain, Sicard, Oscar.
I recalled the steward reciting their names two hours earlier.
Now then—time to greet them with proper decorum…
Just as I took a step forward to introduce myself as the new mistress of the sect—
“When receiving guests, the tray for their gloves must be presented
first
. What fool grabs their outer robe first?”
“…?”
The elder who seemed to be Alain—their leader—suddenly barked at Nina.
“Tsk! The cloak is supposed to be handled like
this
…”
As if that signaled the start of a coordinated attack, all three elders began nitpicking Nina’s hospitality, though to me, it seemed flawless.
“At this rate, we’ll have to dock your pay for the next season!”
That comment—likely from Sicard—made Nina’s face go pale.
What do they mean, “dock her pay”... who gave them that authority?
…Oh. Right. They
have
the ledgers, don’t they?
It took ten whole minutes for them to remove their cloaks. Not because it was difficult, but because they were too busy scolding my maid in
my
manor.
Only
after
those ten minutes did they acknowledge me with a half-hearted bow—
And before I could even get a word in, they opened their mouths with:
“So tell us… your age this year is—?”
The steward said these three held the highest position within the Grand Council.
And now that I saw them with my own eyes…
‘So they didn’t gather the highest-ranking elders—they just brought the most rigid, old-school fossils from the Council.’
Clearly, none of them were fond of me.
I gave a sharp smile as I observed the expressions of the three elders. The very moment Eric and I were married, the Duke summoned a family council—so it was obvious whose side these old cultivators were on.
“I’m twenty-two,” I answered calmly.
“You’re not that young after all,” said Sikar.
Excuse me? Is
he
seriously saying that? The steward told me he’s in his sixties, but I still can’t believe it!
As I maintained a serene expression, Oscar chimed in.
“In our time, once a woman passed twenty, it was nearly impossible for her to get married, Young Mistress!”
“…?”
‘Did anyone
ask
you? Who asked this guy to give a history lesson?! Who?!’
And they didn’t stop there. They nitpicked everything—my background, my education, the vocabulary I used.
The steward watched my increasingly stiff face from afar with a look that said,
“Told you to prepare beforehand…”
What was I supposed to do, huh? Change my age and lineage in advance?
Or find out about these three elders and blow up their carriage before they arrived?!
“I simply cannot tolerate the name of House Orléans being dragged through such low-tier publications because of this marriage, Young Mistress!” Oscar exclaimed.
“And that, that
photo
on the front page…!”
I looked at Oscar, who was clutching the back of his neck like he’d taken inner qi damage, and smiled sweetly.
“Low-tier, yet you still read it?”
Oscar faltered for a moment, then glared at me with a
“how dare she”
kind of expression.
I glared back.
‘What? Got a problem?’
Oscar rubbed his neck again, looking like he feared for the righteous path of the Duke’s new daughter-in-law.
Alain clicked his tongue and finally spoke.
“The most troubling part of the article was… well, this is difficult to say, but…”
He didn’t
look
the least bit hesitant.
I had a good idea what he was about to say, so I waved a hand dismissively.
“Just say it.”
Alain slammed his teacup down on its saucer hard enough to ring.
Then, wearing the kind of face cultivators reserve for talking about demonic arts, he said with clear distaste,
“Before the wedding, the two of you were meeting in the Blooming Night Rose Pavilion, and that… in her belly… in
that belly
…!”
He couldn’t even finish the sentence, only mouthing like a goldfish.
I scratched my neck, clearly bored.
“There are rumors… that the two of you already have a child. Heavens above!”
Alain clasped his hands and looked up at the heavens as if invoking divine punishment.
In the back, the steward looked like he was about to faint from panic, eyes fixed entirely on me.
Before the elders arrived, he had pleaded with me over and over:
“Could we perhaps delay revealing the… blessing in your womb?”
“You want me to lie?”
“It’s not a lie! Just… redirect the conversation. Wait, don’t you usually love lying?”
Honestly… I couldn’t bear to disappoint the steward further.
“Ohohoho, yes, that’s right. Say hello, Rose. These are your grandpas. Say hello to Grandpa~”
I gently patted my belly and smiled sweetly.
Might as well admit it quickly.
No point in denying it—out-of-wedlock pregnancy is still a fact, isn’t it?
(…Well, technically it’s not, but still…)
The three elders’ jaws dropped as they looked at each other in shock.
Behind them, the steward looked like his dantian had shattered. Nina had to catch him before he fell over.
Chapter 56