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Chapter 48: Ophelia Weeping

Mattheus just smiled. "Now, is there an office we can talk at?"

Still looking morbidly curious, the merchant seemed to know he wasn't going to get a reply and gestured for the baron to follow. "On the upper levels, my lord."

The twenty-year-old looked around as Jack's employees scurried about the stock while walking with the merchant. Considering some of the items, he figured this was probably a midway warehouse, where items and materials were inventoried before being sent off to the company store or for further refinement.

It was likely for mid-tier products. Jack had likely brought the diamonds from somewhere even more secure.

As he had been focusing on his surroundings, he saw Brunilda as she appeared and was ready when she bounced off the railing before settling around his shoulders.

"I smelled gunpowder so I went to check things out but it was only the warehouse security team. I don't think I was gone long so what exactly happened? Why is Jack Vengulls practically dying from a dazed sort of curiosity?"

Mattheus cleared his throat.

He felt her narrowed gaze impress on him. "What did you do, Mattheus?"

The tall man just ignored the cat—not like he could answer right now in any case—and gave Jack a broad smile when the merchant glanced back from the noise.

Jack did a double-take at Brunilda's appearance. "Oh. Is that the famous little lady I've heard tales about by some of my wealthier female customers?"

"Mm? I suppose so? I hope you're not allergic to cats since we basically come as a matching set," Mattheus replied with a small chuckle.

Brunilda bapped him, but Mattheus didn't react while his head tilted to the other side from the pressure. She had hit him with her fuzzy paw and toe beans, so it hadn't hurt at all.

"A merchant disliking cats would have issues with pests ruining their stock, my lord. And Mark has been a captain for a while, so it's not odd we have one or two cats running around the house itself when my brother is on shore leave. Or when the mousing cats have to retire."

"I suppose that's true."

"Her coloring reminds me of the Mithral Blues but she is certainly larger than the typical Blues. Though that might just be the long coat. Certainly, she's very majestic looking. No wonder, the Duchess Sophily was so taken with her. More surprising was Her Grace letting the little lady go but I suppose that's how it is with cats. You don't choose them but they choose their favorite human instead," Jack remarked as he opened the door to reveal a rather well-kept office. "Excuse the mess, my lord."

"No worries, Mister Vengulls, there's no need to stand upon ceremony when we're going to talk about a potential business partnership."

"Haha! If that is so, I insist you call me Jack, Lord Crown."

"Likewise, feel free to call me by my name."

"Now, about your healing water. It would need to get approved by the board of medicine but I don't foresee issues with that. More concerning would be packaging and storage. And, of course, how exactly you want to profit from this. As long as I break even, I am honestly fine when it comes to such products that are more practical than luxury."

Well, Mattheus felt a need to gather funds in response to the idea that Baldroy Harloch wanted war and the fact that might also be a goal of the secret society. But making medicine cost an arm and a leg? That was just totally against the idea of helping your fellow man.

"I want it readily assessable but I also want it a controlled substance considering how easily it can be abused. As for profit, I have some other ideas which I think you would like, you can even have the patents as I'm not fussed over having my name connected with even more attention than I already get as Court Healer. But for medicine, breaking even is enough for me."

"Oh? What ideas might you have, Sir Mattheus?"

Time to take advantage of his transmigrator status to profit. Now, what modern invention or product would sell like hotcakes?

"Elastane, maybe?" Brunilda suggested.

Mattheus wanted something a bit more immediately universal. Soap already existed, even liquid soap.

Oh.

Shampoo and hair conditioner did not seem to exist as specialized products in Yuropa just yet.

After contracts were written up and the bill for his order was given and paid, Mattheus was brought to a side room that seemed to have been hastily emptied and replaced with the list of items he bought.

The unconcealed curiosity from Jack and even a little from Vincent was back.

Mattheus's lips twitched. "If you all would just give me a moment."

"Oh." He felt judgment from Brunilda, though it was relatively lighthearted. "Seriously? Though as long as your father doesn't find out, no one would question how you can essentially break the laws of the world with your Inventory."

Mattheus collected the items with a push of a button, not even needing to manually add them to his Inventory, and he was out of the now empty room in another moment.

Jack peeked into the room and exclaimed in shock. The merchant swiveled his head to look back at the young baron.

The twenty-year-old just gave a pleasant smiled before raising a gloved finger to his lips, a gesture for Jack to stay quiet about what just happened. "Clause B of our main agreement, Jack."

