SOLIRF~36

Chapter 36

The Ultra-Elite Man’s Counseling Session

Cold sweat ran down my back as I tried to act clueless and casual.

Thankfully, Aidan had finished crafting the voice-altering artifact before this man’s return visit.

Once activated, it automatically produced the voice of the other persona I’d created before—no effort needed.

“So, despite calling me a fraud, you came back. I guess my name still carries some weight, huh?”

“……”

The little lamb seemed unwilling to admit it.

Eager to get rid of him as quickly as possible, I went straight to the point.

“What brings you back this time?”

“That voice and that mask go together disturbingly well. It’s irritating.”

I barely held back from pointing out that his mask and voice were far from a perfect match.

“Honestly…”

The little lamb let out a long sigh and began, albeit reluctantly, to speak. His hesitation made him look oddly clumsy for someone like him.

“Master Quokka, I was… rather shocked by your last comment. I’ve always thought that improving one’s ability was an individual’s responsibility. I never once considered that it might be the manager’s duty to help their subordinates grow.”

He rubbed the mouth of his lamb mask and continued.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a few days, and you were right. As long as I’m the manager of this division, it’s my responsibility to help my subordinates grow if we’re to reach our goals.”

Well, well. He’s more reasonable than I thought.

“Wasn’t easy to admit, I bet. I’m surprised.”

“It just took me some time to accept an unexpected opinion. But if it’s right, there’s no reason to reject it.”

It was impressive—most people would rather bite their tongues than admit they were wrong.

“So your problem’s solved then, isn’t it?”

At that, he sighed again.

Watching a cute little lamb sigh over and over wasn’t exactly pleasant.

“I just… don’t know how to manage and train subordinates.”

“You were the future du—”

“What?”

I almost asked whether the next Grand Duke and decorated commander hadn’t received basic leadership training.

“What I was taught about fostering subordinates must be different from what you mean.”

The little lamb shook his head.

“Finding someone talented, feeding them, giving them a bed and a mentor—those are good ways to recruit and make someone your own. But in my case, everyone under me already has credentials. Yet… something feels off.”

I thought of the Bull Captain, who often visited these days. His subordinates were probably crushed under his overwhelming presence and noble status. After being called incompetent a few times, they likely stopped voicing opinions altogether.

“They probably think silence is safer than being scolded.”

“People don’t change overnight,” I said. “So let’s take it one step at a time.”

“Is there a method?”

“First, stop hitting your subordinates with fact violence.”

“Fact… what?”

“Being too brutally honest only leads to despair, not reflection.”

He breathed mental abuse toward the Bull Captain as naturally as breathing itself.

So I patiently explained why his subordinates were terrified of him.

Throughout my long explanation, he kept repeating, ‘They really feel that way?’

After quite some time, he finally muttered in a tone that understood logically, yet not emotionally,

“I see… So I have to stop assuming that everyone thinks, judges, and works the way I do.”

“That’s right. It’s basic consideration—something even a saint would say, Master Quokka.”

“I’m just saying that for smooth teamwork, a little courtesy helps. Before you criticize, count to three.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”

“If you can’t understand it, just memorize it.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Whether you do it or not is up to you. I’m only offering advice.”

“Alright, alright, enough already.”

I only wanted to send him away quickly, but I got so into my role that I kept reminding him, “Count to three before speaking.”

I thought I heard a faint grrr sound, but since he was wearing a mask, I pretended not to notice.

After that, the Marquis gave me several more errands to the Imperial Palace.

As a result, I began to run into the Minister of Finance quite often.

“Your documentation is always so neat.”

“How did you know it was mine?”

The Minister greeted me warmly every time I came. Sometimes, he even treated me to delicious palace snacks.

“These kinds of documents are usually handled only by a direct aide, but the Marquis doesn’t have one right now. So, you must be doing it in his place. The layout’s easy to follow. Well done.”

“It’s nothing. I just made a few tweaks so it’d be easier to read later. The Lady and the Marquis approved, thankfully.”

“Of course they did. You’re saving everyone time. I’ll have my own aide take notes from this.”

He looked very pleased.

“If you ever leave Lady Chiara’s side, come work for me. I’ll make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

“If Lady Chiara finds out, she might storm your office, Minister.”

