Chapter 61

‘There’s no need to say everything.’

Reina was a commoner with no ties or backing.

It was obvious that proving her identity alone would take several years.

There was also the option of Damian standing as her guarantor and proving Reina’s identity to the imperial family.

But that wasn’t something he could easily recommend either.

Damian chose to explain only the latter option.

He didn’t want to bring up her family and make Reina uncomfortable for no reason.

“If you receive investment from the imperial family and succeed, you’ll gain a matching status and wealth.

But in return, you’ll be bound to the imperial family.”

“Ahh.”

“And since I’ll be the one proving your identity, the imperial family will judge your value.”

“I understand right away.

If I receive Your Grace’s investment, no one would find it strange for me to continue under the duke’s protection.”

“That’s right.”

“But what if my hypothesis is wrong, and there’s no gain, only loss?”

“That’s not something you need to worry about.

That’s a problem the investor has to bear.”

“Your Grace is right.

That’s why investors carefully judge whether something is worth investing in.”

Reina kept rubbing the back of her neck, feeling oddly uneasy.

“You and Peter are both incredibly kind.”

At Reina’s next remark, neither of them could hide their dumbfounded expressions.

“Do I look like someone who throws money away and pours tens of billions of Theon out of charity?”

“Your Grace has donated tens of billions of Theon before, but you’re not a saint who donates for the sake of one person.”

“But still.”

Peter let out a deep sigh.

“Now I understand why Reina Botn has never stood out until now.

When someone lacks confidence this badly, they don’t just get taken advantage of. They become an easy mark.”

“An easy mark….”

“Yes. An easy mark.”

Had Peter ever used such a blunt word before?

Reina found it unfamiliar.

She rolled her eyes toward Damian.

Damian silently nodded.

“…”

It meant agreement.

“Th-that….”

Reina simply…

“I’m sorry?”

She had no choice but to accept it.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“…I’m sorry for apologizing.”

Cold sweat trickled down Reina’s face.

The two men sitting across from her were stunned.

Sorry for apologizing?

In this duchy, Reina was probably the only person who apologized for a reason like that.

The more the two grown men stiffened in silence, the more Reina’s shoulders seemed to shrink.

No matter what she said now, it was obvious the atmosphere would only get heavier.

“Th-that….”

“Then let’s do this.”

Just as Reina gathered all her courage to speak, Damian spoke first.

“For the next week, unless I give permission, Reina Botn is absolutely forbidden from apologizing.”

Reina thought.

‘What even is that supposed to mean.’

But a servant couldn’t talk back to her master’s decision.

Reina simply nodded and said she understood.

At the time, Reina thought,

‘That doesn’t sound too hard.’

* * *

“….”

It was hard.

Painfully hard.

Taking care of Bonita’s mornings and watching over Estelle, Reina was sure she wouldn’t last even three days of the week.

No, even three days was being generous to herself.

“This is exhausting….”

She looked up at the clouds drifting slowly across the sky.

Since they were in the greenhouse, the pillars supporting the glass ceiling stood out more than the clouds.

Dean, standing beside her, followed her gaze and looked up as well.

“What’s making things so difficult for you?”

“…My lord banned me from apologizing.”

“Apologizing?”

“Yes. Not the apple you eat. The kind you say.”

Hearing that, Dean nodded, thinking that Reina really did apologize more often than most people.

“I think I almost apologized about twenty times already today.”

“At that point, it’s a habit.”

“…I can’t deny that.”

Reina looked toward Estelle, who was admiring flowers in the distance.

The child was surrounded by other maids, plucking pink flowers one by one as she played.

“I didn’t realize I apologized that much.”

“Well, you could say it means you’re thoughtful.”

Dean deliberately chose kind words to comfort her.

“Sir Dean, you’re really considerate.”

“It’s nothing. Anyone would say that to you. You’re kind yourself, Reina.”

“See? You’re praising me again.”

Reina didn’t think she deserved that much praise.

She couldn’t recall doing anything particularly kind.

“Reina. Reina.”

Estelle came trotting over from afar, holding an armful of pink flowers.

“Reina, look.”

“They’re really lovely flowers.”

When Reina praised her, the child smiled shyly.

“Um, I have a favor to ask.

O-of course, you don’t have to if it’s hard for you.”

“If it’s something the young lady asks, I should grant it no matter what.”

“Then….”

Despite Reina’s gentle smile, Estelle hesitated for a long moment before asking in a tiny voice.

“Can you make me a handkerchief?”

“A handkerchief?”

“Ah, th-that is… I mean embroidery on a handkerchief.”

Her cheeks flushed red as Estelle continued shyly.

“T-the maids told me… that these days, it’s popular elsewhere to carry handkerchiefs embroidered by mothers…

And I don’t have a mom… so….”

Her voice grew smaller and smaller.

It sounded like a guilty confession.

Reina bent down to meet Estelle’s eyes.

“Then would you like a flower pattern?”

“…Huh?”

“Would you like lots of flowers?”

“N-no, just one… no, two flowers is enough. Pink….”

“Pink?”

Estelle darted her eyes around.

“And one white flower.”

Reina smiled softly at that.

“Then I’ll make a lovely white flower just like you, my lady.”

At those words, Estelle’s eyes trembled with joy.

“You’ll really do it?”

“Of course. I told you earlier.

If the young lady asks, I’ll do anything.”

At that moment, Estelle’s eyes sparkled like stars.

“Really really? It’s not a bother?”

“Really really. I can make as many as you want.”

“One is enough. I won’t lend it to anyone. I’ll keep it all to myself.”

Estelle hugged Reina tightly and shoved all the flowers she was holding into Reina’s arms.

‘Do I have thread?’

She could probably find some, but there likely wasn’t embroidery specific thread.

Reina stood back up as she watched Estelle run off to show the other maids.

“I think I’ll need to go buy materials.”

“Shall I accompany you?”

“Um, sorry….”

Reina nearly apologized out of habit again and quickly covered her mouth with one hand.

Dean’s laughter sounded beside her.

* * *

They left Estelle and Bonita with the other maids and went out with just Dean and Reina.

‘It’d be fine for Boni, but taking the young lady along would be tricky.’

If Estelle went with them, they’d need to bring several more knights and get Damian’s permission in advance.

And through that process, Reina wasn’t confident she could stop herself from apologizing.

In other words, it was a compromise with reality.

“We could’ve just asked someone else to buy them.”

“….”

Reina didn’t answer.

“Because you’d feel bad?”

Reina quietly nodded.

Dean laughed again.

It was because she was acting stubborn in a way that didn’t suit her.

“And if I wait a week, it’ll take time to finish anyway.

I might get busy again in a few days.”

Damian and Peter were moving quickly to establish a foundation for Reina’s hypothesis.

At their pace, it was entirely possible they’d secure a location and materials and start within a week.

‘More than possible.’

It might even be tomorrow.

With an unusually distant gaze, Reina stared into the air before turning toward the embroidery shop.

Clink.

As they entered, the bell on the door rang.

“It’s for the young lady. I wonder if thread sold at a place like this is good enough.”

Reina said worriedly.

“If it’s something the young lady asked for, it’ll be fine.”

“But still….”

It wasn’t that the shop was low quality.

A few years ago, it would’ve been far too nice for Reina to even step inside.

But it wasn’t quite befitting the stature of the ducal household.

“I’m just worried people might laugh at her because of me.”

“It’ll be fine. You’re skilled, Reina.”

“Mmm, I have earned money with embroidery before, but….”

Reina picked up several spools of thread, then suddenly stopped.

“Have I ever shown you my embroidery, Sir Dean?”