LMJO 39

Chapter 39. Still, Choose the Happier Path

It was quite some time after the lord’s funeral that they were finally able to leave Rohos Castle.

“Annika Rohos may be the sole heir, but with such a sudden succession, there are bound to be mistakes.”

Idren offered to help solidify her position.
Ophelia watched as he worked to classify the factions within the new lord’s camp. It looked like he was giving advice to the new lady of the castle based on memories of the past.

Ophelia wondered if there was anything she could offer him in return—but nothing came to mind. It was natural, really. Even in her previous life, she hadn’t cared much about forming alliances with local lords.

She had mostly mingled with merchants from Netepel and Egelbamoth, or with nobles close to them. She also exchanged letters with Deos Rachmata, who had settled in Thessendot.

There had been some contact with the family of the Queen of Reden—her mother—who had taken her own life long ago. But their relationship hadn’t been close.

They had once been royalty of a small island kingdom. After losing their princess to King Dares of Reden, they had come to detest the Reden royal family. Especially after that princess bore him two children and then hanged herself.

Anyway, the key point was that Ophelia hadn’t blended well with the inner circle of Aglante.

Idren didn’t entrust domestic affairs to her this time either.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. But you need not trouble yourself with governance.”

He said this during a conversation in a guest room at Rohos Castle.

Ophelia agreed with him. She would be leaving in a few years anyway—it wasn’t wise to become too entangled in politics.

Still, it didn’t sit right to promise to get along and then leave all the work to him. So one night, she offered him something she thought she might actually handle well.

“I’ve done quite a bit of work involving money.”

He was sitting beside her on the bed, playing with her hair—a habit he’d taken a liking to at some point. At her words, he raised his eyebrows.

Ophelia, annoyed by his apparent lack of seriousness, continued,
“I spent more than I earned, sure. But I’m good at earning too.”

And before he could respond, she added quickly,
“Those two things aren’t so different.”

She’d learned that in her past life while dabbling in things similar to high-interest private lending with the Mahanas.

To make money, one had to steer the flow of capital in one’s favor. Spending was the simplest and most effective way to do that.

Idren looked down at her for a moment, then said:

“Then do the one that brings you more joy.”

His tone made it clear he was humoring her.

Ophelia was dumbfounded. He had seen the treasures she’d brought from the Reden Palace, and yet he said that? Still, she closed her eyes without a word.

Spending money wasn’t a bad thing. Moderate luxury was one of the best ways to form relationships.

People with similar spending habits acted as stepping stones in the circulation of wealth—and those stepping stones proved useful when needed.

Still, perhaps Idren had something in mind when he said that, because the next day, he brought a young boy to her.

“M-my name is Dahel, Princess.”

The boy stammered and couldn’t even lift his head properly, but his face was familiar. In her previous life, he had served as her financial advisor.

“He’s seventeen this year. Originally he served as a page for Taeran…”

Idren frowned, seemingly unwilling to elaborate on the late lord’s strange private affairs.

“…In any case, Annika Rohos terminated his employment. If you wish to take him with you, you may.”

“Did you ask the boy?”

“He said he’d go with you, as long as you’re okay with it.”

So Ophelia decided to bring him along. She didn’t know if he would become her advisor again, but there was no reason to leave him behind if he was willing.

He was probably riding in one of the carriages following hers, she thought, as she looked out the window.

Today, they were finally leaving Rohos Castle. She was waiting for Idren to board the carriage. He had gone to speak briefly with the new lord.

Ophelia yawned softly and leaned against the window.

* * *

“Then I’ll see you in the capital in three months.”

Annika bowed deeply to the young man who said this. The black-haired king raised the corners of his lips as he looked at her. A smile spread across his elegant, well-defined face.

It could have appeared bright and refreshing, but Annika was not fooled. Even now, the young king was weighing her on his internal scale.

She hadn’t forgotten her father’s body—something she had seen with her own eyes.

Upon arriving at Rohos Castle after receiving a letter, Annika was informed of her father’s death. He’d gone hunting and suffered an accident, they said.

The king, who had accompanied her father on the hunt, led her to the underground chamber of the castle so she could identify the body.

In the stone-walled basement, where the chill was almost tangible, she confirmed the corpse.

It lay on dark crimson cloth—so mangled it was hard to look at. And yet, strangely, there were no visible wounds to vital areas.

The king had come with only a single knight. As he stepped behind her, the air grew thick with a fishy stench. Annika was certain he had intentionally dressed in black that day.

The tall young man looked down at the corpse over her shoulder. His gaze seemed more focused on her than the body.

With a tone of pity, he said,
“He was attacked by a beast in the woods…”

But as far as she knew, no beast struck only the hands and face.

Though the corpse was destroyed almost beyond recognition, its face remained frozen in vivid terror. Annika asked quietly,

“Do you know why a wild beast would enter a hunting ground?”

The man who knew better than anyone—even more than she did—that her father was the real beast, replied softly,
“Well, you know how many sins your father committed.”

“The ones committed with tongue and hands must have been the worst.”

She replied, staring down at her father’s broken fingers.

At first, she had thought both hands were turned backward.

But on closer inspection, they were not.

The king said nothing in response. Though she didn’t look back, Annika felt he was smiling behind her.

She wondered why the king had laid such a heavy hand on her father. What had provoked him?

She had thought he’d been letting it slide all this time.

And yet, in just one day, he had utterly crushed the man.

It was a boon for her—someone who had been waiting for a chance to bring her father down. But just because something was sweet didn’t mean you could swallow it whole.

She couldn’t understand why the king had severed one of his own branches.

One thing was certain: this wasn’t for her benefit.

He was young but discerning. There was no way he was being generous to the daughter of a dead lord he barely knew.

He was surely expecting something in return.

But that day, the king said nothing. Annika couldn’t even ask what he wanted—his message had been delivered verbally, leaving her with no proof.

Before leaving the basement, he called to her.

“Annika, it may be hard to believe, but I saw the beast clearly with my own eyes.”

His yellow eyes glinted sharply—like those of a predator lurking in the forest.

Her father was dead, and the title passed to her. With the king present at Rohos Castle, no neighboring lords dared speak carelessly at the funeral.

In fact, that made things awkward for her. Had they voiced their complaints, she could’ve cut ties easily. But with the king looming behind her, nothing came out.

She knew it wasn’t true recognition—it was the king’s shadow holding them back.

And as if reading her thoughts, the king said,

“Don’t feel too burdened by your father’s friends. This may be cruel to say, but… middle-aged men and their stingy friendships? The daughter of a dead friend is often the first thing they drop.”

Then why had he stayed at Rohos Castle? Annika swallowed her bitterness and replied,

“Still, one can’t abandon friends without cause.”

“Think carefully, Annika. Weren’t you already preparing to abandon your father?”

Then he added,
“Friends tend to find their own kind.”

His tone was light, but Annika didn’t take it lightly.

In truth, she had been compiling her father’s crimes to take him down.

No one knew—but not only had the king known, he even told her to collect the crimes of the neighboring lords and cut them down too.

Her surprise at his knowledge faded as one question rose:

No matter how meticulous she was, she couldn’t be as swift or effective as him. Her years of work had taken only a day in his hands.

If he wanted to punish those lords, wouldn’t it be better for him to do it himself?

Soon, she understood why he passed the task to her.

“If you manage to collect good proof of their ‘friendships’ within three months, I’ll introduce you to someone worth befriending.”