Chapter 13
The Count's gaze was sharp enough to pierce through Brian.
"Count Brunn. This repulsive pervert has been spying on me and my people."
"Grand Duchess! This is entirely my negligence!"
Count Brunn clenched his eyes shut.
"That bastard even peeped on Rana while she was bathing last time!"
Sayer interjected loudly. Kynemia glanced at Sayer before returning her attention to the Count.
"So it seems. I trust you’ll handle this properly now."
"I won’t disappoint you this time."
Good. I refuse to let such a pervert strut around my territory with his head held high. Kynemia nodded with a faint smile.
"I’ll hold you to that."
Brian, who had been prostrating himself, crawled toward Kynemia on his knees.
"G-Grand Duchess! Please, have mercy—"
Kynemia shuddered in disgust.
"Call me one more time, and I’ll carve out your tongue myself."
Brian hastily clamped both hands over his mouth.
"And the person you should beg isn’t me."
Kynemia’s eyes flicked toward Rana.
"R-Rana! I—I was wrong—"
As Brian clasped his hands pleadingly, Rana sneered.
"Listen to that mutt bark."
"Seems settled, then."
Brian slumped in stunned silence, unable to even utter "Grand Duchess" again.
The Count tsked, yanked him up by the collar, and six platinum coins clattered from Brian’s pockets.
"......!"
Rana swiftly scooped up the coins and scurried to Kynemia.
"Thank you, Grand Duchess."
She bowed deeply at a perfect 90 degrees.
"If you hadn’t intervened, my sister and I would’ve—"
"It’s fine."
"—become murderers."
"......Huh?"
Kynemia choked back a groan at the unexpected confession.
So the murder accusation wasn’t false? They actually killed him and became fugitives?
The timing... Pure luck. A little later, and I’d have had to chase Behemoth up north.
"The compensation is here."
Rana extended the coins. Kynemia studied them intently before curling Rana’s fingers around the platinum.
"Listen."
Rana blinked, bewildered, as Kynemia pressed the money into her palm.
"Sayer. Rana. Consider this my investment proposal."
"......What?"
"What do you think?"
"All of this? For us?"
Rana’s jaw dropped. Sayer squealed beside her.
Though their thrilled expressions betrayed their answer, Kynemia feigned ignorance.
"Will you contract with me?"
"Yes!"
"Yes! Absolutely!"
The sisters embraced, radiant. Kynemia watched with amusement.
The aftermath unfolded seamlessly.
Brian’s parents liquidated their assets for reparations. Kynemia, weighing their desperation against Rana’s wishes, sentenced only their son to prison.
When Sayer and Rana visited the Grand Ducal palace to sign the contract, Kynemia offered:
"You may reside here, or I’ll establish a workshop elsewhere."
"Thank you, but we’d rather stay home," Rana declined.
"No one will harass us now that they know Lady Mia backs us," Sayer added.
Kynemia smiled as the sisters hefted a hammer.
"Besides, we have this."
"Right. Our hammer."
Kynemia bit back the question What exactly do you plan to do with that?
The murder wasn’t a false charge... A sobering lesson—not everyone tells the truth.
With contracts finalized, only one task remained:
Reinscribing the magic circle onto her body.
"Kyaaaaaa!"
Kynemia wept through the entire agonizing process.
"Does it hurt?"
That night, nanny Vanessa cradled Kynemia’s wrist, now bearing the restored spell.
"Not at all."
A lie—the procedure of fusing enchanted gemstones into skin felt like molten needles.
Vanessa kissed her forehead. "No more mistakes, understood?"
"Of course."
Kynemia hugged the sighing woman. If I’d admitted nearly being kidnapped, she’d have fainted. Better she thinks I misused a spell.
"Sorry for worrying you lately, Nanny."
"Oh? I thought you hadn’t noticed."
"I know every beat of your heart."
"Tch."
Kynemia pecked Vanessa’s cheek, making her giggle as she tucked her into bed.
"By the way, who were those hammer-wielding women?"
"Ah... They’re, um... slime crafters."
"Slime?"
"You know—those squishy children’s toys? Not monster slime. They’re artisans."
"Slime artisans! How marvelous!"
Guilt shadowed Kynemia’s face. Slime has no masters. Forgive the lie, Nanny...
Chapter 3: Slime
Months after Kynemia’s Behemoth investment, Sayer and Rana mastered mass-producing swords from monster bones.
Well, my vengeful murderer future’s gone. Kynemia mused, while her vassals marveled:
"By the gods! This is truly forged from monster bone?"
"Yes, Count Brunn. Durable as any steel sword," Sayer affirmed.
"Thinner blades would shatter against monsters. Perfect for aura-less soldiers," Rana added.
"Unthinkable... All thanks to Her Grace!"
"Indeed. She taught us aura-refining and funded our work."
The sisters exchanged smiles. Without her, we’d be fugitives.
Post-Brian’s disgrace, former skeptics now clamored for their favor:
"We didn’t know you knew the Grand Duchess! Please accept these gifts—"
"Commission? We’re too swamped for personal orders."
Their true motive for staying? Watching former tormentors grovel.
This sword will make us rich!
To them, Kynemia transcended mortal nobility—she was a golden deity. Their babbling praises ("Her blonde hair? Pure gold! A lioness!") reached the vassals.
"Our Grand Duchess has blossomed!"
"I told you she was the Chosen One!"
As Count Brunn and Baron Romeo chanted "The Chooooosen One!", Marquis Elijah pragmatically asked:
"Can you scale production with more workers?"
"Easily!" The sisters’ eyes gleamed with ambition.
Amid the celebration, Baron Romeo whispered:
"But what of the ‘slime’ Her Grace mentioned?"
Count Brunn nodded. "A toy, she said."
"Slime?" The sisters exchanged baffled glances.
