Secrets of the Villainous Empress

Chapter Twenty-Three: Future investments

The topiary elicited strong feelings despite it not having any mana injected into it. Still, the level of detail put in the image before me made me realise that his crafting skill was at least at the S level. If he were to learn how to insert mana into his work, then e could easily-

-Nope, let's not do that!-

I stopped my brain’s ramblings by clearing my throat, then forced my gaze from Azalea’s beautiful portrait to instead focus on the man on one knee.

There were deep black markings on his hands that resembled artistic tattoos, indicating that he was a slave.

Slave markings varied from person to person based on their abilities. A labour slave, for example, would have their explosive tattoos on their legs, while a chef or artist would have theirs on their hands.

The only way for a slave to rid themselves of the marking was through their master's permission as the contract was based on blood and therefore required DNA recognition.

The contract nullifies itself upon the masters’ death, but there is a loophole being exploited in some places like the east that allowed for slave inheritance.

I haven’t been through that, so I am not all that sure how that works.

“Did you craft this?” I asked, pointing to the topiary, and though the man’s gaze did not meet mine, he answered.

“Yes, yes I did.”

“It is of excellent quality.” I commented, “earlier, by the entrance, I stated that everyone should continue with their work, were you not present?”

“No, forgive our rudeness, but the imperial butler stated that we were short on time and thus only those working the front base gardens should-,”

‘I see.” I interrupted, “Well, there is no need to  continue bowing.”

The use of ‘our’ did not go unnoticed. The man was probably talking about the person with the familiar aura hiding terribly behind the topiary. Still, it was not a crime to fear me, and in a sense, I do prefer it that way.

-Hmm… well, whatever, they don’t feel malicious, and I am relatively short on time.-

So, I chose to ignore their presence rather than question them for poorly made up excuses.

“Oh. Uh, thank you.” He rose somewhat awkwardly as though the notion of friendliness coming from a superior was somewhat foreign to him.

“What is your name?”

“Leeroy Kriston Addams.”

Free artists usually sign their work. However, slave artists do not.

“From henceforth, sign all future work you do, in the gardens or otherwise, under the initials ‘L. K. Addams’. I wish to recommend your services to others.” I proceeded, “If you do decide to work on commission outside my gardens, then we shall split the profits fifty-fifty.”

“If you manage to earn in profits twice your worth, by that I mean, twice the amount I paid for you, then I will set you free.”

Leeroy’s eyes widened, and for a few seconds, he remained completely still.

“F-freedom?” he whispered to himself, and a tug pulled at my heart as the familiarity of the feeling he held resonated.

“Yes, freedom,” I repeated, but for some reason, the words came out a little breathless.

I cleared my throat to remove any trace of emotion that I may have let slip by then awaited his response, but rather than nod excitedly, he frowned.

“W-wait, your imperial majesty, I cannot possibly know my worth as I was gifted to you by the Nissian Grand Duke.”

-Oof!-

“Right.” I said, then hummed, “I’d price you at seven million kerris, but I may be undervaluing you.”

“Hmm, well, have you ever put any of your pieces out in the world? You know, before all this?” I asked.

“N-no, I have been a slave from the moment I turned seventeen.”

“Ah, were you born in the west?” I asked.

My hand flew to my chin as I unconsciously began trying to figure him out.

“No, I was born in Dru, here in Mayflower.”

“Then how did you attract the Nissian duke’s attention?”

“I…I-,” he began, but the event was clearly still bitterly fresh in his mind, at least based on the way a bitter frown defiled his ruggedly handsome face.

“You do not need to answer that; rather, since I will be your first investor and I am doing so blindly, I will add an additional million.” I said honestly, “I shall get the contract drafted in a week. For now, I have placed your worth at seven million, earn me fifteen million, and you are free.”

“I look forward to seeing you rise to the occasion.”

If he succeeds, he will be an entirely different person than who he is today by the time we part.

“Yes! Yes! Thank you!” he exclaimed, the joy on his face unmistakable.

“Yes, well, if I were you, I’d hurry. The attempts at my life may one day be successful.” I warned teasingly, then turned to proceed with my path when I remembered the mischievous rascal behind the topiary.

“To the man hiding behind the topiary, next time try and hide your mana as well. I will let this go because I am a little preoccupied,” I finished, then turned to continue my walk to Azalea's office.

My heart nearly leapt out of my chest the second Raiser opened the door to Azalea’s office, and I caught sight of the enormous paperwork piling carelessly on the deep mahogany desk.

“s**t, how…much work is in here??” I frowned as I rushed into the wonderfully victorian decorated room whose key theme was crimson and brown.

The office itself was clean; there was not a speck of dirt anywhere. However, no matter how neatly arranged the papers were, they filled nearly the entire desk.

“Give or take six months?” Raiser answered, “Before you fell ill-“

“Fell ill?” I questioned.

“I beg your pardon,” he said, then began his explanation once more, “Your Aide retired shortly before the poison in your system began to manifest.”

I sighed.

“I will sort some of this during the rest of the day. You should rest, perhaps even enjoy the banquet and ball because afterwords….”

I did not complete my sentence because a document by the name ‘Mariette’ caught my eye. Especially the juicy scribble at the bottom that spelt ‘Confidential’ in crimson.

-Why is a file on my previous life here?-

“Will her imperial majesty not attend the banquet?”

‘No, I shall attend the ball instead. I find banquets awfully dull.’ I answered curtly as I flipped the pages of the confidential document.

Banquets are basically introductory dinners, where everyone, even barons, are announced by their title. This act takes up almost half of the event before finally food is served in large quantities. Still, the seating arrangement makes everyone feel as though they are back in school. In contrast, balls only announced the big five and the imperial family, then the rest of the session is a party.

“Understood.” He said curtly, “but, before I leave, what did you mean when you said that the attempts at your life might prosper?”