NOVEL WEB Chapter 58
Although this was our first time meeting face-to-face, Genevra Golbro and I sat across from each other, sipping tea like old friends.
Neither the archduke nor Bonita had accompanied me, as Genevra did not permit unverified visitors. Still, I didn’t feel particularly unsafe.
After all, getting here wasn’t difficult—Golbro’s side had even sent a dedicated teleportation scroll for my convenience.
However…
‘I have no idea what she’s thinking.’
Considering her dislike for wasting time, I got straight to the point the moment I sat down, explaining the reason for my visit.
I also shared my opinion that forming ties with the Ambrose Trading Company would be beneficial for Golbro as well.
Contrary to my expectations, she didn’t give me an immediate answer. Instead, she asked a question.
“So, you’re suggesting that our Golbro Trading Company provide escort personnel for the Ambrose Trading Company?”
“Yes. Ideally, establishing a regular trade route would be advantageous for both sides.”
With Ambrose’s extensive distribution network spanning the continent, personnel movement would become far more efficient.
I was sure Golbro’s side had been waiting for such an opportunity.
‘Then why?’
Why was Genevra merely fiddling with her teacup, looking somewhat uncomfortable?
Unable to endure the awkward silence, I spoke again.
“Is there something else you’d like in return?”
I had framed my request as a personal favor, but if she was viewing it as an official business proposal, her reaction made some sense.
Yet, once again, Genevra’s response deviated entirely from my expectations.
“It’s not about conditions.”
“…Pardon?”
“I’m… hurt.”
“…Cough! Cough!”
The lukewarm tea I had just swallowed went down the wrong way, and I nearly choked.
Not wanting to embarrass myself in front of a new acquaintance, I fought back my coughing fit and raised my head.
“You’re… hurt?”
What in the world was she talking about?
I couldn’t help but voice my bewilderment.
“Miss Salt.”
Genevra gazed at me with sorrow in her light brown eyes, her flower-like face shadowed with disappointment.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you… what?”
If I were a man, I might have mistaken this for a lovers’ quarrel. That’s how heartbroken she sounded.
Then, she finally revealed the reason.
“There’s a widespread rumor that Regarding ‘The Safety Rules for Writing Horror Stories’ was published in the Blaire Archduchy.”
“W-Well, that’s true.”
“And there’s also word that the genius behind this sensational work is a woman.”
No way.
I instinctively glanced at the towering bookshelf behind her, my throat going dry.
“From the start, I could sense your presence all over this comic book business, Miss Salt.”
“…Excuse me?”
Surely, she didn’t mean that literally. It’s not like I had physically marked the books with my scent.
Which meant she was referring to something else—something far more dangerous.
“Lady Golbro…”
“Do you have any idea how many letters I’ve exchanged with you? I know exactly how you build up your introductions before getting to the main point.”
Her sharp, knowing gaze gleamed with certainty.
“The way the story develops… it confirmed my suspicions even further.”
Genevra was one of the few people who knew I was residing in the Blaire Archduchy, having previously lent manpower for a dam construction project.
Given that, it would have been stranger if she hadn’t suspected me in this matter.
“Well, the thing is… I didn’t mean to keep it from you.”
To be honest, I had simply been too preoccupied with the chaos in my life to think about it. And Genevra was nothing if not meticulous.
I hurried to offer a half-hearted excuse.
“Besides, my involvement in this business is supposed to be a secret…”
Not that I had ever made a particular effort to keep it that way.
Still, it was better if the people in Salt remained unaware—not only that I was alive and well but that I was running a business in Kletan, an enemy nation.
“Ahem.”
I cleared my throat and leaned slightly forward, meeting Genevra’s sulking gaze.
“It was too risky to say anything in writing. And, honestly… I didn’t expect you to have such a deep interest in comic books.”
Trailing off, I swept my eyes over the towering bookshelf once more.
Now that I looked closely, it wasn’t just the main volumes of Regarding The Safety Rules for Writing Horror Stories —there were special editions, limited-run prints, and even sealed collector’s items neatly arranged in pristine condition.
