Chapter 24: The Battle Against the Budget — That Dress Is Too Heavy

Physical laws are fair to everyone.
No matter how noble one’s status, gravity cannot be defied.

The royal palace’s special costume chamber.
What sat there was a “structure” called a dress.

“…Sylvia, what is this?”

“It is the formal dress to be worn during the wedding ceremony.”

“Is there space inside for people to enter?
Is it a pillar or something?”

I stared intently at the object before me.
The pure white fabric was buried under gold and silver embroidery, with countless fist-sized gemstones sewn on.
The drapes of cloth were hardened solid with starch and wire, standing upright even when placed on the floor.

“Total weight, approximately twenty kilograms.
Now then, please try it on.”

Sylvia urged me on with a calm expression.
I took a step back.

“I refuse.”

“…Pardon?”

“No.
Walking ten kilometers in this is impossible.
I would suffer not just a neck sprain, but a compression fracture.”

I shook my head.
I had once carried a ten-kilogram sack of rice in my previous life, and this was like running a marathon with two of those strapped to my body.
I would die.
Without question.

“Enough of this nonsense!”

Thunder struck from behind.

Duke Valerius stormed in, pounding his cane.

“That weight is the weight of responsibility!
The weight of the dress is the weight of the nation’s history itself!
To reject it is proof of your lack of resolve!”

It was the duke’s personal creed.
Pure spiritualism.

It reminded me strongly of an old-fashioned, hyper-macho superior from another era.

“Your Grace.
Spiritual arguments do not negate physical mass.”

I replied calmly.

“What if I collapse halfway through?
Or if I trip under the weight and fall?
That would be the true disgrace of the royal family, a laughingstock to the world.”

“Hmph.
Then train so you will not fall!”

“The ceremony is next month.
It is impossible to develop the muscle strength required to handle a twenty-kilogram load in one month.”

The discussion was going nowhere.
This man was wearing blinders labeled ‘tradition’ and could not see physical risk.

Then I would change my approach.
The strongest weapon of all.
Numbers.

“…Very well.
Then before we proceed with the fitting, allow me to confirm something.”

I held out my hand.

“May I see the purchase order and budget breakdown for this dress?”

The duke frowned suspiciously.

“Huh?
Money?
How vulgar.
Budget is irrelevant to a royal ceremony.
We simply had the finest made.”

“Ensuring that the finest is also appropriately priced is the duty of the woman who will become your wife.”

I glanced at Sylvia.
She looked surprised for a moment, then promptly retrieved a thick file from a desk drawer.
As expected, she worked quickly.

I opened the file.

First page.

‘Highest-grade sapphire (large) × 50 pieces: 500 gold coins.’

“…I see.”

Second page.

‘Ceremonial embroidery thread (gold): 300 gold coins.’

I narrowed my eyes.
My accounting skills from my previous life and the trade knowledge gained through dealings with the Empire began calculating at high speed in my head.

“Your Grace.
I strongly recommend terminating this contractor immediately.”

“What nonsense?
They have served the crown since the founding of the kingdom.”

“You are being exploited.”

I pointed to one line of the statement.

“These sapphires are priced at three times the market rate.
And despite being labeled ‘highest grade,’ if this price includes processing, the raw stones themselves are mediocre at best.”

“W-what…?”

“And these embroidery threads.
At three hundred gold coins, they should be pure gold, yet what I see is merely gold-plated alloy.
Heavy, but dull.”

I tapped the surface of the dress with my fingernail.
It made a light metallic sound.

“Using tradition as a shield, they charge whatever they like while padding the weight with inferior materials.
Is this what you call ‘the weight of history’?”

“Impossible…!”

The duke rushed to the dress, his face pale.
He scrutinized the embroidery through his monocle.
He had an eye for quality.
He had simply trusted them blindly because they were long-established.

“…You’re right.
The twist of the thread is loose…
And the sapphires, now that I look closely, are full of inclusions…”

The duke’s hands began to tremble.
With anger.

Not toward me.
But toward the contractors who had preyed upon royal tradition.

“Those wretches…!
They dared deceive me…!”

“To them, you were simply a ‘good customer who never checks prices.’”

I closed the file with a snap.

“This dress is confiscated.
File for damages and blacklist the contractor.
Agreed?”

“…Yes.
I cannot deny it.”

The duke’s shoulders slumped.

“But the ceremony is approaching.
We have neither the budget nor the time to commission a new dress…”

Sylvia spoke anxiously.
That was my cue.

“We do.
A material that is cheap, light, and incomparably beautiful.”

I smiled slyly.

“Sylvia.
Please bring the gift we received from the Empire the other day.”

What was brought in was a single bolt of cloth.
It shimmered with a pearly sheen.

“This is…?”

“The Eastern Empire’s specialty, Tiansan silk.”

It was something Princess Hilda had sent as an apology for the vacuum cleaner incident.

“In the Empire, it is used as wyvern raiment.
Stronger than steel and resistant to blades.
And yet…”

I lifted the cloth gently.
It caught the air and floated softly.

“It is lighter than feathers.”

“Oh…!”

The duke let out a breath of admiration.

“Beautiful…
Even without gemstones, the fabric itself seems to glow.”

“Yes.
Using this, the total weight of the dress can be kept to around two kilograms.
Minimal embroidery will still make it stand out.”

I pressed the advantage.

“Moreover, there is political value in using this material.
It visually symbolizes the alliance with the Empire through the attire of the royal consort.
A royal bride who incorporates the winds of a new era into tradition—
Isn’t that impeccable in terms of public image?”

“…Hmm.”

The duke groaned.

Political merit.
Public perception.
And most importantly, weight reduction.

After a long silence, he nodded heavily.

“…Very well.
We will adopt that proposal.”

“Thank you very much.”

I pumped my fist internally.

Victory.

I was free from the twenty-kilogram restraint.
Two kilograms was about the weight of a thick coat.
That, at least, was survivable.

“…Impressive, Eliana.”

Sylvia murmured quietly.
She picked up the new fabric, her eyes shining at its lightness.

“To be honest…
I have injured my back many times dressing others in that overly heavy gown.
…You have my thanks.”

“The feeling is mutual, Sylvia.
Our waists are national treasures.”

We exchanged a glance and shared a small smile.

A conspiracy was born.

“However!”

The duke struck the floor with his cane.

“The dress may be lighter, but the ceremonial procedures will not be reduced!
The ten-kilometer procession proceeds as planned!
The meaning of the pilgrimage lies in walking it with one’s own feet!”

“…Tch.”

I almost clicked my tongue.

So distance itself was non-negotiable.

But I would not back down here.
The dress had been lightened.
Next came transportation.

“…Very well.
Then I shall return to walking practice.”

I offered a graceful bow.

Upon returning to the library, I locked the doors and headed straight for the sealed archives.
The founding documents from three hundred years ago should be there.

“Just you watch, you old fox…
The law is something that can be twisted through interpretation.”

I dove into the dust-covered mountain of ancient texts.

I needed only one line.

An exception clause that overturned the phrase “must be on foot.”

And several hours later, I found it.

It was the ultimate weapon—
One that legitimized my reclusive spirit.