A Fortune-telling Princess

As Arena’s tone climbed higher every time Camilla opened a box, it was obvious the medicinal herbs in front of her weren’t ordinary.

“I already have a lot of medicinal herbs at home.”

The Duke of Sorpel and the rest of the family were already in the middle of gathering every medicinal herb on the continent.

And once word spread that she’d collapsed, other noble houses trying to build ties had been sending anything and everything they claimed was “good for the body.”

“It’s a father-in-law’s love for his daughter-in-law.”

“Yes?”

“Medicinal herbs are better the more you have, so take them with you.”

...It felt like she’d just heard something weird again.

“I’ll enjoy them.”

Yeah. Take care of your body first. No matter what happens later, she’d need to be healthy, wouldn’t she? So she could swing a blade one more time if she had to.

...Damn it.

To think she’d live long enough to be worrying about having to wield a sword.

As the reality of it hit her all over again, a short sigh slipped out of Camilla’s mouth.

Chapter. Juella Bakes

“Oh my, that necklace is new, isn’t it?”

“I just got it recently. From the Ghost Trading House.”

“Really? I wanted to get one too!”

“I also bought a Video Stone printer from the Ghost Trading House this time.”

“My goodness! Could I take a look?”

“Of course.”

Camilla flashed a full-on sales smile at the young noble ladies who’d shown up wearing accessories sold by the Ghost Trading House, like they were begging to be noticed.

Right. Every one of them was a precious customer.

“Everything looks so good on you.”

Unlike before, when she rarely ever accepted invitations even if she received them, Camilla had been attending social gatherings frequently lately.

That didn’t mean she went to everything. She had one—and only one—standard.

Holy relic necklaces.

She only accepted invitations from families who had purchased that necklace.

And the place she’d come to today was—

“Camilla, want something to drink?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

—Count Bakes’s estate, Juella’s family.

Because she’d obtained information that her house had purchased a holy relic necklace as well.

“Your hair came out so pretty again today.”

You work so hard every time. Even though your eyes are still full of displeasure.

The way she tried her hardest to force a bright smile had gotten pitiful at this point.

Well, not my problem.

For now, she’d already achieved today’s objective.

She’d seen Juella’s parents—the Count and Countess Bakes—and the one wearing the holy relic necklace was the father, Count Bakes.

He still looked fine for now. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

The color was a vivid red, and there didn’t seem to be any unusual signs.

But the problem was what came next. She was stuck wondering how to make sure he couldn’t keep wearing that necklace.

Was there any good method?

Should I actually start selling those fake jade mattresses?

It was something she’d snapped out in anger before, but thinking about it now, it seemed like a decent ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) approach.

Without publicly exposing the truth of the holy relic necklaces, she could still make people naturally stop looking for them so much.

“I prepared a small gift for everyone, so could you wait just a moment?”

After quite some time, Juella rose from her seat and hurried outside.

It was practically a custom—common courtesy—for a host to prepare a small gift for the guests.

And the fact that she went to fetch it herself instead of sending a maid or servant made everyone give her warm, gentle smiles.

“I’ll be right back.”

To escape the people who wouldn’t stop talking for even a second, Camilla also headed out for a bit. She figured she’d take a quick walk through the garden.

She’d caught a glimpse earlier— the garden was gorgeous. If she killed a little time, the gathering would probably be winding down, right?

[So it really is that holy relic necklace that’s the problem, isn’t it?]

As soon as she left the gathering room, Arena—the priest’s ghost who’d followed her all the way here—spoke to her.

Arena had noticed that lately, Camilla was only visiting people who’d bought holy relic necklaces.

“Do you feel something from that necklace?”

She remembered how displeased Arena had looked at the holy relic necklace the Pope wore at the Harvest Prayer Festival.

Maybe only someone with immense holy power like Arena could sense something from it.

[Nothing at all.]

“Then why do you hate holy relic necklaces so much?”

[Because that bastard called the Pope only ever thinks about making money, and it pisses me off.]

Well... if the Pope and the other priests couldn’t sense anything particularly strange from the Crimson Stone either, that explained why they wore it around their necks.

Remembering that the Pope himself had worn one, Camilla nodded.

She wanted to know who had first suggested selling those necklaces, but she couldn’t exactly ask outright.

Wasn’t there some way to find out without being obvious?

“Then why do you keep following me around these days?”

[Why would I?]

Arena’s eyes went round, like Camilla was asking something absurd.

[Because I’m bored.]

...Ah. Right.

After she’d gleefully worked off the grudge of not being able to talk for so long by sticking to Zeno nonstop, it looked like she’d started getting bored again.

