Chapter 27

Brigadier General Steve, who had planned all along to withdraw his funds to sabotage the business, smirked.

He had long been at odds with Massera.

‘He’s really starting exploration with the least promising mountain range? Does he actually believe there’s oil buried there? He’s digging his own grave.’

“There’s no point in clinging to this anymore.”

He said this openly and got up from his seat. He then lowered his voice so only those nearby could hear.

“It’s more likely to fail anyway. It’s obvious they’re just stalling to squeeze more money out.”

The others, who had been hesitating, also decided to pull out their investments.

Though Steve’s investment had been significant enough to cause a blow, Massera didn’t look the least bit concerned.

Meanwhile, Cynthia was laughing at them inwardly.

‘The moment will come soon when you’ll regret this so much that you’ll desperately wish to turn back time, you fools.’

***

After the banquet ended, I trailed after Massera, hesitant the whole time.

‘What should I say? Should I thank him, even if it was just an act to look like a happy couple? Or ask what his real intention is? Or tell him to stop calling me ‘Your Highness’ because it’s so cringy? But what is he even thinking, trusting me like this?’

Then he suddenly stopped, and I ended up bumping my nose against his back.

“O-Ouch.”

Massera’s eyes, the color of dusk, gazed down at me as I rubbed my nose.

“Are you planning to follow me all the way into my room?”

“Yes.”

I nodded without realizing it, and when I saw his expressionless face gradually change to a serious one, I came to my senses.

“No, I mean—I had something I wanted to say.”

“Say it, then.”

“I suddenly lost my train of thought.”

I had not yet finished gathering my thoughts. I’d originally planned to have it all straightened out once we reached his room.

“Do you have any proof besides luck? I’ve already taken your word for it and taken a risk, so I’d like some certainty.”

Massera, who usually spoke in statements, had asked a question.

‘I’m a modern person from the future, and this world is based on actual history and geography, so of course I’m right.’

Saying that would land me in a mental ward, so I decided to offer some critical information instead.

“There’s a record that mentions a ‘hidden inheritance’ left in the documents my mother passed down.”

It wasn’t a lie.

Back when I was a maid, I happened to come across a secret document from the Variessa royal family while cleaning the count’s room.

They hadn’t bothered securing it because they assumed the servants didn’t know the formal language it was written in.

…the hidden inheritance shall be passed to Princess Margarita. It has been left in a place only she could know.

Even the count didn’t seem to know exactly what it was.

But I knew that the inheritance was the oil reserves buried in the Nox region.

In fact, where I had come from, oil had been discovered in the most unlikely of mountains, thanks to an earthquake, after exploration was nearly abandoned despite spending an astronomical sum on it.

So are you really going to let go of a benefactor like me who’s saving you ten years of costs?! You’d better handle this well!

I can’t even make a show of this. It’s so frustrating.

“I think it was left for future generations because mining resources was difficult with the technology of that time.”

“What if…”

He stepped in close to me.

“...I put my complete trust in you and it all ends badly—what exactly do you plan to do then?”

Was he talking about if the development project failed? Or was he assuming I’d team up with the Queensguard family and use him?

Or maybe… when the truth is revealed that I’m a fake and not real royalty?

“I’ll apologize and say I’m sorry.”

With a glum expression, I stared down at my feet.

“And I’ll take as much responsibility as I can.”

That’s why I told him the location in the first place.

Even if the development project succeeded and he abandoned me before I could properly seduce him, I’d have no complaints as long as he let me live. Though I’d make sure to stash away some money for a quiet life.

“How?”

His breath drifted down, lightly stirring my bangs.

“I’ll work hard and compensate for the damages, or make it up to you with my body—”

Before I’d even finished speaking, I saw his boots step back in haste.

“Please refrain from saying such dangerous things in the middle of the night, especially in front of my room.”

“—by peeling onions in the kitchen or something… Wait, what?”

I raised my head and looked up at Massera.

Whenever he spoke to me, he’d make expressions he normally would not make and he was doing it again now.

“A princess shouldn’t say such things so casually.”

Again! There he goes, trying to make me cringe.

