Chapter 96
At the voice loud enough to make his ears ring, Smith grimaced and said:
“I didn’t command an answer.”
“I… I sincerely apologize.”
The deeply bowing aide knew that what had just slipped from Smith’s lips was merely a self-directed mutter.
He simply couldn’t bear the silence.
Looking down at the aide with displeasure, Smith asked:
“Is that all?”
“I am deeply sorry.”
The aide answered while shrinking his neck like a turtle, and Smith openly clicked his tongue.
“Tsk.”
Without another word, he dismissed the aide with a jerk of his chin, and the aide hurriedly left the room.
Left alone, Smith didn’t even bother to look through the documents his aide had piled up.
The foolish aide, whose fear of him was plainly visible, wouldn’t have abbreviated the contents of the documents in his rambling.
There was one reason Smith hadn’t erupted in anger at the aide’s sloppy investigation:
He hadn’t expected anything to begin with.
In truth, he had already entrusted the investigation of the suspicious group to information brokers with some influence in the back alleys.
Of course, the Imperial Family had departments responsible for such matters, but they reported directly to the Emperor.
Smith stroked his chin and glanced at the stack of documents the aide had handed over.
The useless information his aide had gathered would likely be the image those suspicious groups wanted to project externally.
“Hmm, I wonder what results the shadow will bring.”
Having also ordered Jane to gather information, his expectations were quite high.
The shadow itself was merely a tool, but the information it would bring back about Bolshevik would be genuine.
However, a “shadow” was just that—a shadow—and couldn’t step forward to instigate various affairs.
So if Jane successfully brought back plausible information, it would mean he could manipulate information within Bolshevik according to his intentions in some way.
“That’s impossible.”
But Smith soon shook his head.
If Bolshevik were a place easily manipulated by a mere shadow’s information, he wouldn’t have failed to become the most likely Crown Prince candidate just because Riina claimed to love someone.
Rubbing his furrowed brow as if his head ached, Smith’s gaze turned toward the Second Prince’s palace.
‘Neither will you.’
Einar’s voice declaring he would never become Crown Prince echoed too clearly in his ears.
“Soon-to-be-dead bastard.”
Crunch.
Grinding his teeth to the point of breaking while looking up at the top, Smith couldn’t bear it and jumped to his feet.
His swift steps toward the door gradually slowed and eventually stopped completely.
He took a step forward from that spot, then retreated, repeating this several times.
“There’s nothing to gain by moving now.”
Rationally, he knew this very well.
To “directly” gather information about the urgent matter of the suspicious foreign group, he would need to pound the pavement here and there.
Moreover, it wasn’t a matter that could be resolved just by legwork.
He would need to mingle among people, listen to their conversations, and make them open up.
But unlike Einar, he had never engaged in such acts as frivolously darting around the Empire, discarding princely dignity to mingle with commoners, nor did he intend to.
So even if he went out directly, obtaining information would be a distant goal.
Though he had reached an extremely rational conclusion, Smith eventually stepped outside.
He couldn’t bear to simply sit in the palace waiting for someone to bring him information.
Around the time Smith was leaving his palace.
Riina was intently staring down at a single document.
While there were many documents requiring her approval, only this one had caused her pen to stop.
“The possibility of suspicious elements mixed among foreign merchant groups…”
Riina recalled what had happened at the place where foreign merchant groups had gathered to prepare for departure, as she had been looking for worthy goods or merchants to invest in.
“There was definitely something strange. Previously, it even led to a border dispute.”
It had happened before her regression, and in the end, she had cleaned up the mess while Smith had taken the credit.
But before her regression, these things hadn’t surfaced.
Even as Bolshevik’s heir, she had only been contacted and begun the cleanup after the border dispute had already started.
Of course, around this time before her regression, she had been obsessed with Smith, but she had been equally obsessed with handling matters perfectly.
It wasn’t as if someone had casually mentioned this information, and there was no way she would have simply passed over a document that had explicitly come into her hands requiring her signature.
“Come to think of it, this document didn’t exist before. Who submitted this?”
Knock, knock.
Looking for the author, Riina answered the knock with her nose still buried in the document.
