When he thought about land and buildings, Clayio felt pleased even in his sleep, and he felt full without eating.

    While Clayio was daydreaming about a rosy future, Dione slapped his back hard.

    “What are you staring at so absentmindedly? Here! Take this.”

    Dione, completely serious about her business, handed Clayio a heavy paper bag with sparkling eyes.

    Even out of courtesy, he couldn’t help but ask a few questions.

    “Is this book… really that moving?”

    “In the icy land of Isberg, there lives a blue-blooded lord in a desolate castle isolated on a distant highland. A woman is offered to him as a sacrifice….”

    “I suppose the two of them fall in love.”

    “That’s right! The cold-blooded lord Arsenie, who drinks the blood of the living, and the beautiful maiden Luminita can never be together…! I cried buckets when the finale came out last year, but this side story about their childhood is even more moving!”

    At this rate, they’d be talking about the novel all afternoon. Clayio, accepting the paper bag, cut Dione off.

    “I’ll read the rest myself. If you tell me everything, it won’t be fun to read.”

    “You have to tell me what you think after you read it! I’ve read countless novels in my life, but this is the best masterpiece ever!”

    “It must have really moved you.”

    Dione’s eyes welled up again as she dabbed at them with a handkerchief embroidered with violets.

    Walking with Dione, Clayio felt a kind of embarrassment he’d never experienced before.

    With both sides of the main street under construction, everywhere was dug up and dusty, so there were almost no pedestrians, which was a relief.

    Sundays were days off for the workers, too.

    Clayio and Dione walked between the closely built scaffolding at the De Neige Hotel site. The staff on guard recognized Dione and let them pass with friendly faces.

    Though the two, who looked quite serious, weren’t actually talking about business or the Oreils District redevelopment.

    “You can laugh at me for tearing up over a novel at my age, past twenty. Whenever I see protagonists heading toward disaster, I just can’t stand it!”

    “Reading is a good hobby. Why would I laugh at that?”

    Dione seemed to have calmed down as she spoke. After carefully wiping her damp face, she put her handkerchief back into her handbag.

    Before they knew it, they had walked halfway around the De Neige Hotel construction site.

    Even though only the foundation was finished, even a layperson could tell it would be a beautiful stone building.

    “They say the hotel is aiming to open by next year’s social season. I saw the hall’s floor plan, and it’s big enough to hold a debutante ball. In five years, the rent could be raised much higher.”

    “Ah, I’m really looking forward to it.”

    “By the way, why does the Royal Counsel want to see you?”

    “The Royal Counsel?!”

    “They said there’s something to discuss regarding a patent issue related to the mining state’s business. I saw the documents—they filed the patent application perfectly! The agent who filed it is Sir Lawrence Kinnear, the most senior among the royal legal advisors.”

    “Most senior… He must be a remarkable person?”

    “He’s been using the law as a tool on the king’s side for 25 years. They say he knows every precedent in existence. He’s a legal noble.”

    “That means it’s being treated as a royal matter rather than a mining state matter.”

    “Which makes it all the more mysterious. Why is that person acting as your patent agent? He’s so hard to meet, but he even called and insisted, so I scheduled the meeting for this afternoon. Now it’s your turn to explain what’s going on.”

    “!!!”

    If it was the mining state, there was only one thing it could be.

    .

    .

    .

    “Tiflaum-Ether-Permanent Activation Magic Formula, you say?”

    Dione repeated the long term without a single mispronunciation.

    “So that’s why the document only listed it as ‘the formula’ due to a confidentiality clause! And you expect me to believe you just happened to discover such a magic formula on a field trip?”

    “But it’s true. It was only possible thanks to the ‘Prediction’ stigma.”

    “Come on, make up a better story. How about you’re the secret child of the goddess Mnemosyne, or you learned it as a reward for saving a spirit in the King’s Forest?”

    As a true bookworm, Dione’s ways of telling someone not to lie were diverse.

    Even Clayio himself found the story hard to believe.

    ‘If Fran is a spirit, is she a spirit of revolution or something….’

    “Lady Dione, please believe me.”