“Hey, um, I feel a bit uncomfortable being called ‘Princess’ and ‘Your Highness’.”

“Then what should I call you?”

“Maybe a sweet nickname, like Pudding or Chocolate…”

“Wouldn’t that be even more awkward and uncomfortable?”

Everything else was fine, but strangely, I felt uncomfortable being called “Princess.” Was it because it pricked at my guilt?

“Then, how about we call each other by name?”

“That feels even more unpleasant.”

Thinking that any further conversation was a waste of time, he started to head into his room.

I grabbed onto the hem of his clothes.

“Ah, wait! Mister Massera! I have something else to say!”

“Please just leave it at that, Miss Cynthia.”

That was the moment I realized calling each other by name really wasn’t going to work either.

I grabbed the doorknob as he tried to close the door and said—

“Ahh, my fingers are going to get caught in the door! Please, my hands!”

At my desperate cry, the door that had been like a wall eased just a little.

Like a charging rhino, I pressed in close and spoke through the crack in the door like a mosquito.

“Thank you for believing me, and for being on my side today…”

A brief silence fell.

Through the crack in the door, I spotted about three boxes of macarons stacked on his desk.

“Are those the macarons I bought? Did you steal them from the other officers? You’re the worst! So greedy!”

“...Enough with the thank-you's and just go already, Your Highness.”

Standing behind the door, he waved his hand like he was shooing me off, then slammed the door shut.

‘Even if that man turns out to be a regretful male lead, he’d still be like a hard diatomaceous earth bath mat. I’m not leaving until I’ve turned him into a soft, fluffy microfiber mat!’

With such determination, I turned away.

***

The next day, the kitchen at the residence was unusually quiet.

A servant returning for their shift sighed as they tied on an apron.

“See? Like they even care about us. They’re only thankful when they need something…”

Just then, another servant put a finger to their lips and urgently shushed them.

“What?”

The confused servant was startled when they saw someone.

It was because they’d spotted a woman with white hair peeking out from behind a shelf.

“What, did you see a ghost or something? Why are you so surprised?”

Cynthia asked, her eyes red and teary. For some reason, she was peeling onions.

“N-No… What I meant just now was…”

“The general must’ve really neglected you all if you’ve been holding this much in.”

“It’s not like that at all!”

The servant practically cried out, looking on the verge of tears.

Cynthia had come to the kitchen and excitedly talked about how everyone had praised the dinner banquet, and how the major general’s eyes looked a little teary when he ate the ratatou that reminded him of his father.

Tired of her endless chatter, Chef Jad had sarcastically suggested that she peel onions if she was so bored, and she actually started doing it.

“I’m serious. Major General Izak even said—”

Just as she was about to get back to rambling again, a group of soldiers burst in carrying boxes of cookies.

“This is a token of gratitude from Major General Izak for the cooks and kitchen servants. He said yesterday’s meal left a deep impression, and that he hopes to visit again.”

After the soldiers delivered the major general’s message and saluted, the group quickly filed out.

It was proof that Cynthia hadn’t taken full credit for preparing the dinner banquet.

The kitchen servants all widened their eyes in surprise.

Realizing they’d misjudged Cynthia, the servants looked sheepish until one finally stepped forward to apologize.

“I’m truly sorry for how rude I’ve been, Your Highness. I’m ashamed of myself for judging you so rashly.”

One servant’s courage sparked the others to also offer their apologies.

“If you’re sorry, help me peel these onions. They’re so strong, and there are way too many.”

At her words, the servants gathered around her and began peeling onions through their tears.

It looked like a tearful reconciliation, but really, it was just that the onions were brutally strong.

‘Yes, I’ve won over the kitchen servants too. I’m totally asking for late-night snacks now.’

Cynthia, who’d been too self-conscious to enjoy late-night snacks until now, smiled brightly.

At that moment, Dahlia entered the kitchen, her face flushed as if she had been running around for a while.

“Your Highness, here you are. You have a visitor… Why are you peeling onions in tears?”

“I peel onions when I’m sad. Anyway, who’s the visitor?”

“It’s Major Rodriguez.”