“Come in.”
After her permission, a considerable time passed without any sign of movement, and Riina suddenly realized something.
This wasn’t the first time such a situation had occurred.
As she slowly raised her head, her eyes fell on Einar, who was leaning against the doorframe, just as she had expected.
“Einar, what are you doing there?”
“You seemed so focused.”
After calmly offering this plausible answer, he added:
“It would have been a shame to miss the moment of seeing you swaying amidst mountains of documents.”
Having casually tapped Riina’s heart, Einar approached before she could say anything.
“You looked serious. Should I wait a bit longer?”
“N…no. You’ve come at a good time.”
“Oh?”
Riina handed him the document she had been examining as he tilted his head.
After quickly scanning the document Riina had handed him, Einar’s head tilted a bit more.
“This is.”
“Do you have any thoughts on it?”
“Ah, I brought this up when the princes gathered. I knew what I said would spread, but I didn’t expect it to be this fast.”
Before Einar could ask if Bolshevik’s information network was this efficient, Riina shook her head.
“It’s not usually this fast. It’s not as if the Imperial Palace deliberately spread the information.”
“That’s right. His Majesty always wants such matters handled quietly.”
To knowingly spread information that His Majesty wouldn’t approve of.
What on earth was he thinking…
“You mentioned there was a border dispute where you learned various things.”
“You… remembered that?”
Einar smiled slightly and casually remarked:
“I couldn’t possibly forget anything you’ve said.”
At the sweet sincerity that flowed out as easily as pulling a candy from a pocket, Riina’s mouth went dry.
“So I released the information to resolve it in advance. I released it at the princes’ gathering, so each will act accordingly, and when the princes move, His Majesty will take notice.”
Einar had never once thought of monopolizing the information to elegantly resolve the suspicious groups and gain merit.
Unlike Smith, “merit” wasn’t important to him.
His sole priority was resolving the issue.
“Even if this problem became serious enough to cause a dispute, I would never send you to a dangerous place, but it’s certainly better to prevent the dispute from occurring at all.”
Riina finally realized his intention from his answer.
The intention behind his act that went against the Emperor’s wishes…
Words that no nobleman would dare utter rose to the tip of her tongue.
Are you insane?
To release information against the Emperor’s will, just for her sake.
Hadn’t he said he would prevent the Third Prince from ascending to the position of Crown Prince?
Yet for her sake alone.
“I didn’t want to leave even the slightest possibility that you might be in danger.”
Riina’s heart ached at his sincere words, delivered with a calm smile.
That’s why she wanted to step away from him.
I want to lean on him. If I just rely on him, I could easily obtain freedom.
With his luck, which rivaled her misfortune, it wouldn’t be difficult.
It was a prediction as sweet as something that would melt your tongue.
But until when?
The prerequisite for easily obtained freedom was “Einar.”
How long will you stay by my side?
How long can I stay by yours?
If you disappear in the future that hasn’t come yet, what will become of me then?
The petty truth she couldn’t bring herself to tell Einar.
Her desire to gain freedom through her own strength, to stand straight and walk on her own feet, wasn’t out of some grand self-improvement or noble self-growth.
She was just… tired.
“…ina. Riina. Are you alright?”
Einar, who had somehow drawn close enough for their noses to almost touch, was examining her.
Too close.
The moment she felt this, Einar stepped back and asked:
“It’s Smith, isn’t it?”
At the sudden mention of that thoroughly unwelcome name, Riina’s brow furrowed.
“What?”
As Einar stared at her furrowed brow, his fingers itched to smooth it out, but he restrained himself and spoke:
“The one who stabbed this information into Bolshevik. And there must still be someone within Bolshevik who listens to him.”
“Ah.”
Someone who listens to the Third Prince…
After rechecking the document’s author, Riina tilted her head with an ambiguous expression.
The author’s name was blank.
This was a document coming to her, who oversees all family affairs.
Even if submitted with such a poorly filled form, it would have been returned by someone before reaching her.
Then ultimately, the person who last handled this document must be the same as the author.
And the person who brought her this document was none other than:
“Jane.”
