Chapter 31
“The Empire relies heavily on maritime trade with other countries. Many citizens depend on affordable imported goods produced by the cheaper labor of other kingdoms. If trade were halted, a large number of imperial citizens would struggle to survive. Even if a law is proclaimed, it won’t be accepted immediately. In fact, it may only increase smuggling.”
The goal of counterarguments wasn’t about right or wrong. Nor did she want to earn the animosity of the previous speaker.
“Of course, like you said, I also believe thorough inspections before shipments are necessary. Maritime crime is rising steadily, and the number of unregistered ships is increasing.”
Viscount Lopez crossed his arms.
“Then, Lady, how do you propose we solve this issue?”
“There’s a simple method. We engrave identifiable marks on all ships.”
Until now, the Empire managed ships using documentation like ship logs and port entry declarations. But documents were easily forged and slow to verify.
There was, however, something that couldn’t be forged: the ships themselves.
“What if we assign each ship a unique number and engrave it on the stern, both sides of the hull, and even inside? That way, even if the exterior number is erased, the internal number can still identify it.”
This mirrored a system even used in modern times—known as IMO ship numbering.
Viscount Lopez pulled out scrap paper and started taking rapid notes.
“A brilliant insight. If we record the ship’s type, size, and tonnage along with the number, it will be even harder to falsify.”
As impressed as he was, his writing hand moved even faster.
Meanwhile, Müller voiced a concern.
“My thoughts differ slightly. There’s bound to be resistance to introducing a new system.”
Another secretary agreed.
“Even if the numbering itself is distributed for free, engraving it with magic stones will incur inevitable costs. How do you plan to fund it?”
Viscount Lopez was focused on policy creation, while these two worked in the field—giving them different perspectives.
She nodded.
“That’s a valid point. So I propose collecting a ‘ship engraving tax,’ and in return offering tax deductions and marine insurance benefits.”
Müller blinked in surprise.
“Insurance? What’s that?”
“It’s a system that compensates damages when a ship is involved in an accident. As you know, the sea is full of risks.”
She gave a brief explanation of modern insurance.
“Indeed… It would be a safety net for commoners whose ship is their entire fortune. But wouldn’t the royal family take a loss if they had to compensate for every accident?”
Paying out every time a ship crashed was too dangerous.
People here were no fools.
‘If I just throw out a half-baked policy, someone will definitely abuse it. They might even sink a perfectly good ship for insurance money.’
“That’s why we’ll thoroughly vet documents during insurance enrollment—checking for illegal modifications, cargo types, crew numbers, voyage plans. In case of accidents, we’ll investigate and deny or reduce compensation if there are discrepancies.”
Müller looked up quickly.
“So… people will write everything accurately just to qualify for the insurance.”
“Exactly. We’ll be able to gather information on all cargo shipments in exchange for future compensation.”
Shipwrecks aren’t actually that frequent. It just feels like they are because each one is serious.
“With this method, we can catch illegal ships without even needing additional funding.”
“Truly… it’s an incredible proposal. You approached the issue from an angle I never considered.”
Even Müller was convinced.
“To be honest, I did have a prejudice against you, Lady. I’m ashamed. I didn’t expect you to have such foresight…”
Viscount Lopez was impressed too.
“You’re a fool. I knew she had it in her,” Pell mumbled, trying to gain credit—though no one paid attention.
Viscount Lopez brought out a fresh sheet of paper and leaned toward her.
“I’d like to discuss this proposal in more detail. Would you have a moment?”
There was a fervor in his gaze—bordering on obsession.
Others showed similar reactions.
‘No wonder they’re the male lead’s aides… They’re all workaholics.’
Even before the curse activated, similar things happened. Like the time she tried to abolish collective punishment and was trapped in meetings for days.
‘Honestly, it’s a pain…’
Still, there was a reason she didn’t walk away.
‘This one is bound to succeed.’
She hoped this policy would help ease her curse.
Naturally—
“I’m always available.”
There was no way she could refuse.
* * *
The meeting lasted until evening. It mostly consisted of them asking questions while she applied her modern knowledge.
“So we can reduce the royal family’s burden through joint contributions?”
“We’ve learned so much today.”
Asel’s aides were in awe. But she started to worry.
‘Did I just teach them too much about the rotten parts of modern society…?’
Still, she seemed to be the only one with such concerns.
“You’re leaving already?”
“There’s still so much more to learn…”
“Ah, I have someone I need to meet,” she replied.
It was nice having people listen so earnestly—but their constant questions were exhausting.
Her throat was dry from speaking so long.
Fortunately, Asel stepped in.
“That’s enough. It’s getting late, and you all have work piling up.”
* * *
Finally freed, she walked through the much quieter palace at night.
After a few steps, familiar messages began to flood her vision.
Successfully strengthened ship management regulations.
Number of smuggling and illegal ships will significantly decrease.
Maritime trade has been revitalized.
Related job opportunities will greatly increase.
Number of deaths from illegal drug distribution will decline.
Amid the messages, one of a different nature appeared:
Successfully prevented the death of Gepetto Luweiz.
‘So, he really was meant to be disposed of…’
Successfully altered a key turning point in history.
Curse mitigation rate calculated based on contribution.
Curse of Forgetfulness has been eased by 34%.
Someone’s memories have returned completely.
That was the final message.
She brushed away the glowing words and made her way to the underground prison on the west side of the palace.
A knight, tipped off in advance, awaited her at the bottom of the stairs. Following the foul smell and uneven stone path, she finally found the figure she was looking for.
“Come out.”
The figure, wrapped in a thin, worn blanket against the underground chill, looked up.
“Am I… being released?”
“…For now.”
If they left Gepetto in prison too long, the Grand Duke might approach him in another way.
‘Asel said he got all the information he needed anyway.’
In short, this was a politically motivated release.
Even though the knight opened the prison door, Gepetto simply stared at her. She turned away without a word—and that was enough to make him scramble after her.
They sat together in the carriage—side by side, not looking at each other.
There was nothing to say. They were more used to growling and grabbing each other’s collars than exchanging greetings.
A curt conversation followed, solving curiosity and business at once.
“I didn’t expect you to help me.”
And—he actually called her “sister.”
Gepetto, who always called her “hey,” “you,” or worse, had used formal speech in public.
His face turned red.
“It’s not like I helped you because I like you, okay?!”
“Then why?”
“I just figured siding with you was the smart move!”
His voice cracked with frustration.
“So you decided you’d survive by backing me instead of the Second Prince.”
“Of course! Why else would I testify with a sore throat? I’d have just stayed locked up!”
She felt a strange sensation.
Gepetto, whom she thought of as foolish and reckless, had managed to avoid death with uncanny precision.
“So you agreed to the Second Prince’s request just to make yourself look better in my eyes.”
“…You’re the kind of person who really looks out for allies.”
Gepetto mumbled, lowering his head.
“I only did what I had to in order to walk out of that prison alive.”
She had no reply.
After all, Gepetto was no longer in prison—he was right there, beside her.
