A slightly mocking tone.
It was no different from Rick’s usual attitude. He was especially antagonistic toward nobles when he wore the Skull Mask.
But there was one thing that made uneasy—
‘Rick. You’re going on that expedition too, aren’t you?’
It might not just be sarcasm.
Just now, it sounded exactly like he was saying, I’ll make sure you don’t achieve any accomplishnts.
“Hm. It almost sounds like you don’t want anyone to achieve anything significant.”
“Not at all! The people suffering from monsters deserve salvation. And if their savior happens to be the young lord of the future, then it would be an even more perfect conclusion.”
“…While the ones fighting monsters alongside him, tending to his horse, and cooking als for the soldiers go unrecognized?”
“Ah.”
Rick’s eyes widened slightly. Then, as if a knot had co undone, he burst into laughter.
“Haha! This is why I like—cough, ahem. This is why I can’t help but see you as a good drinking buddy. You understand exactly what I an.”
“I appreciate the sentint, but don’t get your hopes up too much. I’m still a noble. I won’t be giving up this position with my own hands.”
Since I was already wearing the mask, I allowed myself to say sothing embarrassing.
Inside my head, I was still an ordinary citizen from Korea, but I had the sheer luck of being reincarnated as a noble. I wasn’t about to throw that fortune away.
Rick, don’t see in a good light! It’s embarrassing!
“If necessary, I could even co up with nonsense like, ‘It’s ultimately beneficial for the masses if a single leader gets all the credit, as it ensures stable governance in the future.’”
“You must really hate being praised by . Especially since you have no intention of actually making that argunt.”
“Ah…”
“Let say this again. I still think you’re an exceptional person.”
Good thing I was wearing a mask.
My face felt hot.
“…Don’t flatter too much. It’s not like we’ll be close for a long ti.”
“Huh? Why not? You don’t like hanging out with ?”
Rick dragged out the end of his sentence playfully. Why was he suddenly acting charming?
But the answer was obvious.
“It’s not a matter of liking or disliking. By the end of the season, I might end up married and living as a ‘lady’ tending to my household. There’s no guarantee I’ll keep coming to the salon.”
“And being married would stop you from coming here because…? Unless, of course, you end up trapped by a possessive husband who won’t let you take a single step out of your bedroom at night.”
“……”
“…Wait. Is your fiancé actually possessive? Ahem, that is, if you have one.”
“Haha! Well, who knows? I could have a fiancé. But I’ve never had a ‘possessive’ fiancé before.”
“…I see.”
“Of course.”
I smiled as I said it, but… the truth was, the reason I hesitated earlier was because of the look Tristan gave in the dressing room on the day of the charity performance.
Not every man loves his fiancée.
But even if he doesn’t love her, he might still be possessive enough to want to keep her within reach.
I recalled Tristan’s expression—and how, even in that mont, I had found him beautiful. To shake off the mory, I changed the subject back.
“Let’s get back to the bet. ‘Will the third prince and the young duke achieve rit and return safely?’ That’s our wager, right? Two subjects, each with four possible outcos. That makes sixteen possible choices.”
Tristan achieves rit and returns safely.
Tristan achieves rit but doesn’t return safely.
Tristan doesn’t achieve rit but returns safely.
Everything goes to hell…
Arthur’s outco also has four variations, so all possibilities amount to four tis four—sixteen in total.
“That’s a lot. Would you like to narrow it down, Skull Mask?”
“Then let’s focus on the prince. Choose one of the four options.”
“Hm…”
I knew the future.
Arthur would achieve rit and return safely. And around that ti, Tristan, who was on the verge of losing everything, would make one last desperate move—approaching Maria in the capital, only to get beaten up by the second male lead.
But now, Tristan was joining the expedition to Blue Atrium.
Everything’s changed.
If I had placed this bet back in March, I would have gone with ‘Fails, returns safely.’
‘What? Tristan’s tagging along on Arthur’s mission? He’s obviously just going to be a hindrance, fail miserably, and get dragged off by monsters—only for Arthur to swoop in and save him. He’ll return in disgrace without accomplishing anything!’
But now I had seen what Tristan was capable of at the hunting competition.
That day, he didn’t just display bravery against the monster—he also showed leadership.
And even though no one was around to praise him, he took the initiative to oversee road maintenance for the safe progress of the event.
Tristan was a capable leader.
He would surely…
“Success… Ah, no, wait.”
I almost said, He will succeed and return safely.
But will he really?
Honestly! Lately, I had started seeing Tristan in a more favorable light. I had my reasons, but—
I need to consider whether I’ve been truly objective.
There was a chance I was being too generous just because I had grown sowhat attached to him.
“You said you listen to people’s opinions at taverns, right? What’s the general sentint about the third prince? Has there been any good talk about his monster-slaying?”
Judging by Baroness yer and my parents, it seed like Tristan’s reputation in high society had improved.
But the people who were actually with him in the field might have a different view.
Rick pondered for a mont before responding.
“Wouldn’t telling you put at a disadvantage?”
“Ah, that’s true.”
“…Still, for you, Lady, I’ll share a little. First, they say he’s unbelievably arrogant.”
“Yes.”
“He has imnse confidence in his swordsmanship. He did kill a monster and earn sothing to back up his bravado, but… his cockiness annoyed everyone.”
“I see.”
“He’s also difficult to work with. Commanders are supposed to issue orders and step back, but he insists on sticking around the front lines. They say he’s soone no one wants to work with—or be friends with.”
“I see! That’s really insufferable.”
Good! That matched exactly with my own impressions!
Rick’s eyes glead.
“He’s a real bastard, isn’t he?”
“Oh, yes.”
“I knew you’d say that, Lady.”
“Yes. He’s truly insufferable.”
He was a bastard.
The bastard fated to beco my bastard.
Rick chuckled in satisfaction.
“So, have you decided?”
“Yes. ‘He will achieve rit.’ And… ‘He will not return safely.’”
“Hmm? I thought you’d bet on ‘He won’t achieve rit.’”
“He’s strong. He’ll definitely accomplish sothing.”
That part was easy to decide.
Tristan was strong.
And to add a slightly underhanded justification—
Arthur isn’t the type to hog all the credit.
If Tristan contributes even slightly, Arthur will definitely share the recognition.
Rick nodded.
“I see. The rit he earned at the hunting competition wasn’t a lie. Then why bet on ‘He won’t return safely’?”
“He’ll get himself injured from overreaching.”
“Hahahaha! …Wait. Lady, you’re not planning to argue that even a tiny scar ans he didn’t return safely, are you?”
How did you know?
…Well, that would be too transparent.
“Of course noot.”
“……”
“…If you’re worried, let’s define the terms. He must be at risk of death, suffer permanent bodily damage, or have a scar at least 10 cm long to be considered ‘not safe.’”
“…Hmm. Fine. Deal.”
Rick hesitated, then nodded.
Honestly, I believed Tristan would achieve rit and return safely.
But if my fiancé accomplished nothing, got injured, and I lost the bet on top of that, it would be too sad.
So I gave the wager a little twist.
“Then, shall we write up the bet contract?”
I raised my hand to call over a server.
Rick shook his head.
“There’s still one thing left.”
“Huh?”
“We haven’t decided what I get if you lose. I have no interest in coins, after all.”
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