The sharp clinking of cutlery broke the heavy silence of the dining room. I sat across from a middle-aged man, watching him slice through his steak.
With his striking blonde hair and violet eyes, he was unmistakably Lord Percival Baimery—Lilithia’s father, the Baron. As I stared at him blankly, a sudden dread pooled in my chest.
Our eyes met.
I quickly flicked my gaze away.
“Lilithia.”
“Yes…!”
My shoulders tensed at the Baron’s sudden call.
“I was told you were feeling unwell last night. Are you alright now?”
“Unwell…?”
“I heard that you went straight to bed after returning from yesterday’s banquet.”
Noticing my blank expression, the Baron narrowed his eyes. “Lilithia. You haven’t been up to mischief again, have you?”
Panic flared inside me. What on earth had the original owner of this body done to make the Baron look at her with such deep suspicion? Caught between panic and the truth, my eyes darted nervously.
Ahem.
A timely cough broke the tension. I glanced toward the sound to see Norman giving me a discreet wink.
I immediately realized he was covering for my mysterious absence the night before. I hurried to answer.
“Of course! I felt a bit under the weather after the banquet, so I turned in early. Strangely enough, a good night’s sleep cured me completely.”
The Baron remained unconvinced. He dropped his knife and fork with a sharp clatter and turned to Norman.
“Norman, did Lilithia really go to bed early?”
“Yes, My Lord. I personally confirmed that the young lady had fallen asleep.”
“Is that so? Well, if Norman says so, I suppose it’s true.”
The Baron’s suspicious gaze finally softened. He picked his utensils back up. “Eat. Your food will get cold.”
“Yes, Father.”
I let out a quiet sigh of relief, though my stomach churned. Phew… I’m going to get indigestion trying to survive this meal.
Once dinner concluded, tea was served. The Baron clasped his hands together and leaned forward.
“Lilithia, there is something important I need to tell you.”
“Something to tell me?”
“Yes. As you may or may not know, the Trade Guild’s operations haven’t been running smoothly lately. I haven’t troubled you with these matters before, but…”
The Baron paused, looking intently at me.
“I must urgently travel abroad to handle these trade issues myself as the Guild Master. It will likely take a few months. Because of this, I need you to temporarily manage the capital’s Trade Guild.”
My vision blurred, and I stuttered, “M-Manage the Trade Guild?”
Even though I was just an extra who had transmigrated into a noble lady’s body, I had held one simple dream: I won’t die from overwork in this life! I can finally live comfortably! Managing a trade guild completely shattered that expectation.
I refuse to die from overwork twice!
I desperately waved both hands in protest. “I’ve never done anything like this! What if I make a massive mistake? Father, surely it’s better to find someone experienced!”
“I considered that,” the Baron said, clenching his fist with a confident smile. “Lilithia, you can be a bit of a tomboy at times, but you are the spitting image of me. I trust you completely.”
He stood up, walked over, and gripped my shoulders firmly. “Don’t feel burdened. I’ll teach you the basics before I leave in a few days. Even when I’m gone, you can consult me via the communication device. Just protect the guild and don’t worry.”
My eyes shook with despair as I looked into his fiercely trusting eyes. My dream of living a peaceful, carefree life was instantly pulverized.
What an absolute disaster.
The next day, I arrived at what was supposed to be a grand trade guild in a bustling district, only to stare in sheer disappointment at a remarkably humble structure.
Wondering if I had the right address, I squinted at the wall. A hastily painted sign proudly read: [Baimery Trade Guild].
Winnie blinked beside me. “Why aren’t you going inside, Miss?”
“Ah. Right.”
It looked less like a trade guild and more like a run-down corner shop. Well, maybe the inside is different! I thought, clinging to a thread of optimism as I pushed the door open.
Inside, things weren’t terrible. The first-floor display cases and tables were stocked with goods, and staff members were busy sweeping and polishing.
“Let’s check the second floor,” I said.
As I climbed the wooden stairs, my jaw dropped. Thick cobwebs choked the ceiling, and every step produced a loud, pathetic squeak. The air was thick with stagnant dust, forcing me to slap a hand over my mouth to keep from coughing.
