CHAPTER 124: I just came to do some business (5)

"That's outrageous!"

Meriel was so taken aback by the exorbitant price that she stammered.

"One hundred gold? That's far too expensive! Who would buy something at that price?"

"Expensive? The famous luxury brand 'Charnel' also sells for over one hundred gold, does it not?"

"But that's jewelry! It doesn't wear out with each use like cosmetics."

"Yet this will become an even greater luxury item," Ghislain replied confidently. Meriel bit her lip slightly.

"Do you really think it'll sell at that price?"

"Of course. Isn't the fact that you came here proof enough?"

"…"

Meriel couldn't argue. While one hundred gold was indeed a bit steep, it was affordable enough for wealthy noblewomen.

"Then, how about granting me the distribution rights in the capital? I can help establish you here more smoothly."

Ghislain merely shrugged in response.

"This is something that would sell even if displayed in a gutter."

Meriel bit her lip, unable to find words. He was right.

This was a product that would inevitably sell once word spread.

To secure exclusivity, she'd have to steal the formula and silence him.

But she wasn't that ruthless.

"Haa…"

A sigh escaped Meriel's lips.

Having a product that was too good posed its own issues. To secure it, she'd need to offer something as valuable, and she didn't have anything to match it.

Claude, captivated by the aura of melancholy emanating from her, nudged Ghislain as if to suggest just giving her the product.

But Ghislain didn't even blink.

'No need to play the fool.'

Still, it would be beneficial to maintain ties with Meriel.

After a brief consideration, Ghislain decided to offer her something other than distribution rights.

"Countess, you truly have a good eye. You're the first to have come here. While an exclusive contract isn't feasible, I can at least ensure you gain a reputation in high society."

"Reputation?"

Ghislain pushed a large box, which he had set aside, toward Meriel.

Curious, she opened it to find around fifty jars of the cosmetic inside.

"And this is…?"

"Why not be the first to lead the trend before word spreads further? Your reputation would benefit for quite some time. The more valuable the gift, the greater its worth."

Meriel nodded and smiled.

"So, you're using me to advertise your cosmetics?"

"Since the rumors will spread anyway, why not make it mutually beneficial? I'll save time, and you'll gain prestige. This is my way of thanking you for recognizing our product first."

It wasn't a bad offer for her. In high society, setting trends first played a significant role in one's reputation.

Simply being the first to discover and recommend this product would establish her as a discerning trendsetter.

In this way, the high price became an advantage. A product not everyone could afford would elevate the status of those who used it.

"Fine, I accept your proposal," she agreed, taking the box. If she couldn't secure an exclusive contract, at least she could claim the prestige.

"Well then, I'll be going. Don't worry about the promotion."

Without hesitation, Meriel rose from her seat.

She needed to attend the next available gathering quickly, before others could spread the word.

The moment she returned, she planned to go through every invitation and attend the earliest event.

Ghislain inclined his head slightly in farewell.

"Take care on your way."

The crow on his shoulder followed suit, nodding its head.

Caw!

***

Not long after Meriel's departure, word about the cosmetics spread far and wide.

Even without personally confirming the product's effects, people sought it out simply because she vouched for it.

Despite the extremely high price, nobles eagerly purchased the cosmetics.

Even if they couldn't afford to keep using it, they figured it was worth trying at least once, knowing that Meriel herself endorsed it.

As the orders flooded in, Claude and Belinda cheered.

"This is amazing! It's a huge success!"

Gold coins piled up like mountains in the mansion. The money alone was enough to support the estate for a year.

"Haha! My lord, why don't we just quit everything else and run a business here? This is the easiest way to make a living!"

Claude, intoxicated by the joy of counting money, even started spouting nonsense.

"Even at this price, it's selling incredibly well! Shouldn't we bring in more stock?"

Strike while the iron is hot.

To establish a permanent location in the capital, expand distribution, and send ordered supplies across the kingdom, they'd need to act swiftly.

Though Claude and the others urged him to hurry, Ghislain remained unperturbed.

"Hold on. There's still more to do."

"What's left to do? We need to go back to the estate to produce more stock!"

No matter how much Claude insisted, Ghislain didn't budge.

"Hmm… We should be hearing something soon. Haven't they received the news yet?"

Thanks to Meriel, the word had spread faster than anticipated, and sales picked up immediately.

But the real target Ghislain sought hadn't appeared yet.

A few days later, as the initial stock was nearly depleted, a well-dressed, elderly gentleman arrived at the mansion.

"I am the butler of the Marquis Branford household. Are you Baron Fenris?"

Ghislain's eyes sparkled.

The fish he'd been waiting for had finally taken the bait.

***

Ghislain had intentionally not sent a gift to the Branford family, so that they would come to him instead.

Marquis Branford, royal minister, was the leader of the pro-royalist faction and one of the kingdom's most powerful figures, often opposing the Duke Delphine faction.

He was reputed to have his hand in nearly every royal affair.

As the great lord of the eastern territories and a former military commander, his influence extended even into the military.

For the butler of such a powerful household to visit Ghislain over a few jars of cosmetics was enough to shock other nobles.

After the formal greetings, the butler got straight to the point.

"Does this cosmetic truly improve the complexion?"

"That's an ambiguous question. It enhances skin condition, yes. Haven't you already heard from the rumors? What do you really want to know?"

"Is there a chance that using this might improve the skin temporarily, only to worsen it afterward?"

"Hard to say. Skin requires consistent care, so the effect depends on regular use. It may vary from person to person."

The butler questioned him relentlessly about the ingredients, potential side effects, and more.