The merchant look stunned before he just shook his head. "I feel like my life will change a lot now that we've met, my friend."

"Vincent. I don't need to tell you to keep what happened this afternoon a secret from my parents?" Mattheus voiced as he got comfortable in his suite of rooms.

"I saw nothing and my lips are sealed when it comes to Master Mattheus's personal life."

Mattheus sighed. "Thank you, Vincent. It's nothing bad but I do not want the family asking about every little detail of what I do."

"I feel your parents and siblings are still adjusting to the fact you have now matured into an adult," Vincent slowly and carefully replied.

The twenty-year-old hummed. "I suppose. Anyway, you're relieved of your duties the rest of the night. We'll have an early start considering I will have a session with Countess Marcel tomorrow morning."

"Miss Brue does not need a brush down?" Vincent was a bit surprised though it was true the cat got a bit dusty from nosing about the entire day.

"Maybe during the train ride." Mattheus sighed. "When will Father give me back that car… really…"

Once the valet left, Mattheus flopped onto the couch with his tie tossed on the table and vest undone. He absentmindedly removed his cufflinks as he pulled up a window of the System.

"Looks like everything is ready for the 1.4 update, Brue."

"How long will it take?"

"Looks like it'll be ready by the time I wake up if we start tonight."

"Might as well get on with it then. Who knows, maybe the System has a solution for Countess Marcel. It's odd you never got a quest for either her or Harloch when it's very likely important to your wellbeing in some way or the other."

"The System was down when we first met Harloch. Maybe it's restricted to create quests based on timing."

"Maybe 1.4 will finally have an update log so we have an idea what it's done that is not readily apparent on the user interface."

Mattheus only made a noise that agreed with his friend before starting the update.

Mattheus, who had been thinking of the bombshell the System dropped on them when he woke up, was jolted out of his contemplation when he saw the Marcel butler calling for him as he walked out of the Cambell Station. A carriage was beside the manservant.

That, in no way, was a good sign.

Heading to and arriving at Marinell House, he was surprised to see Harloch when he was guided to the countess's bedroom.

"Doctor Crown," the other baron greeted upon spotting Mattheus. He gestured a bit to the side, a suitable distance to talk relatively privately away from the bed. "My lady seemed to have taken a very bad turn last night. She's tired and no longer has the energy to attend meetings in Parliament—she's not blaming you, of course, but with being unable to find the source of this 'curse,' she wondered if you going to Mecane for the books you need would be possible if she accompanied you."

Mattheus was silent for a moment. "Certainly, I would be able to address any issues she'd have and it would help if I had more research to look through. Curses are a rather… esoteric area of study in academia." He glanced at the others in the bedchamber. "I guess she named you steward for her votes in the House of Lords?"

"She is stepping back completely, no longer splitting her attention between duty and health, and gave me leave to deal with her responsibilities, trusting my judgment on any decisions I will need to make. It would take too much back and forth, otherwise."

He had been expecting it but he still went cold. Baldroy Harloch now essentially had the economic and political power of the Marcel family at his disposal.

Outwardly, he just ducked his head in understanding. "Perfectly understandable. Do you have to leave now or can I see the countess first before talking further about the trip? Unless she didn't leave you to arrange it but Dame Farfelou?" He appeared perfectly normal, even wrinkling his nose in distaste at the mention of who he found out was Harloch's rival within the Marcel faction.

Harloch waved him off, already looking like he was plotting something else, and Mattheus walked toward the bed where the woman rested.

He knew with sudden clarity that Harloch was going to vote against the reforms. If the man wanted a war, the most expedited wasn't waiting for the tension of the succession to spill over. It was to start a civil war another way.

Under no circumstance would King Mordred truly let his citizens die before intervening. All Harloch had to do was call in favors and use the people he's blackmailed to instigate a stalemate, forcing the decision to be delayed until winter truly set in. Even if King Mordred would step in to save lives, a large part of the traditionalists would consider such a move overstepping and undermining aristocratic authority.

It would be the easiest, most controllable method to start conflict for Baldroy Harloch.

"He is so triumphant it sickens me," Brunilda remarked.

Mattheus reached Ophelia Marcel and couldn't help but smile weakly when the woman acknowledged him.

"Doctor Crown…"

"Countess Marcel… I am so sorry for failing you." Mattheus couldn't help but grit his teeth at the end.


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