Chapter 32 – Your Wife Would Be Upset
The maids were speechless.
“Not ten, but fifty outfits?”
“Do you even know how much fabric it takes to make a dress? And it’s not like Madam is wearing the same uniform we do.”
The maids exchanged glances and shook their heads.
“That’s right. Uniforms. She told us to make fifty uniforms.”
“You’re seriously saying Madam wants to wear a uniform? Are you joking?”
“No. She said she was worried our clothes were too thin, so she told us to make more.”
“She told you… to make our clothes?”
“Do I need to say it twice?”
When Bonisa took a large step forward, the maids flinched and backed away.
“You don’t seem to get it, so let me say it again. The same Madam you were badmouthing just asked me to make new clothes—for you.”
“When did we ever badmouth her…”
Judging by how flustered they looked, they finally understood.
‘Why would Madam make clothes for us?’
‘And using this thick, high-quality cotton?’
With a relieved expression, Bonisa picked up the cotton fabric that had fallen on the ground.
The maids stood frozen as she walked out.
In truth, they felt ashamed.
They had loudly called Madam selfish, and now they were about to benefit from her kindness.
Their eyes drifted to the stacked fabric. If their uniforms were made with such thick, tightly woven cotton, life in the freezing grand duchy would definitely get a bit easier.
But still, just accepting this…
That’s when Bonisa’s sharp voice called from outside the door.
“If you don’t come now, I’ll make them without yours.”
Only then did the maids, pretending to protest, pick up the fabric bundles.
“How are you going to make all that alone!”
“We’re coming with you!”
✦✦✦
The promised day arrived. I headed toward the border village with a cart full of tapestries.
As soon as the sound of wheels echoed, a woman carrying firewood approached.
“Oh my, what’s all this?”
She was the same woman I’d seen chatting warmly with the soldiers on my first day here. As the noise outside grew, more villagers came out to inspect the cart.
“Please, take one per household.”
“Heavens. I’ve never seen such thick tapestry before.”
The woman caressed the fabric, awe and gratitude on her face.
“Thank you for saying you’re the blacksmith’s daughter. Because of that, I think I can finalize my trade safely.”
“No need to thank me! You’re speaking with Her Grace, the Grand Duchess—of course I should help.”
I had revealed my identity to them. In a place like this, where outsiders rarely appear, even a stranger’s presence can cause distrust. But the moment they learned the Grand Duchess herself had come to this forgotten village, they welcomed me with open arms.
“And with all this hardship you’re enduring to save our families, how can we sit idly by?”
“She’s right. If only my daughter comes back, I’d give you my house if needed.”
Most villagers here had loved ones taken by Kursia. They settled here to wait for the annual border-crossing visits. Although many had initially been hostile toward the Kursians, over time, they learned to coexist.
I’d benefited from that trust too.
“Never mind the house—just hurry and take one.”
“Thank you, Your Grace!”
“Shhh. The soldiers might hear.”
This much? I could easily give.
Next was the barracks beyond the fence.
“Did you gather the information I asked for, Commander?”
When I entered, the commander gestured to the seat across from him.
Without hesitation, I placed the contract I had prepared onto the table.
That composed expression of his—
It told me everything I needed to know: he’d done his job properly.
As expected, his tight lips parted.
“I’ll make the deal.”
Nice.
Smiling brightly, I slid the papers toward him.
“This outlines a deal: 100 pounds of herbs for 2 billion won. Please stamp your seal at the bottom.”
Since this involved a large sum, he read through the contract carefully.
Then, without hesitation, he took out his seal. Once that seal landed, 2 billion won would be mine. Just thinking about being able to finally repair the estate made me swallow hard. Loudly, maybe?
He looked at me with sharp focus.
“Is there something unclear about the contract?”
He examined me with scrutiny.
“Who exactly are you?”
Exactly the question I’d expected.
After all, I came bearing information even the Kursians didn’t know.
Surely, he’d realized I wasn’t just the daughter of a rural blacksmith.
“I’ll tell you—after you stamp the contract.”
Before giving the answer he wanted, I had to secure what I needed first.
We locked eyes in a short contest of wills. But I didn’t lose. With a thump, he stamped the paper and handed it over.
Now it was my turn.
“I was sent by the mistress of Blandeche.”
I had no intention of revealing my true identity.
If word got out that the Grand Duchess had directly negotiated with a Kursian, it could be used against me.
“Her Grace foresaw this matter and instructed me to handle the trade.”
I posed as her agent and explained everything—from my arrival to the proposal.
After hearing the full story, he exhaled sharply.
“They say the lady of the estate immediately took over after returning… so there was a reason for the quick marriage.”
“She’s a wise one.”
