The Matter of How Only a Political Rival Duke, Not My Own Family, Recognized My Worth After I Was Disowned ~When I Turned a Remote Frontier Territory Into the World’s Greatest City, the Noble Lady Assigned to Supervise Me Became the Best Fiancée~ - Episode 2: The Ice Rose and the Investment Contract

Episode 2: The Ice Rose and the Investment Contract

Five days after departing the royal capital.

Borne along by a crude, jostling carriage that could not compare to the luxurious coach of House Silford, I watched the scenery flowing past the window.

“Young master… are you really sure? Even now you could return to the duke—”

Across from me, the old butler Duncan spoke with a pained expression. He was the only loyal retainer who had offered to accompany me into exile.

“Don’t worry, Duncan. And besides, I’m not ‘young master’ anymore. From now on call me Baron of Grindle or something.”

“But that Grindle is a cursed land—”

“It’s not a curse. It’s simply that no one has ‘managed’ it properly.”

Data for the Grindle territory kept unfurling in my mind. It was being projected by my skill [Territory Design]. Lean land, polluted marshes, jagged rocky hills. But all of them were merely “solvable problems.”

Compared to the reckless projects I handled in my previous life, this was practically easy mode.

Eventually the carriage arrived at the only village at the entrance to Grindle.

Earthen houses with crumbling walls, villagers watching at a distance with eyes drained of life. A scene that looked as if despair had taken physical form.

As I stepped down from the carriage, I was thinking about the project that was about to begin. It was when a sound like a distant rumble approached.

A single carriage came into view. It was outrageously lavish and entirely out of place on the dilapidated road at the village entrance. A black lacquered body, a crest worked in gold.

“That is…! No, Lord Noah!”

Duncan’s face changed.

“The Valenstein Ducal House…! The Silfords’ political rival—why here!?”

The Valenstein Ducal House — the other great power that vied with my family for dominance of the kingdom.

The carriage door opened quietly. A woman stepped out.

Long hair shining like silver thread, skin white as snow. Amethyst eyes that held a keen light. A face so perfectly formed it looked like a work of art. It was devoid of any hint of feeling.

A peerless beauty acclaimed in society as the “Ice Rose.” Isabella von Valenstein, House Valenstein’s only daughter.

She was breathtakingly beautiful. Yet her eyes were clearly appraising me.

“Pleased to meet you, Noah von Silford. —No, you are the Baron of Grindle now, aren’t you.”

Her voice rolled like a bell yet contained a barb.

“I am Isabella von Valenstein. I bring a message from my father, Duke Valenstein.”

“…What business does a rival duke have with one who was just disowned?”

I kept my composure and replied.

She lifted the corner of her mouth in a slight smile that was far too beautiful to call mere mockery.

“A modest ‘investment’ to mark the beginning of your new life.”

What she offered was a sheet of parchment — a contract.

When I skimmed it, Duncan drew a breath.

The terms were extraordinary: a large sum of non-repayable financial aid, the dispatch of several clerks and technicians. In return, the Valenstein family would receive preferential negotiation rights for all goods produced in the Grindle territory.

(I see. This is not an ‘investment.’ It’s ‘grooming.’)

They would place the troublemaker disowned by the Silfords under their protection, earn his gratitude, and could use any mistake I made as leverage against House Silford. A cunning move one could easily imagine from a wily old duke.

“…You are quite talkative. Will you accept or decline?”

When I remained silent, Isabella asked coldly. In her eyes was the contempt that said, “You’ll have no choice but to cling to this aid, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course. I gratefully accept.”

I nodded plainly.

“—However, there is one condition.”

“…What did you say?”

For the first time, her perfect expression wavered slightly.

“This level of ‘investment’ won’t even cover the down payment for my plan.”

I snapped my finger against the contract and spoke.

“If Duke Valenstein truly intends to bet on this venture called ‘me,’ then you will need to provide at least three times the amount written in this contract.”

“…Are you sane?”

For the first time emotion flavored Isabella’s voice — incredulity and displeasure.

“I would like to hear the basis for that. That, your grand ‘plan’ of yours.”

Just what she wanted to hear.

I turned to the ice-like noblewoman before me and gave a confident smile.

“Basis, you say? Very well. Then I will tell you. I will show you only the first stage of the project I am about to undertake.”

I pointed to this wasteland filled with despair.

“Within one year, I will turn Grindle into a granary that supplies the royal capital’s stomach.”

Isabella von Valenstein’s amethyst eyes widened as if she just heard something outrageous.