    “Forget it. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve suddenly pulled something after keeping your mouth shut.”

    When the waiter approached to take their order, Dione put on a composed face as if she’d never been upset.

    The meeting with the lawyer was in the tea room of the historic Layton Hotel.

    All the seats were in booths, making it a good place for private talks, but even behind a partition, Dione stood out.

    Without asking Clayio’s opinion, she ordered ginger milk tea for him and black tea for herself, and then briefed him on the main points.

    “Patent royalties vary greatly depending on the term, method, and scope. The mining state even inquired about a full rights transfer. The amount they offered was enormous….”

    Clayio quickly cut her off, worried he might waver if he heard the amount.

    “No matter what they offer, I won’t transfer the rights. Since Tiflaum Mine is only in Albion, a monopoly is inevitable, but limit the usage rights to five years. If they need an extension, we’ll negotiate again then.”

    “Why?”

    “Dubris Mine is royal property, right? The royal counsel also wanted to meet us on a weekend, at a non-mining state location. That means the real contracting party must be Prince Melchior himself.”

    “That’s right. He’s the current regent and the only one with the authority to dispose of royal assets.”

    “Exactly.”

    Clayio lowered his voice cautiously.

    “It wouldn’t be wise for me to hand over the entire Tiflaum formula to him.”

    Dione, half-folding her fan, sparkled her eyes through the lace.

    “You’re acting on the conviction that the person you chose will be the one to cause the eclipse.”

    Though she spoke in code due to the public setting, Clayio understood her intent.

    Every king of Albion causes an eclipse at the moment of coronation. The person Clayio chose was Arthur, not Melchior.

    ‘Strictly speaking, it wasn’t me but the author who chose him….’

    If he handed over all the rights to the new material that would change the continent’s future and things went wrong, how could he recover?

    “That’s right. After the eclipse, I’ll make a proper contract. Until then, please negotiate for a royalty. Rather than a production-based settlement, even if the amount is lower, I’d prefer to receive an advance payment.”

    Tiflaum was a key strategic resource.

    If war broke out, it would be hard to collect royalties properly.

    ‘It’s wiser to get the money from Melchior now, rather than later. It’s not like I’m hurting the country.’

    “You’re truly loyal. Does the one you’re loyal to know all this?”

    “No. What’s the point of putting ideas in his head early? The timing isn’t right yet.”

    “Haha, my partner is fair to everyone. Knowing you don’t treat only me that way, I feel a bit better.”

    Since there were many things he’d put off explaining with the excuse of telling her later, Dione’s words carried some weight.

    Clayio just pretended not to notice and turned the topic back to business.

    “Lady Dione, about your commission for this deal….”

    “Hmm, I’ll just charge you for the paperwork. Just 1%. Total service, right?”

    He looked at Dione with suspicion.

    “Thank you, but why?”

    “Geez, don’t you trust people! Remember that little three-story bookstore we stopped by in the Oreils District?”

    “Yes.”

    “That’s mine. After you gave me the tip, I poured my soul into buying it. After that, I just had the building repaired. It looks pretty good now.”

    Dione’s building was across the street from the land Clayio had bought.

    He wondered when she’d managed to secure her own share while helping him with his business.

    “…You’re truly astute, Lady Dione. I’ll gratefully accept your kindness this time.”

    .

    .

    .

    He tried to stay calm, but Clayio’s eyes wouldn’t stop shaking.

    ‘7.8 million dinars. Is it okay to squeeze this much…?’

    Of course, in the previous draft, Fran boasted that the formula she’d established would be the greatest scientific achievement of the century.

    But since Clayio couldn’t even explain how the formula was created, he felt uneasy even as he accepted the enormous, cheerfully signed promissory note.

    ‘Well, if they’re offering, I’m not going to refuse.’

    Even having seen it himself, he couldn’t believe Dione’s negotiation skills.

    Facing off against the sharp-eyed, white-bearded old gentleman without losing ground, Dione managed to secure that sum as the usage fee for five years.