“But don’t you think buying just a year’s worth of herbs for 2 billion is a rip-off?”
He grumbled. Was he trying to renegotiate now?
“You could probably buy them for half the price in another empire.”
“Go ahead, then. But once Kursia starts importing large quantities of herbs, others will grow suspicious. People will wonder what’s going on. Think they’ll still sell to you at this price afterward?”
At my unflinching reply, he shut his mouth.
“Anything else?”
“You really think a mere border commander like me has that kind of money?”
Trying to play the pity card?
Please. I wasn’t buying it.
Kursia had sucked enough money out of Blandeche.
“If you were just a commander, then no. But the youngest prince of Kursia? I doubt paying up would be an issue.”
His calm eyes twitched.
Bullseye.
“How did you know? Did the Grand Duchess tell you?”
I chuckled and shook my head.
“No need. The insignia on your sword—the royal crest of Kursia, isn’t it?”
A sword displayed on the wall, its handle decorated with a grand emblem.
The moment I stepped into the barracks, I’d noticed it.
Who hangs a royal crest in plain sight and expects to pass as a common soldier?
“Even if the emperor gifted it to you, no way would a soldier with that blade be stationed out in the boonies—unless he chose to leave the capital. Maybe to avoid the royal infighting after Kursia’s unification. Like a younger prince?”
It was an educated guess. Youngest sons usually stay out of succession wars.
“Hah. So you figured it all out.”
“Knowing your counterpart is the only way to set the right price.”
“Like master, like servant.”
He even complimented me, the Grand Duchess’s supposed representative. A rare feeling—being acknowledged.
But he wasn’t handing over the contract yet.
His eyes clearly had more to say.
“Is there something else you’re curious about?”
“One condition.”
I coldly declined.
“Additional conditions require a separate deal.”
He immediately pulled out a new sheet of paper.
“You’ll come here for a month and teach them the treatment methods.”
“…Me?”
He pointed at me. I blinked.
“You were just going to toss them herbs and say, ‘Figure it out yourselves’?”
“Nope. I even brought a book explaining everything.”
I handed it over.
He flipped through it without much interest.
“Let me guess—you were planning to sell this too.”
Sharp guy.
Nothing in life is free. Especially not my time and research.
“With this, they can use herbs properly. Many are harmful if misused.”
“So what price were you thinking?”
I hesitated, unsure if I should name a high figure. But now was the perfect time to bargain.
“Fiv—”
“Ten billion. But you stay for a month.”
“I’ll give it my all.”
In the end, I folded before money.
Even five billion was a highball, and he offered double?
“As expected of a prince. So generous.”
I gave him a thumbs up, grinning.
“Don’t call me that here. It’ll make the other soldiers uncomfortable.”
“Then… I’ll call you Sir Cantad.”
It was the name on his seal.
“Fine. But the payment comes after a month.”
I didn’t love that, but I didn’t think he’d run.
“Fair enough. But no more conditions, okay?”
“Agreed.”
Once I had that confirmation, I packed up the contract and the herb manual.
That’s when I noticed blood on the floor—leading to Cantad’s leg.
“You’re hurt?”
Startled, I asked. He pulled his cloak over his leg.
“No need to worry.”
“Says the man who just paid twenty billion for herbs? Pull up your pants—I’ll apply some medicine.”
I yanked his cloak aside, and he pulled his leg away in alarm.
“What are you doing?”
“If you leave that untreated, you might lose your leg. Want to limp forever?”
I exaggerated on purpose.
Kursians seriously didn’t understand the danger of untreated wounds.
“It won’t rot.”
“Tsk.”
After a lengthy standoff, I won. As I rolled up his pants, I found dried blood on his shin.
The wound was clearly days old, reopened by movement.
I cleaned the blood first.
“A sword wound.”
I said, puzzled. Fights weren’t common here. Most injuries were from monsters, not blades.
“I had no choice if I wanted accurate information.”
His flat tone confirmed my suspicion.
This was my request for intelligence.
“Even though I’m royalty, they wouldn’t treat me. Refusing to heal a prince—despite the temple’s involvement—that’s unusual. That’s when I knew you were right.”
So he’d cut himself to confirm it.
The gash wasn’t shallow. It made me ache just looking at it.
“You’re a reckless man, aren’t you?”
“I just like certainty.”
Trying to act cool, again.
I pressed the herbs hard onto his wound—just to make a point. His leg twitched slightly in pain.
“Is it supposed to hurt this much?”
“Yes. Pain means it’s healing. Bear with it.”
“…If I must.”
Watching him close his eyes in resignation, I couldn’t help but chuckle.
Then I added one last thing, for the idiot who hurt himself:
“If you get injured like this again, your wife waiting at home will be heartbroken.”
