Chapter 25
The next morning.
I woke up with a brutal hangover.
[Drinking is all about momentum…]
Momentum, my ass.
If I drink again, I’m a dog. A dog.
“You seemed to enjoy it yesterday. Want a sip?”
Amin, sitting across from me in the carriage, calmly offered me his flask.
How can this man drink that strong liquor every day and still look so normal?
Especially last night…
I couldn’t think any further.
The smell of liquor from Amin’s flask hit my nose.
“Put that away. I might throw up.”
I replied bluntly and curled up in a corner of the carriage, trying to find a comfortable position.
I curled myself up to avoid straining my stomach and muttered with my eyes closed,
“You pervert.”
I bit my lip.
Memories of last night came flooding back behind my closed eyelids.
Even though I tried not to remember, I couldn’t stop it.
[Right? You would’ve bought it for me, right?]
[Yeah. I would’ve bought you anything.]
And with that, he lightly touched his lips to mine.
That short kiss was, how do I say it…
Sobering.
[What are you doing…?]
[Tell me if you don’t want it. But shouldn’t I get at least one chance?]
[What?]
[You stole my lips on our wedding night, remember?]
So this was his idea of being fair?
The drunken haze that had scattered suddenly started to gather again.
A man twice my size was speaking to me in a low voice right in front of my nose,
His breath tickled the tip of my nose with every word he spoke,
And I kept getting more and more intoxicated.
It wasn’t easy to stay sane in that situation.
[You’re crazy.]
[Doesn’t sound like a no.]
He smirked and swallowed my lips.
At first, he softly bit my lower lip, then his tongue slipped inside.
When I panicked and tried to pull away, his large hand gently pulled the back of my head closer.
My mind went blank.
Maybe I was breathless.
Or maybe this kiss was on a completely different level compared to the clumsy one I gave him on our first night.
I didn’t know.
I didn’t even know why this man was doing this.
All I did was cling to the nape of his neck.
‘Crazy.’
As soon as that scene—one I really didn’t want to remember—flashed through my mind, I slammed the back of my head against the carriage wall and opened my eyes.
Right in front of me was Amin, looking quite flustered.
“About last night—”
“This morning was impressive.”
I decided to change the subject as quickly as possible.
“What?”
“You negotiated with the head of the Rauta merchant group. About the investment and profit sharing for the paper factory. You got way more than I expected.”
That’s right.
Even though I was nursing a hangover, Amin Wilhelm and Yon Rauta discussed the paper factory plans.
Despite hearing about the paper factory for the first time, Amin handled the negotiation with ease as if he knew everything.
[Since the Rauta Group owns the technology to make paper, they’ll get 30% of the profits—]
[Then what about the initial investment?]
Amin brought up things I hadn’t even considered.
[They said they’ve owned a paper factory before, so they should already have wood chips and planks for printing.]
[Wood chips and planks…? That wording is a bit—]
His needlessly insulting tone toward Yon Rauta was a bit much, but whatever.
[Let’s have the Rauta Group cover the full initial investment. Including wages for skilled workers and weekly pay for loggers.]
[That’s a bit much—]
[They’ll be using land and wood from Wilhelm territory. Isn’t that reasonable? Besides, they’ll basically be getting a large warehouse in Wilhelm lands to store the paper. For a trading company, that’s a valuable asset.]
Yon Rauta couldn’t argue back and accepted Amin’s terms.
Because it meant they’d be paying proportionally for the benefits they’d gain.
“I didn’t realize the Rauta Group would profit that much. I wouldn’t have thought of that on my own.”
“Really? Just thinking about setting up a paper factory is already impressive.”
Amin took a sip from his flask and raised an eyebrow.
He then opened the window on my side of the carriage.
A cool breeze blew in, and I immediately felt better.
Gazing out at the passing birch trees, he spoke,
“I’ve seen these trees so many times, but I never thought they could be used for something different.”
His gaze shifted from the trees to me.
Those mysterious golden eyes of his quietly studied me.
“So even if you were alone, you would’ve done it. Still—”
That memory from last night came back.
Soft and warm—
Oddly comforting.
[…My hands are shaking.]
[Yeah. They always shake when I hold a sword.]