    While they debated, even referencing a 72-year-old precedent about the originality of a beehive pattern raised by a beekeeper, Clayio didn’t get a chance to speak.

    “As I’ve heard, Lady Dione is truly astute. Someone like you shouldn’t be taken by the mages, but brought into Mellory Inn.”

    Mellory Inn was Albion’s top law school, and one had to graduate and complete training there to qualify as a lawyer.

    “Lord Kinnear, if you find me a generous law firm to train at, I’ll enroll in Mellory Inn right now.”

    “Hoho, I’ll keep that in mind. Now, let me make a call and finalize everything. Sir Swain will stay here.”

    While he went to make a call, probably to report to Melchior, Swain Temple, the strong knight who’d escorted the old gentleman, greeted Clayio.

    Since their bad first meeting during summer vacation, getting involved in the monster incident, and coming to guard the door of Mnemosyne, Clayio was now quite familiar with Swain.

    “I heard you still haven’t fully recovered your health. Is it alright for you to be out like this?”

    “You know as well as I do that ether depletion isn’t a fatal illness, Sir Knight.”

    “Unlike me, Sir Clayio is….”

    Swain, with his enviably sturdy muscles and large frame, hesitated, unsure how to describe Clayio’s frail physique without offending him.

    Seeing this, Dione, sipping the last of her tea, laughed softly.

    Clayio wrapped things up.

    “Thank you for your concern. But I’m fine.”

    “Are you sure?”

    “Why wouldn’t I be?”

    “But I heard….”

    The steadfast knight looked back and forth between Dione and Clayio, hesitating.

    Perceptive as ever, Dione excused herself to the powder room.

    “…His Highness the Second Prince has ordered an investigation into you, Sir Clayio. You should be careful.”

    “That’s probably news everyone in high society knows. What could possibly happen to me, holed up at school? It’ll blow over.”

    He wondered what was new about such an old rumor, but seeing the genuine concern, he answered sincerely.

    ‘If even an ordinary knight like him knows, can you really call it an investigation? Isn’t it more like shouting into a megaphone, asking what I do?’

    “It’s not something to take lightly. One of my peers trained with the second prince as a child… This isn’t widely known, but….”

    He’d already sent a modified assassin to kill his own brother, so what kind of twist could there be?

    But,

    There was a twist.

    “A taste for blood, you say?”

    “As a child, small animals were the victims, and as he grew, it was cavalry horses. They say it was due to accidents, but the horses presented to the royal family aren’t the type to run wild so easily.”

    Clayio’s face twisted in shock.

    ‘They say serial killers start by killing small animals as kids, and then their targets escalate…’

    “Since coming of age and making a name for himself as a knight and swordsman, there’ve been no more stories of voiceless animals… but someone who’s stained their sword with innocent blood once doesn’t stop so easily. Some knights believe so.”

    “Thank you for telling me. I’ll be… especially careful.”

    “Whew, I hope I haven’t burdened you with unnecessary worries.”

    “Not at all.”

    The lawyer returned between the knight and mage, both with serious faces. Dione returned at the same time, and the entire contract was wrapped up in no time.

    Now that the way to process tiflaum was open, there was nothing to do but make the most of it.

    After finishing all the procedures and packing up the documents, Lawrence pulled out a stiff business card and handed it over.

    “Well then, I’ll take my leave. If you have anything to convey to His Highness Melchior, or any questions, just call me.”

    Behind the name “Royal Legal Advisor Lawrence Kinnear” was a short number.

    “Understood. Thank you.”

    “I’m delighted, as contracts concluded so smoothly are rare. I suppose I’ll have to pop some champagne with you, young master.”

    “On my way back from the call, I asked the attendant to bring a bottle of Ekarlarte rosé champagne. I hope it suits your taste.”

    “I’m glad to see you’re a man of leisure, Lord Kinnear.”

    While Dione and Kinnear exchanged pleasantries without a drop of sincerity, Clayio was completely lost in thought.

    ‘Did the author really give such an extreme “serial killer” trait to a prince of the realm? Aslan is Arthur’s enemy, but even he has his own justifications and goals.’

    Note