“Oh, heavens. In that case, I take it back.”

We shared an easy laugh. I was getting used to palace visits; they no longer felt as tense or intimidating as before.

By now, I could even recall which department was on which floor.

“I’ll walk you out today,” the Minister said.

Ever since the incident with Chancellor Marcus, he had mostly stayed inside his office. But now, looking more at ease, he escorted me all the way to the door.

Just as I was about to take my leave—

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Lady Chiara’s aide.”

It was Lady Seref, walking toward us with a refined middle-aged woman who closely resembled her.

The Minister stepped forward first.

“Duchess Seref, what a pleasant surprise. It’s been a while.”

“It has indeed, Minister Harcourt.”

Now that I saw them side by side, it was obvious that Lady Seref had inherited her mother’s pale skin and delicate features.

I quickly bowed.

“My apologies for the late greeting. Cornelia Libertas, aide to Lady Chiara Aurelius.”

“…”

“So, you’re that girl.”

The air turned icy.

Sensing the tension, the Minister quickly intervened.

“What brings you here, Duchess?”

“I came to see Her Majesty the Empress and His Highness the Crown Prince. As you know, our Lilis is the Crown Prince’s fiancée. They’re so fond of each other.”

“Indeed. The future Crown Princess herself. The Empire’s future looks bright.”

“Yes, if only certain lowly people would learn their place.”

That last line was a direct hit aimed squarely at me.

The Duchess had no intention of accepting the Minister’s attempt to ease the mood.

“I heard you dared to reject my daughter’s offer—my daughter, who will soon be Crown Princess.”

“Mother,” Lady Seref said softly, trying to stop her. But her mother’s eyes burned with outrage.

“I was grateful for the offer,” I replied politely, “but I chose to honor the trust Lady Chiara placed in me.”

A diplomatic way of saying, I already work for someone else.

“Such arrogance,” the Duchess hissed. “You don’t even know which hand feeds you, and you dare obstruct my daughter’s path in society? Is it because you were born into some nameless, lowly family?”

“Duchess, please—”

The Minister tried again, but she only grew more vicious, as though she’d found a perfect target to vent on.

“Just look at that short hair, like a man’s. Who would even marry you like that? A few strokes of luck and you’ve grown insufferably bold. Had you entered our household, you wouldn’t have stepped outside until we taught you some proper manners. Honestly, what kind of parents raised you?”

“Mother!”

“Duchess!”

Their shouts snapped me out of my red haze before I said something I’d regret.

The Duchess, utterly shameless, merely glared and said, “Let’s go.”

Because of that damned noble etiquette, I had to bow again as they left.

“Cornelia, are you alright?”

“…”

It was the first time since coming here that I’d felt this furious over my social standing. My head throbbed with heat, like a sealed pot about to explode.

“Cornelia?”

“I’m fine,” I managed, forcing my eyes shut to calm down. When I opened them, my thoughts were racing.

The Minister studied me worriedly.

“The Duchess’s temper is well-known in high society. Once she snaps, no one can stop her—and she’s especially cruel to those beneath her. I’m afraid your Black Diamond project must’ve rubbed her the wrong way.”

“I see.”

He sighed heavily.

“You shouldn’t come to the palace again. I’ll speak to the Marquis. You didn’t deserve that.”

I smiled faintly.

“I’ll just think of her as… a difficult customer.”

“A… difficult customer?”

“Oh, right.” I glanced toward the corridor. “If they came to see the Empress and the Crown Prince and visited the central offices, they must be meeting with Chancellor Marcus, right?”

The Minister frowned.

“Hmm? Why would the Duchess meet Marcus?”

Now it was my turn to tilt my head.

“Isn’t Chancellor Marcus the Duke of Seref?”

“Marcus? No, he’s the Marquis of Vein. You must’ve mistaken the name. We often use first names in work—it’s easier. There are overlaps among the nobility.”

“Really? How strange…”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing. Must’ve been my mistake.”

But the Minister didn’t seem convinced.

“Come on, you’re holding something back. Tell me.”

I sighed, then leaned closer.

“Lend me your ear for a moment.”

He bent down, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. I paused dramatically before whispering—

“They’re not husband and wife. They’re having an affair.”