Chapter 53: The Scout

“Phew…”

The entire schedule for the first day of the tournament is finally over, and the spectators begin to head home.
The participating knights do as well.
Some choose to stay overnight in the tents, especially those who came from far away.

We simply didn’t have the resources—really, the budget—to prepare lodgings for everyone, and this was agreed upon in advance.
If this tournament proves profitable and there’s demand for a second one, perhaps dedicated accommodations will be built someday.

I remain in the room reserved for the operations team.
Sitting in a chair and resting… while waiting for a “visitor.”

By visitor, I don’t mean anyone with an appointment.
Just that there’s a sense that someone will come to see me.
After all, there were several people who took notice of me when I appeared and introduced myself at the tournament.

My divorced ex-husband, Viscount Harird Carlson, whom I hadn’t seen in over three and a half years.
And his current wife, Viscountess Livia Carlson.
I still don’t understand why she seems so fixated on me.

Sir Greg Godwin, captain of the Pharmason ducal knights, the man who once framed Sir Richard and caused him severe injury.
An inferiority complex and jealousy toward Sir Richard, perhaps.
I saw the intense glares he directed at him.
And yet, the vulgar looks he cast toward me, his partner.
I expect he’ll try something eventually.
Whether that will be today, I don’t know.

Prince Julian came to greet me while still wearing his mask, so he likely won’t come again.
In the first place, he isn’t actually seeking me out.

There’s also a slim chance that one of the Pharmason duke and duchess might appear.
Guiding Harird and Livia to such a public, glamorous venue would go against Duchess Noralia’s wishes.
As for what Duke Jack might be thinking, that’s uncertain.
He may have already forgotten trying to frame me.

“The people who were truly harmful to me…”

First, my ex-husband, who took another woman while married to me.

That point is far too “late” to matter now, and I have no lingering feelings.
The disappointment I felt back then has long since passed.
I feel no anger anymore.
He’s someone from my past.
After all, it’s been a year and a half since the divorce.
If I had lived a miserable life during that time, I might still hold resentment.

But I met a new partner, got engaged, and am now moving forward, supporting each other toward the future.
I’m happy.
That’s why it’s already become something long past.
It really is “too late.”
Still, if Harird were to appear in front of me, I’d probably be allowed one sarcastic remark or two.
As for compensation, since the divorce was my own choice, there’s nothing.

Next, the “Saint,” Lady Livia.
What she did to me was take my husband while I was still married.
That alone is unforgivable, but…
Just like with Harird, it’s too late to matter now.
If she appeared before me, I’d probably toss out a snide comment.

“Oh, I see.
Wishing you happiness.
Ah, but I hear you’re having a hard time?”

Something like that.
Years ago would have been different, but now it’s still too late.
From her perspective too, a divorced former wife should be irrelevant.
And yet, she stared at me so intently.
Well, curiosity is natural.
She’s fundamentally someone I can’t understand, so in that sense, I’m cautious.

Then there’s Sir Godwin, who framed Sir Richard.
In a way, he’s the one most likely to cause me harm now.
Still, he hasn’t done anything directly to me so far.
I’d like him to apologize to Sir Richard, but…
Sir Richard himself probably thinks it’s too late as well.
After all, I healed his once-useless right arm.

And then, the person who was most harmful to me.
That would be Duke Jack Pharmason.

At the very least, he deliberately tried to ruin me.
Perhaps because I was beneath his notice, merely a baron’s wife.
He intentionally prepared a “fake me” and tried to spread slander.

Despite having time to prepare, I abandoned divorce negotiations with Harird and fled because I sensed the presence of a “mastermind.”
At the time, escaping took priority.
I believe that was the right choice.
If Duke Pharmason had done nothing, perhaps things wouldn’t have become so twisted.
Still, even though he was harmful to me, I doubt he would now go out of his way to come see me.

So no one is guaranteed to come.
Which makes waiting like this unnecessary.
And yet, I have a firm premonition that something will happen.
Perhaps it’s the lingering effect of that prophetic dream I once had.

And that premonition proves correct.

“Leader, you have a visitor.”

“A visitor?
Who might that be?”

The one calling me leader is a member of the tournament operations team.

“Well, um.
Someone from the Albright Trading Company…”

“…A trading company?”

Oh.
That’s unexpected.
Who could that be…?
Wait.
Albright Trading Company?

“Please show them in.”

“Yes, understood.”

I had assumed it would be one of the people I’d just considered.
Perhaps I was being self-conscious.

The visitor turns out to be a woman.
What immediately catches my eye is her hair.
The same light blue as mine.

“Nice to meet you, Sister Electra.
I am Maylin Albright, wife of the head of the Albright Trading Company.”

“…So it’s you.”

I’ve heard of her.
When I left the Carlson household, I prepared several measures to throw off pursuers.
She was the one who took advantage of my plan to slip into the Carlson household.
In other words, the person who played my “double.”

We fall silent and stare at each other for a moment.
She doesn’t seem to bear any malice toward me.
At least, probably not.
She didn’t infiltrate the Carlson household to frame me.

She did so at the behest of Duchess Noralia Pharmason, and then—

“Lady Albright, I never expected we’d have the chance to meet like this.
Though we never met directly, I’ve heard about you.
You took in the former servants of Viscount Carlson’s household.”

“Yes.
Albright employed them.
Sister Electra—no, how should I address you now?”

How to address me, huh.

I’m currently affiliated with the church, with my base in the Grandra border territory.
Being in the capital is technically an assignment, and I plan to return to Grandra eventually.

My family home is the Vent viscountcy.
Though I left home and divorced, I chose not to return there.
I’m permitted to use the family name, but…

My elder brother, Viscount Beltmas Vent, now lives there with his wife and children.
I didn’t want to trouble them by returning.
Especially since there was once the risk of pursuers from Duke Pharmason.
Given all that, it’s hard to call myself a “viscount’s daughter” anymore.
I’m divorced, and my age doesn’t help either.

“Battlefield Goddess” is just a nickname, not a status marker.
And I don’t want to be called that in daily life anyway.

Only the operations team calls me leader.
Perhaps “operations chair” suits my current position best.

“Sister is fine.
But since you’re here as the wife of a trading company head, perhaps it would be better for me to hear you out as the operations chair.
There are things I can decide at my discretion.”

I offer her a polite, merchant-facing smile.
I hold no personal grudge against her.
If anything, she helped me.
But she’s not someone I can fully let my guard down around.
If she had appeared before the tournament, I’d assume she wanted to get involved as a business opportunity.
But the tournament has already begun.
So what could a merchant want now?

“Then may I call you Lady Electra?”

“Yes, that’s fine.
Lady Albright, what business brings you here?”

“First, I owe you an apology.”

“…An apology?”

I tilt my head.

“For a long time, I used your name.
I apologize for that.”

“Oh, that… yes.
I accept your apology.”

Her intentions at the time were likely due to the duchess’s orders.

“And is that all?”

“No.
The reason I came today is to recruit you.”

“…Recruit?”

“Yes.
I know better than anyone your business sense and the trust people place in you.
I’ve heard that despite having the backing of House Ryuswell, you personally managed most of this tournament and brought it to fruition.”

“Well, word certainly travels fast.”

Mostly thanks to Lady Katalina’s endless unreasonable demands.

“Would you like to run a subsidiary company under the Albright Trading Company, using your name?
The employees would be the former servants of House Carlson.”

“…!”

It was a proposal I never expected.