That was all the proof I needed.
Her love for comic books was undeniable.
“I truly didn’t know.”
I softened my gaze slightly, conveying a hint of regret.
Fortunately, it seemed Genevra had no intention of holding onto her resentment for long. Her expression eased as she lifted her teacup again.
“Well, now you do know.”
Her gaze flicked toward me.
“Right?”
Her words were practically an invitation—she was waiting for me to make an offer.
Genevra was not someone easily swayed by money or power.
The only reason she had agreed to meet me today was because she valued the trust we had built over time.
And what would someone like her want…?
‘She already has everything.’
She was so wealthy that money practically rotted in her hands, and she had already collected every possible comic-related item.
Even the Ghost Duke Edition tumblers, which had been limited to just 100 pieces, were displayed on her shelves—not one, but three.
‘If Baron Pavron saw this, he’d lose his mind.’
In fact, not just him—anyone who had been desperately hunting for those tumblers would be beating their chest in despair.
Regardless, this confirmed one thing beyond a doubt.
Genevra was completely obsessed with our comics.
“Lady Golbro.”
I let a slow, knowing smile spread across my lips.
It was time to play my trump card.
“I would love to introduce you to Her Majesty, the Empress of the Kletan Empire.”
“Hah… I’m not particularly interested in making connections beyond my means—”
“No.”
I interrupted her before she could refuse.
“Not as a political acquaintance.”
She blinked.
“But as a fellow fan. A devoted reader of Regarding Safety Rules for Writing Horror Stories.”
“Ah.”
“You must already be aware, Lady Golbro. Just how active Her Majesty has been in promoting Duke’s Horror Manor.”
Genevra’s expression remained composed at a glance, but if I looked closely, I could see the subtle twitch at the corner of her lips.
She knew.
She knew that the empress of Kletan was the most enthusiastic fan and contributor to the fandom.
‘Gotcha.’
There was a certain madness that only devoted fans shared.
I had played my hand correctly, and I was sure of my victory.
(Tl Note :- I think I Should Change ‘Safety Rules for Writing Horror Stories’ to ‘Safety rules for duke’s haunted manor’ iam a little confused so pls comment and tell me )
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“Hmm, Lady Golbro is a well-respected and highly trusted noblewoman in her circle… Ah, no, this isn’t right!”
April had been carefully writing her letter, but suddenly shook her head and crumpled the paper.
Whoosh!
Ian—no, Kayan, who was wearing his transformation ring—pretended not to notice as the ball of paper arced through the air and landed on the floor.
“Ugh, this introduction letter feels way too cliché.”
Muttering to herself, she clutched her head, then suddenly glanced around as if struck by a thought.
Ahem.
Moments later, she quietly stood up after spotting Bonita dozing off in the corner.
Not wanting to trouble her maid, she picked up the discarded letter herself, tossed it into the trash, and returned to her seat without a word.
‘How peculiar.’
Such behavior was rare among the typically arrogant royals.
Of course, April had spent years handling Lemeia’s affairs and had never been fully recognized as a princess, which set her apart.
Kayan briefly observed her, but then reminded himself that scrutinizing his charge in this way was not part of his duty as Ian. He turned his head away with deliberate indifference.
And yet, he couldn’t help it.
It had been about three months since he had inadvertently become April’s bodyguard.
From what he had seen as her ‘knight,’ one thing was clear—she was a person to keep a close eye on.
Not only did she constantly attract trouble, but despite her complaints, she would always end up taking responsibility for things herself.
A textbook example of someone whose actions contradicted their words—claiming reluctance while her body moved on its own.
If he were to evaluate her purely as a ‘protection target,’ that would be the whole assessment. But…
‘It’s not an unpleasant sight.’
What he didn’t realize was that, as his subjective judgment crept in more and more, a faint, unfamiliar smile had formed on his lips as he kept finding his gaze drawn to the back of her round head.