Chapter 142 - The Stubborn and Leashed One
After the dining event between the Monster Subjugation Force and the Finance Department, Grato made his way to the office of the head of the Finance Department.
Once both their attendants were dismissed from the room, he pulled out a bundle of letters from a crimson leather document case.
Laid out atop the sleek black table were four letters of recommendation.
“These are letters of recommendation regarding the Rossetti Company’s dealings with the royal castle. The senders are Duke Gastoni, the Merchant Guild Master, the Tailors Guild Master, and the Adventurer Guild Vice Master—even you wouldn’t dare fight against this, would you?"
The one placed closest to Gild was the letter from Duke Gastoni.
Not from the former Duchess, Althea, but from her son—the current duke.
“Why didn’t you present these before the briefing?"
Gild abandoned his polite tone, his voice flat as he stared back at Grato.
“Had I done so, you would have stripped me of my position on the spot... Well, no matter. I’ll apologize to the involved parties. I’ve already heard a thing or two myself."
The man seated across from him made no effort to hide his displeasure, refusing to meet his gaze.
Faced with the distant figure of a once-close friend, Grato clenched his back teeth.
Steeling himself, he rose and bowed deeply.
“Gild... I failed to protect your brother. I’m sorry. I won’t ask for forgiveness—not for the rest of my life."
“That brief apology reached me by letter. It was some time after the funeral, wasn’t it?"
“I also apologize for not attending the funeral. That was inexcusable."
“Enough. Sit down. True, you didn’t come to my brother’s funeral. Did you think I’d hold that against you?"
His voice was calm. Grato returned to his seat, shifting his gaze to the wall.
As the silence stretched, he reluctantly parted his lips again.
“...From the day I returned to the capital, I was quarantined in the outskirts. I wasn’t able to move freely until eight days later."
“An illness? I never heard a word about that."
“Delayed-acting monster venom. It was rotting me from the inside. Several other unit members were the same. They thought it might be contagious, so we were isolated. A gag order was issued to prevent panic in the capital."
“Why didn’t you say anything after the quarantine was lifted?"
“I sent a letter requesting to apologize... but your mother returned it. She said she understood it was duty, but asked me to wait until things had settled before meeting the family. I made a promise to her."
“I never heard about that either. Besides, my mother fell ill soon after—"
Gild cut himself off.
Grato still hadn’t received permission from Gild’s mother.
“...Right. And so, I’ve been running from it all until today."
“You made a mistake by keeping that promise with my mother. Honestly, you haven’t changed since our academy days. Still as inarticulate and lacking in words as ever, Grato!"
The man spat out his name with a strained voice. Grato nodded deeply.
He had no rebuttal.
“You’re right. If you hadn’t helped me before the exams, I might not have even graduated. Some things never change."
As he spoke, he finally met Gild’s eyes directly.
The once-vibrant golden hair was now streaked with white, and his amber eyes had darkened a shade deeper.
The wrinkles carved into his face had transformed his once-lively expression into something tense and wary.
The changes were things Grato himself bore on his own body.
“Still, budget aside, why drag Rossetti into this? It’s not like you."
“The budget was genuinely high. We surveyed standard small stoves at market prices. If there’s room to lower costs, it’s the Finance Department’s job to push for it. As for Rossetti... I suppose I meant to drive the final nail in."
“Final nail?"
“I’ve been considering stepping down soon. I thought this might be a good opportunity."
“At your age? It’s too early. And what do you mean by ‘final nail’?"
“Tall, red-haired, fair-skinned, with a nice waist. All your preferences, weren’t they?"
“What in the world are you—"
Grato’s crimson gaze wavered slightly.
He didn’t deny it, but this was absolutely not the time or place for such a conversation.
“A young woman close to the youngest child of Scalfarotto—the infamous ‘heartbreaker’? A newcomer merchant with no title. For her sake alone, the Monster Subjugation Force Captain personally requested royal confections from the palace, prepared high-end Eastern ceramics for guests, and even summoned her to his office despite it being just a delivery—shifting his entire afternoon schedule for her. That maid came to our department and gossiped about it with her friends."
“...I made an oversight. But since when does the Finance Department monitor maids’ chatter?"
“Of course we do. One misstep in my department, and heads roll—literally. We have informants planted. That maid had been cozying up to ours, sharing stories about Scalfarotto’s youngest over meals. I let it slide at first... but Grato, do a full background check on all the Monster Subjugation Force’s staff and maids. The unit’s reputation isn’t just dragged down by its soldiers."
“My apologies. I failed to manage them properly."
The unit’s staff and maids had all undergone background checks and required guarantors. Grato had trusted that blindly.
His gratitude toward Dahlia had clouded his judgment, making him forget how others might perceive his actions.
He never imagined the unit’s maids would gossip about visitors and personnel to other departments.
“Rumors are easier to erase if you control how they spread. That’s why I gave the maid orders on the spot—to deliberately dirty the Chairwoman Rossetti’s dress. In exchange, I’d overlook her leaking confidential information and even ensure her severance pay wasn’t docked. Then, if I, a member of the department of finance, publicly dismissed it as ‘malicious gossip,’ I assumed Rossetti would distance herself from you. Even if your unit protested, even if that woman had some backing, my resignation would’ve settled things. I never expected her to confront me head-on, though."
Grato fixed his crimson eyes on the man, who chuckled oddly at the mention of being confronted.