When I finally managed to pull away from the kiss, he said that.
His hand, brushing my hair aside, trembled slightly.
But he wasn’t holding a sword then, so why…
I had held his trembling hand with my own.
[I’ll make sure they don’t tremble anymore. So one day, you can bring me Walter’s wrist. And grip a sword better than that cursed one.]
He gave a crooked smile.
[That sword’s already the finest one I’ve ever had.]
I couldn’t forget his voice as he said that.
“Still, let’s do it together. I’m sure there’ll be a time when I’m absolutely necessary, Diana. So I’ll trust you too.”
Diana.
The way he said that, it didn’t feel like “Diana Isla” but the real “Diana.”
I instinctively flinched.
He smirked and leaned in, offering his cheek.
“Oh, and about last night—I have no excuse. I had something to confirm. Should’ve been more careful. Poor you, married to a brute. I probably deserve a slap, right?”
Brute, my ass.
Just a drunk lunatic.
That’s what I thought as I reached out my hand.
The carriage came to a stop.
I recalled something he said last night.
[That sword saved my life.]
[What…?]
[If it hadn’t broken, I wouldn’t have stopped.]
I saw it then.
The moment his golden eyes darkened, and the abyss hidden within.
[If it hadn’t, Walter wouldn’t have torn my shoulder—it would’ve been my heart.]
[…]
[So that sword is the finest for me, Diana.]
He had called me Diana then, too.
[It’s the sword that saved me.]
He spoke as if to a true blacksmith named Diana.
That’s why I couldn’t hold back and kissed him.
There was no poison to share this time.
And yet…
My outstretched hand grabbed the carriage door.
I glared at Amin Wilhelm, who was playfully presenting his cheek.
“Let’s just say we’re even.”
I gave and received, too.
Whatever it was.
I said that and stepped out of the carriage.
Søren greeted me with a troubled expression.
His face was pale—looked like he had a hangover, too.
“Your Highness. I-I was about to open the door for you…”
“It’s fine. But—”
Why is it so noisy?
There was a ruckus coming from behind the carriage.
“Let go! Let go of my uncle!”
“How did this brat even get here…”
A young voice mixed with the troubled voices of knights.
Drawn by curiosity, I headed that way.
I heard Amin stepping down behind me, but I didn’t look back.
Several knights were surrounding a small child with troubled looks.
“What’s going on?”
I asked, and one of the knights answered,
“Well… This kid apparently hitched a ride on the cargo wagon.”
I peered more closely at the kid surrounded by knights.
He was swinging a flimsy sword at them with fierce eyes.
“Let Uncle Johan go! I was supposed to be his successor!”
A sigh escaped from nearby.
Leon, who had just gotten off the wagon, furrowed his brows and let out a half-laugh.
“That kid is seriously…”
As Leon muttered, the boy had his sword taken away and was grabbed by the scruff of his neck, flailing in midair.
“I’m gonna be a blacksmith!”
“…Just like someone I know.”
At Leon’s words, I clenched my fist.
Søren asked Amin behind me,
“What shall we do? He caused a commotion—should we punish and send him away…?”
“Let’s ask the lady.”
Amin passed the decision to me.
He looked at me with his usual ease.
As always, I averted my gaze from his smug face and looked at the boy who claimed he wanted to be a blacksmith.
[I’m the only one who can succeed my father.]
Damn it.
Blacksmiths—no matter where—are always a headache.
I frowned at the thought and said to the struggling boy,
“He should be punished.”
At my cold tone, the boy stopped flailing.
Perhaps realizing the seriousness of the situation, fear filled his eyes.
I let out a small laugh and squatted down to his eye level.
“Work him hard in the forge. Blacksmith. Even if he cries and begs to go home, don’t let him.”
Blacksmiths are like moths to a flame.
They ruin themselves by diving into the fire with reckless devotion.
Inhaling metal dust, melting their own limbs along with the iron, and letting the heat slowly blind them.
All for fire. Fire. Fire.
I turned away, feeling like I’d just found another dumb moth.
Then I heard a mutter behind me.
“I… really became the successor?”
“You dumb brat, get up. How the hell did you get here? We need to contact your family first.”
And I heard Leon’s voice—one that now sounded a lot like my father’s.
