I Don't Want To Do a Romantic Comedy With a Villain! - Chapter 34
Episode 34
The thought of grabbing the wet robe didn’t even cross her mind.
Min-joo stared blankly at the man, unable to accept what Vehen had just said.
Vehen’s thick, low-saturation brown hair flowed neatly down his forehead. His emerald green eyes looked tired and dim, and his tightly closed smooth lips betrayed a sense of weariness.
Perhaps the reason he looked tired was because of that.
The night sky, visible through a small window, covered Vehen. His once tidy suit was now disheveled. He must have vented his frustration on his clothes without overcoming his anger.
Smooth skin was revealed through the open shirt.
Min-joo briefly looked at the floor before locking eyes with Vehen. She was confused.
“Why did the fire happen? Why didn’t the bill pass?”
Vehen loosened the already half-undone cravat completely, clearly frustrated.
It seemed incredibly frustrating.
“They say a commoner who heard the verdict couldn’t bear the anger and set fire. I can understand the reaction, as we expanded business even to the commoners.”
Having finished his statement, Vehen raised his finger and scratched his chin.
His finger scratched against his sharp jawline.
Min-joo took a step back and sat on the desk, observing his attitude.
“Is there more to it?”
“Yeah.”
Punishing Viscount Zikens, marking Crown Prince Tedric as a villain, and aiming to improve the treatment of slaves— the preparations so far had been quite solid. It had been well-prepared and smooth as if going through numerous trials and errors.
Yet, not achieving the goal meant someone deliberately obstructed it.
Min-joo, with a faint memory surfacing, asked with a puzzled expression.
“Is it Tedric?”
Min-joo’s question was an issue Vehen had already considered. Few could sabotage what Min-joo’s group had prepared. Since there had been no leaks, it wasn’t certain that Tedric, an outsider, intentionally hindered them.
Vehen threw his cravat onto the desk in frustration.
The fabric slid down the desk.
“I can’t be sure.”
Min-joo ignored the falling cravat.
“Well, what do you know then?”
“For now, the arsonist is a commoner with no family or property. I haven’t investigated thoroughly yet, but he didn’t have much property from the start. However, there’s one record of him entering a gambling den.”
Could it be that the arsonist, without property or family, set fire to erase evidence?
Min-joo clenched the wooden desk in her hands.
The reason a commoner without money entered a gambling den would likely be to increase his wealth. There’s no easier way to earn money than through gambling.
Vehen continued, sweeping his bangs that covered his forehead.
Hair tangled in his thick fingers.
“Viscount Ziken was apprehended just a day before. He lost all his property there, got into debt, and even wrote a surrender document for his body.”
“Well, then he might have set the fire using that as a reason.”
If he wrote a surrender document for his body, the motive was sufficient. It would be better to burn the noble’s house and go to prison than to lose one’s body or become a slave.
Min-joo recalled the scenario that lingered in her memory, a fragment from her dream.
[Mirtese: Viscount Ziken’s workshop has been arrested. I had someone check his residence and office, but there’s no trace of interaction.
Tedric: Are you sure? If there’s a mistake in the trial and a search order is issued?
Mirtese: (pauses, seeming perplexed) I can’t be certain.
Tedric: I prefer certainty. Count, if I make one request to you, will you comply?
Mirtese: Please command me, Your Highness.]
Min-joo scratched the underside of the desk with her finger.
It couldn’t be a coincidence.
If the altered scenario she saw in her dream wasn’t just a dream, this was the groundwork for plausibility.
Commoners don’t act rashly. Unless there’s a drawback or their lives are not affected, they don’t pay attention to national affairs. Even if newspapers are published and attention is drawn, would a commoner suddenly set fire to a noble’s house?
Not to become a hero.
Min-joo tapped her finger under the desk like playing the piano.
“It seems like something Tedric would do. The prophecy seemed too real, and it looks like it came true.”
“Why do you think so?”
Vehen’s attitude was more about seeking certainty than attempting to grasp at straws. Min-joo tapped her fingers consistently under the desk.
“As I mentioned in court, Tedric ordered Mir… Mar…”
“Mirtese.”
“Right, Mirtese. Ordered Mirtese to destroy evidence. And as soon as the trial ended, Viscount Ziken’s house burned down, just as if it was planned.”
“Count Mirtese.”
“Does that matter? Anyway, the commoner who wrote the surrender document for his body… who did he write it to?”
Min-joo blinked her eyes between the quite thick bangs.
As if the bangs might sting her eyes, Vehen absentmindedly reached out to brush Min-joo’s bangs away but stopped abruptly.
He lowered his arm.
“It was Viscount Ziken.”
“Then it’s obvious. Count Mirtese received a surrender document from Viscount Ziken and ordered it to the commoner.”
Having concluded her deduction decisively, Min-joo recalled the remaining fragment of her dream.
Tedric coerces Viscount Ziken to buy a ship.
Min-joo stopped her rapid tapping of the finger and clenched the desk.
“Did you check Viscount Ziken’s ledger?”
“It burned in the fire, and we couldn’t find it. But we verified the recent expenditure records.”
“The ledger burned.”
Min-joo’s thoughts matched what Vehen had already considered, and the investigation had been completed before returning home.