“So the rumors never spread because you orchestrated it... Why go that far? My reputation tanking wouldn’t have inconvenienced you."
“...It wasn’t just for you. The Monster Subjugation Force is vital to national defense. If it wobbles, and the budgets go haywire, it’ll give me a headache. As the Finance Minister, I’m used to being hated. One more grudge changes nothing. Call it lingering sentiment from our youth."
“But why use such a roundabout approach? A direct warning would’ve sufficed."
“If I could’ve done that, I would’ve!"
The snapped retort was the closest to his student-day self yet.
Now that he thought of it, this man had always been stubborn.
And like Grato himself, he’d struggled to express things plainly.
The mask slipped—irritation flashed openly across Gild’s face.
“Honestly, you invite misunderstandings too often. Even today, you had to theatrically corner her in front of everyone... Just don’t go making Dalila worry."
“Don’t be absurd! Think about our ages! Last time was purely gratitude for her help, and this time, I had no choice—you Finance vultures were circling. And are you still pestering my wife as her ‘childhood friend’?"
“Pestering her?! Dalila’s my cousin! Of course I’d worry! Besides, I know all about your ‘glorious’ social exploits at the academy."
“That’s ancient history..."
Grato’s voice faltered. He might have been a bit... active back then.
Rubbing his forehead, he exhaled.
Gild and his wife were cousins—practically siblings, given how overprotective he was.
Come to think of it, before the wedding, Gild had even threatened, “Make Dalila cry, and I’ll cut you down."
Who knew that would resurface here?
“Still, Rossetti’s out of your league, Grato."
“Harsh. Still bitter about losing the budget fight?"
“No. When I joked about resigning as an apology, she smiled and stopped me."
「待て、お前は一体何をしている？ 私がなぜこれを出さなかったと……」
“Wait—what exactly are you up to? You even asked why I didn’t present these letters to you earlier?"
The unguarded slip made Gild snort.
“She said she’d ‘let it slide,’ so I should allocate the unit’s budget properly, keep working as Finance Minister since I was still young, and go and talk to you. When I asked what she wanted in return, she just said she just wanted the unit to eat, sleep, and return home safely. Too good to be true. That woman’s impossible to read."
“Gild... I don’t think Rosetti can be read."
“Yeah. Now I owe her, with no way out. Who’s backing her?"
“I’d rather not say, but..."
Grato sighed theatrically.
The amber eyes staring at him narrowed, then darted away.
“I’m not fighting it. Just thinking of how I have to go around giving apologies and the incoming backlash give me a headache. Resigning might’ve been easier..."
Gild rested his forehead on his interlaced fingers atop the desk, looking like a man suffering from a severe migraine.
“I won’t deny it. But since everything’s already been ‘swept under the rug,’ I’ll join you in making apologies."
“I’ll need to come up with a decent excuse then. So—where does this leash of mine lead? Duke Gastoni, after all? Or someone else?"
“‘Leash,’ you say? I’ll hold you to that wording, Gild."
“Fine. Shall I have a covenant spell cast on me while we’re at it? I don’t care either way."
His reply came in a voice dripping with resignation.
“Dahlia Rossetti stands entirely on her own."
“...What?"
Gild lifted his head after a beat, his delayed response sounding almost foolish.
For all his sharp intellect, his reluctance to accept the truth seemed to be slowing his comprehension.
“Rossetti has no backer. At most, she’s got Volfred beside her and guilds cooperating for mutual profit. She likely said exactly what she thought—that you shouldn’t resign over her, that you should focus on your work. I doubt she considered any personal advantage. As for wanting you to talk to me... Well, being handled with kid gloves by someone my daughter’s age is somewhat humiliating."
“That woman is utterly incomprehensible..."
“You already agreed to the wording, Gild."
Grato’s smirk earned him a dramatic click of the tongue from the other man.
“Enough. Better leashed to her than to some incompetent fool... immediately arrange for a noble title recommendation for Chairwoman Rossetti—your house and the vice-captain’s should make the recommendation, and I will co-sign with the vice-minister. I’ll secure Duke Gastoni’s endorsement during the apology rounds too."
“You’re as quick to act as ever."
“Shut up. You’re just slow. If I’m being leashed, I’ll at least get her a title promptly."
“...Still as stubborn as ever."
Though Grato murmured this with a smile, it was completely ignored.
While the distance between them had narrowed somewhat, returning to how things used to be was likely impossible.
“Consider this next part a soliloquy... The Monster Subjugation Force will receive its full budget allocation. This term’s settlement shows a surplus. At the next meeting, I could propose additional provisions—enough dried barracuda for the troops to enjoy during expeditions, perhaps."
“What a generous soliloquy. What’s the price?"
“Let’s settle it with some fine red wine."
This time, it was Gild who smirked—the exact same expression and words he’d used back at the academy when Grato, on the verge of failing, had begged for his help.
The memory brought Grato a faint pang of loneliness.
How many times had they drunk together as students, and later as colleagues?
Sharing meaningless chatter, laughing, joking around, even fighting—only to reconcile over more drinks.
Though they’d never again clink glasses side by side, those memories remained etched in his heart.
“The wines you favor are expensive. My purse will be weeping."
“Spare me your whining about empty coin purses. I’ll cover your white wine—you can drink it beside me."
Grato froze momentarily at Gild’s offhand remark, spoken while avoiding eye contact. Then, like a boy, his face broke into a radiant smile.
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