Camilla didn’t particularly mind her following along.

[You didn’t skip the Snowflower Fruit in the morning, did you? You have to make sure you eat it on time, every time. It’s perfect for a kid with weak stamina like you.]

Arena knew a lot, so she’d been genuinely helpful.

[I got my hands on that once before too, and those X bastards jacked up the price like crazy. That XX, that XX bastard!]

...It was just that her completely unfiltered mouth was the problem.

“Didn’t I tell you before? Not to walk around with your head held high in front of me. You filthy thing with no idea where you even came from.”

But whose unfiltered voice was this?

Not long after stepping into the garden, a low male voice bored straight into her ears.

And she knew who it belonged to almost immediately. She’d spotted two people standing not far away.

One was Juella Bakes, who’d just left to fetch the gifts.

And that man...

The other was Mantiz Bakes—Juella’s older brother, and the heir of House Bakes.

He was someone Camilla remembered. She’d run into him a few times at parties.

But what the hell was he saying? Did she mishear that just now?

“Just do the job Father told you to do. And stay out of my business.”

“But Father told me to make sure you greet Lady Sorpel today—”

“Don’t you talk back to me again!”

Mantiz lifted his hand immediately. As if she was used to it, Juella raised her arm and covered her face first.

SMACK!

“Keuk!”

But the pained groan burst out of Mantiz’s mouth, not Juella’s.

“What—what the hell?!”

Mantiz, struck in the head by something, snapped his head around. Who the hell would dare—

“Oh my! I’m so sorry. So it was you, Lord Mantiz.”

But when he saw who it was, his eyes went wide.

“Lady Sorpel?”

Because Camilla stood there with a single shoe in her hand, wearing an extremely apologetic expression.

“I thought Miss Juella was being threatened by someone.”

Even as she kept spitting out apologies, she didn’t let go of the pointed high heel clenched in her hand.

“It seems you’ve misunderstood. I would never lay a hand on my younger sister.”

“Of course.”

“We simply disagreed, and our voices got a little raised.”

With the faintest smile, Mantiz lightly patted Juella’s shoulder.

“Sorry. I got carried away and raised my voice. We’ll talk again later.”

“...Yes, Brother.”

She forced a smile onto her face, too.

“Then I’ll be going.”

Mantiz gave Camilla a small bow, then quickly left.

“Hm.”

It didn’t hurt as much as you’d think, right? Since she didn’t know the exact situation, she’d hit him with the flat side instead of the pointed tip.

“......”

“......”

After he left, neither Camilla nor Juella spoke first.

The sound of leaves rustling in the wind filled the space between them.

“Did you hear everything?”

In the end, Juella broke the silence first.

“More or less.”

A long sigh spilled from her mouth.

“That man never had any intention of hiding it in the first place. If he had any sense, he wouldn’t run his mouth like that on a day with this many guests.”

As if her legs had given out, Juella dropped heavily against a nearby tree. After letting out one sigh after another, she slowly raised her head and looked at Camilla.

“It’s exactly what you heard.”

“......”

“I’m not blood of this house.”

She continued in a flat voice, like she was talking about someone else.

Apparently, this house originally had a daughter. But the child died the moment she was born, and as the Countess Bakes fell into despair, she spotted a baby abandoned by the roadside.

“I took that dead child’s place.”

The Count and Countess made sure no one knew the truth. They raised her as their real daughter.

If the Countess hadn’t given birth to another daughter a few years later, Juella would’ve remained their precious daughter all the same.

“When I was little, I couldn’t understand why I was treated differently.”

At first, she told herself it was because her younger sister was young. Like people said, affection naturally went downward—of course a younger child would get more love.

She told herself the same about her brother. He was the older brother, the eldest son who would inherit the house—of course. She soothed herself like that and kept living.

And then the three children accidentally overheard their parents whispering in secret.

“They all found out I was a kid they picked up.”

After that, Mantiz looked at her like she was a bug, and her younger sister, Kayrin, also made a habit of looking down on her.

Even her parents, as if they no longer felt any need to hide it, grew harsher and harsher in the way they treated her.

“Haa.”

After finishing her story, another long sigh escaped Juella’s mouth.

Even she didn’t fully understand why she was telling Camilla all of this.

“That’s why I hated you so much.”

“......”

What kind of absurd conclusion was that?

Camilla kept looking at her without answering.

“Because when I looked at you, it felt like I was looking at myself.”

Always cowering before family, constantly watching other people’s eyes—yet still clinging to your pride, getting furious and snapping back with everything you had.