“Winnie, is this a storage room?” I choked out.
Winnie pointed toward a desk buried beneath mountains of dusty paperwork. “Judging by that setup… I think this is the Guild Master’s office.”
“No way. Absolutely not.”
I marched over, desperate to prove it wrong, only to spot a tarnished nameplate reading: [Guild Master Percival Baimery]. My soul practically left my body. I couldn’t believe this hazardous waste zone was my father’s office.
“Unbelievable…”
“I heard the Baron hasn’t visited in a while, but this is extreme,” Winnie muttered, covering her nose. “We desperately need to clean.”
“L-Let’s go back down first.”
The tickle in my throat was unbearable. But as I turned toward the stairs, a loud clash echoed from below.
Peering down, I saw a green-haired girl in glasses frozen in horror, staring at a shattered item on the floor with an ashen face.
“The Guild Master said he’d fire me if I messed up again. What do I do?” she whispered, gripping her head in absolute despair. “My entire last month’s salary went to paying for my brother’s expenses.”
Winnie’s face lit up. “It’s Carri! She stopped working at the manor after her younger brother was born. I didn’t know she moved to the Trade Guild.”
Since she used to work at our estate, I knew her. I stepped down the stairs, the loud creaking of the wood alerting Carri. She snapped her head up, her miserable expression instantly melting into relief and joy when she saw me.
“Miss Lilithia? How did you get down from upstairs?” she asked, tilting her head.
“There was no one downstairs when we arrived,” Winnie noted.
“Ah, I must have been in the back! But what brings you here?”
“My father just put me in charge of the Trade Guild,” I replied plainly.
Carri gasped, a brilliant smile breaking across her face. “So, the new acting Guild Master is you, Miss Lilithia? Oh, I’m so happy!”
Then, reality rushed back, and she looked down at the broken shards with a wince. “Um… did you see that? You probably won’t believe me if I say the wind blew it over, right? Please just deduct it from my salary or next month’s salary or whenever I can pay it back.”
Figuring out how to run the guild took precedence over a broken vase. Besides, I needed someone to help me clean that disastrous second-floor office. I looked at the teary-eyed girl and offered a compromise: “How about we forget about the broken item, provided you help me clean the second floor?”
Meanwhile, Freyer stood before an ordinary-looking tavern. Behind its shabby exterior hid Silverton, the empire’s most elusive intelligence guild.
Freyer kept his composure as he stepped inside and took a seat at the bar. The bartender immediately approached.
“May I take your order?”
“I’m looking for the fruit of the golden flower that blooms in the darkness.”
The bartender’s eyes narrowed. “An unusual request for a first-time guest. Please wait a moment.”
“I can wait.”
While the bartender slipped away, Freyer surveyed the room. A few patrons were glaring at him warily. A newcomer using the password. They’re on edge.
Freyer remained entirely unbothered, calmly waiting until the bartender returned.
“I’ve prepared a private room for you. This way.”
Freyer followed him down a gloomy corridor until a wall-mounted secret door swung open. Inside, a man with long amber hair covering one eye stood waiting by a table.
“Please, have a seat. I never expected to host such a distinguished visitor in a place like this,” the man said with a faint smile, placing a hand over his chest and bowing. “I am Bilion, the Guild Master of Silverton. You may call me Lon. Your Imperial Highness, the Second Prince.”
There was no point hiding it. Naturally, an information broker would figure it out instantly.
Freyer sat across from him and got straight to the point. “Guild Master Lon, I am looking for the owner of the name engraved on this item.”
Freyer pulled a black ribbon from his pocket and placed it on the table.
Bilion picked it up, inspected it closely, and frowned slightly. He set it back down. “I regret to inform Your Highness, but it will be impossible to find an owner with just this.”
“I was told there is no information Silverton cannot find,” Freyer countered, his eyes narrowing sharply.
Bilion cleared his throat and glanced away. “That is true, but the writing engraved on this ribbon is not a person’s name.”