Unable to conclude within a day, they couldn’t find clear evidence.
Vehen looked at Min-joo, who was close to the desk, then turned his head away.
“Although it burned, there was a statement of accounts. Most of the money earned from gambling at the den was used to purchase the ship.”
“He laundered it.”
Min-joo replied with a sigh.
Certainly, the acquired ship must be linked to Tedric. And the money used to buy the ship would have gone straight into Tedric’s pocket.
Vehen nodded in agreement, his thoughts aligning with Min-joo’s.
He shifted backward, leaning against the wall.
The hair pressed against the wall got disheveled.
The sound of coal burning, tap, thunk, gradually faded away.
“The shipbuilding business was run by a relative of Count Mirtese. However, the evidence linking it to the Crown Prince is insufficient.”
If the circumstances were a bit more explicit, they could have implicated Tedric and pushed him into the abyss.
Min-joo slid off the desk, seemingly knowing and acknowledging that the tail had been cut, evidence eradicated. It was beyond mere coincidence.
She rolled up her sleeves, folding them up to her elbows.
“How did Tedric know and get ahead of us?”
“I have a suspicion.”
Vehen glanced at the adjacent door, nodding his head downward as if it wasn’t the right time to discuss it.
Min-joo calmly closed her black eyes, then slowly tilted her head.
It seemed like he was concerned that someone might be eavesdropping.
“We’ll talk about it later.”
“It’s better not to inform Rolfreme and His Highness.”
“You mean you have …… suspicions?”
Vehen answered with a nod, not using words. Min-joo vaguely felt what those suspicions might be.
The attack occurred as soon as Min-joo arrived at the mansion, cutting off the connection to the gambling den as if they knew in advance.
It was clear from the circumstances.
There was a spy.
This was also likely why Permette had been so cautious with Min-joo. Uncovering a spy needed to be done secretly, so keeping information to a minimum was understandable.
But Min-joo couldn’t understand why Vehen trusted her enough to share this information. Was it because she was brought in personally? Or because she was someone he liked? Vehen wasn’t the type to let emotions distort his work.
There must be a hidden secret that Vehen knows and Min-joo doesn’t. Min-joo smiled gently, not particularly eager to unearth it. If she ever wanted to know, she could ask later.
“Well then, what about the bill not passing? What happened?”
As Min-joo asked her a straightforward question, Vehen tapped the wall with his index finger, creating a tapping sound mixed with the faint noise of burning coal.
Min-joo took out coal from the iron and placed it in the furnace.
As the burning coal mixed in, a crackling sound emerged, and sparks flew into the air, oxidizing and bursting.
“It seems like the topic has already spread in noble society, stirring up controversy over the rights of slaves.”
“What? Has it spread to that extent already?”
Permette hadn’t been spreading the discussion about slavery for long. Of course, they had enough time to hear bit by bit and present their perspectives, but had they already decided their stance on it?
Min-joo gripped a corner of the rough fabric in her hand. The cloth was crumpled, and beneath her skirt, the shoes Permette had given her were revealed.
“Noble society exchanges information quickly. Do you not know why gatherings, picnics, tea parties, and social events exist?”
Nobles gathered for hunting, outings, tea parties, and parties for the sole purpose of socializing. It was simply for networking — to quickly understand the trends of the times and avoid losses. Among these social circles, if one influential noble spoke out, the momentum was likely to shift.
Min-joo knew that Vehen and Permette weren’t inclined to participate in the social circles. If Permette intentionally concealed his intentions and appearance, Vehen naturally had an inherent tendency to avoid mingling with many people.
Although Vehen’s parents held high status in social circles, being a duke’s family, he might not have been exposed to the dynamics of noble society if he had frequently followed in his parents’ footsteps. However, after losing his parents, he withdrew from society.
Even if he disliked crowded places, Min-joo didn’t expect him to be this reclusive.
“You need to meet people. Vehen, you especially. None of you, Permette, or Ceteran, seem to have any sociability.”
“It’s not my fault.”
“So it was good of you to think of pushing the bill through without realizing that the aristocracy was talking about squeezing the slaves harder?”
Min-joo’s rational and sharp retort silenced Vehen. But he felt unjustly accused.
Was it Vehen’s fault that he didn’t like crowded places?
Even though Vehen had resisted attending the party at Count Velirian’s estate, Min-joo insisted, and he reluctantly went along. Vehen looked into the distance, tapping the wall and sighing.
“You…”
Vehen, who seemed about to say something, closed his mouth and trailed off. Hoping he would just say what he wanted to say, Min-joo raised an eyebrow, slightly furrowing her forehead.
“Why?”
“Forget it. Wash the gown again. If you keep treating clothes like that, I’ll dock your wages.”
“You wield power and money in a disgusting and deadly way.”
“If you don’t like it, leave.”
“Seriously, leave?”
Firing used to be Min-joo’s weakness, but now it no longer had the same effect. Min-joo had Neriant, and as for Permette… who knows?
If she asked to stay for a day, she might allow it. Even though once Neriant entered, she might not be able to leave again, Min-joo would still offer her a place to stay.
Vehen laughed mockingly as he observed Min-joo’s bold and daring attitude, much like a cheeky Chihuahua with its owner nearby.
Min-joo’s reaction was dismissive.