Published: January 4, 2026
Outside the Imperial Capital, on the road heading toward Enlil.
I was alone in the carriage with Cindy.
For something meant to carry the emperor, it was too modest, but if considered a merchant’s carriage, it was decent enough.
The ride was comfortable, and it seemed like the journey would be without inconvenience.
Regarding the carriage, Cindy apologized to me.
“I’m sorry, it was so sudden that this was the best carriage I could prepare.”
“That’s fine, actually this is better. This time it’s a secret trip—I don’t want the carriage to draw attention.”
“Y-yes. Then… what about accommodations during the journey?”
Cindy paused, watching my expression carefully before continuing.
“Something decent will do. If it’s me, a man, I’m fine even with a large room where we all sleep together.”
I wondered when was the last time I used “ore” instead of “yo” in front of Cindy, adding a bit of playful spirit.
It seemed the meaning behind “ore” was correctly understood.
Cindy sighed with relief and relaxed a little.
“Understood. Then, though I can’t disclose too much, I’ll arrange for lodgings at a respectable household.”
“Good. Being overly humble would only arouse suspicion.”
“Yes.”
Cindy nodded and spoke to the man in the driver’s seat, likely about tonight’s lodging or the pace of travel.
I decided to leave those details to her.
“Ah—um.”
“Hmph, what is it?”
I smiled subtly at Cindy, who called me “Your Majesty,” implicitly telling her not to worry about earlier mistakes.
“Tonight we will spend the night at Nail’s post town, but what shall we do after tomorrow?”
“There’s no need to rush that much.”
“Are you sure?”
Cindy looked a bit surprised.
“Ah, rescue efforts are probably just beginning now; arriving too early would only get in the way.”
“I see.”
“Besides, this trip is to inspect the waterworks situation. Usually by now, the numbers on buildings and casualties would be ‘massaged.’ That kind of cover-up comes much later, so there’s no need to hurry.”
“Massaged?”
“Like military reports—bad news is minimized, good news is exaggerated. Isn’t it similar in business?”
“…Yes.”
Cindy gasped and then shifted to a troubled expression.
“It seems the same everywhere around here. I created a whistleblowing system with Fuwawa’s Box, so it got somewhat better, but I learned it’s impossible to root out entirely.”
“That alone is impressive. Even improving that tendency is truly remarkable…”
Cindy muttered with a troubled look, filled with emotion.
From her words alone, I could sense she must have gone through hardships herself.
“By the way.”
“Yes?”
“How’s your relationship with your father these days?”
“Ah…”
When asked, Cindy’s expression became even more troubled.
Originally, she was a girl taken in and adopted by Byron Allan, a merchant.
Byron saw Cindy’s talent, took her under his wing, and educated her.
Cindy grew into a capable merchant, living up to those expectations.
However, when Cindy was grown and Byron was middle-aged, a typical family squabble arose.
Byron, who until then had no son, had a biological boy for the first time.
A child born later in life is cherished, and naturally, a successful merchant with a family to pass on would want to hand everything down to that child.
That made Cindy a thorn in the side—a story I’d read countless times in history.
So, I gave Cindy a new family name.
One far more prestigious than a merchant’s.
Normally, this would be a name so high in status that she wouldn’t even need to compete with Byron’s family heirs, saving her from the usual family conflicts.
Now, I was about to hear from Cindy how that all turned out.
“Probably… it’s okay.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Perhaps making it clear by always using the new name that I don’t intend to compete has been effective.”
“That’s good. Losing a woman like you would be a waste. Tell me anytime if you feel threatened.”
“Thank you…”