Ghislain, feigning impatience, cut to the chase.

"You mentioned you're from the Branford family. Is this for the marquis's daughter?"

"That…"

The butler hesitated, and Ghislain smirked as if looking down on him.

"What are you hiding? I've already heard that the young lady wears a mask and rarely leaves her room. Everyone may try to keep it quiet, but do you think I'm unaware of something like that just because I'm new here?"

"…Yes. It is for the young lady."

"Good. Honesty makes things easier."

Ghislain chuckled, setting out a few jars of the cosmetics.

"Take a couple and try them out. I poured all my knowledge into creating this product. I have a bit of a knack for herbology and medicine, you know."

It wasn't entirely a lie. After all, he possessed knowledge beyond anyone else's understanding.

He didn't know the mechanisms but understood the results.

Ghislain continued shamelessly.

"If this doesn't work, it'll mean we need a different approach, so come back then."

"…Understood."

As the butler turned to leave, Ghislain added, "By the way, I also know a method for curing the 'Eternal Punishment.'"

The butler pretended not to hear and made no response.

'Eternal Punishment' was an incurable affliction, so he assumed Ghislain was bluffing.

Unfazed, Ghislain pursed his lips, muttering to himself.

"People really don't trust easily. Should I just bring that priest with me?"

***

Marquis Branford scrutinized the cosmetics his butler had brought back.

"So this is the beauty product that's recently become famous?"

"Yes, Countess Ailesbur herself vouched for it."

The marquis mumbled indifferently.

"Doesn't look like it would do much."

While he was one of the most powerful figures in the kingdom, recently, two issues had been troubling him.

One was Duke Delphine's faction.

The formerly loyal Duke Delphine had been amassing power and making bold moves.

The pro-royalist faction, led by Marquis Branford, was rapidly losing influence as the duke's faction grew stronger.

The other issue was his daughter's chronic skin condition.

"If this doesn't work, are we out of options?"

The Delphine issue was a recent concern, but his daughter's problem had been ongoing.

Her skin had developed dark patches that only worsened under sunlight, causing her so much irritation that she couldn't sleep and was confined indoors.

There was no known cure. No one understood the cause.

Priestly healing would briefly alleviate the symptoms, but they always returned shortly after.

They had tried every reputedly effective remedy, to no avail.

"I'll take it to her myself."

The marquis walked slowly to his daughter's room.

She had cut herself off from all outside interaction, spending her days alone in the dark.

Her self-imposed isolation had cast a gloomy shadow over the entire household.

He understood her reluctance to show her face to others; even he found himself wincing at her worsening condition.

But he could no longer ignore it.

"We can't delay her marriage any longer."

The marquis had planned an alliance marriage with a neutral noble family to counterbalance the influence of Duke Delphine.

But his daughter had continued to request more time.

"Tch, patience has its limits."

While he had respected her feelings and delayed the wedding thus far, he couldn't afford to wait any longer.

They needed to solidify the royalist faction's power before Duke Delphine's influence grew further.

Click.

Opening the door, he entered a dimly lit room where only a few candles greeted him.

The windows were tightly shut, draped in heavy curtains, and the costly magic lamps had been removed.

His daughter, Rozalin, sat by candlelight, reading a book.

'She might as well be a prisoner in a tower.'

He glanced around, suppressing his disapproval, and handed her the cosmetics.

"Rozalin, try this. It's a beauty cream that's quite popular these days. They say it's good for the skin."

Only then did Rozalin slowly look up.

"Will it really help?"

Her voice was calm, but an undercurrent of emotion boiled within her words.

The marquis met her bloodshot gaze briefly before continuing.

"Countess Ailesbur recommended it."

"…"

Rozalin fell silent.

She knew Meriel well, having admired her since childhood.

Meriel had always used only the best products, setting trends in high society. She wouldn't recommend anything useless.

"Leave it here."

"Very well. And be aware, the wedding will proceed soon."

At this, Rozalin struggled to keep her voice steady.

"Do you expect me to marry like this? Looking like this, I'll be treated like a monster, never loved. Do you wish me to be ridiculed and scorned?"

The marquis replied coldly.

"It's for the family."

"And my life means nothing to you?"

"The family is more important."

To this, Rozalin offered another retort.

"Do you think the young lord will be pleased to see me? When he inherits, he'll resent you for forcing this marriage. Do you think the alliance will hold strong under those circumstances?"

The marquis scoffed.

"What could he possibly do? A marriage between noble houses is just that. When he becomes lord, he'll understand its value."

While Rozalin saw the marriage as personal, the marquis viewed it as a strategic arrangement.

Neither perspective could be deemed "correct," as each valued different types of relationships.

After speaking, the marquis turned and left the room.

"Haa…"

Rozalin sighed, applying the cream to her face.

It was difficult to tell if she was applying cream or wiping away tears.

***

After a few days of using the product, Rozalin shoved it aside in frustration.

'It's no use.'

Her skin looked healthier, but the blemishes remained.

The red spots contrasted awkwardly with her now-glowing skin, making her look even more unnatural.

Crash!

Scowling at her reflection, Rozalin picked up a glass from her vanity and hurled it.

The sound of shattering glass echoed beyond her room, but no one approached.

Once again, she spent her time alone in the dark, hoping the pain would someday end.

Meanwhile, someone was approaching the Branford mansion gates.

"Hey, the marquis is in, right? Don't tell me he's not. I've checked."

The guard replied in a stern tone.

"Who are you?"

"Tell him Baron Fenris is here. I'd like to have a word."

The visitor at the Branford gates was none other than Ghislain.

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