Two handkerchiefs were lodged beneath Ett's nose, folded and pressed tight, their pale fabric already darkened where blood had soaked through.
Nearly half an inch of damp red stained the cloth that vanished into her nostrils, the coppery scent sharp enough that she had long since stopped breathing through her nose at all.
"Next."
The word came out flat, neither sharp nor weak, carried by habit rather than will.
Ett drew air through her mouth as she finished the thirtieth rim of documents stacked upon her desk. The papers were stamped, signed, annotated, and returned to their proper piles with a speed that betrayed how familiar this burden had already become. She reached for another rim without pause. The mountain before her had barely diminished.
So much for rest.
She had only just arrived, only just allowed herself the brief luxury of stillness, and now the tide of duty had returned with doubled force. It was almost laughable.
Why did she have to inhabit a child's body, of all things?
In other stories, the fragile transmigrators lingered among romance and shallow intrigue, basking in admiration while plotting delicately from the shadows. Ett had been given none of that indulgence. She had allowed herself a brief delay, a mourning ritual for the life of relentless labor she knew awaited her, and now even that was over.
Back to work.
"I'm so sad," she muttered, voice low, barely audible over the rustle of parchment.
"Aiya," came Akan's voice, warm and unhelpfully amused. "What troubles Your Ladyship's heart?"
Shut it with your troubles in your heart.
"Hush."
Akan sighed and leaned back into his chair, watching her with an expression that balanced concern and something dangerously close to entertainment.
"You dare to gaze at me so openly?" Ett said without lifting her eyes from the page she was marking. "Leave."
She disliked being watched while she worked, particularly now, while seated in the seat of the Empress Dowager. Concentration was fragile enough without a pair of eyes tracking every movement.
Akan chuckled, a sound she had not often heard from him before.
There was a glint of mischief there, newly emboldened ever since Her Ladyship had made it clear she knew exactly what he was capable of. "It seems Your Ladyship has stirred a reckless courage within me."
***
Let us simply not speak, then.
Ett bent herself more firmly over her work. She was grateful, at least, that there was no clock within her study chamber. Had one existed, she would have been glancing at it incessantly, counting heartbeats rather than finishing her duties. And there was no alarm device to govern her time efficiently, no means to divide her hours cleanly.
Only paper. Ink. Breath. Blood.
Caw. Caw. Caw.
Her pen paused.
That sound again.
Ett lifted her gaze toward the wide window, squinting as sunlight struck her eyes with unwelcome force.
Gah.
She blinked rapidly.
What was that?
Zzzzt.
The world seemed to stutter for the briefest instant, a strange flicker at the edge of her vision. Ett frowned and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, careful not to smear blood across her face.
Am I overtired?
Is it time for another break?
She glanced down at the stacks awaiting her. No. Not yet. She had not finished signing the proposals, and the reports were nearly complete. She reached for her water and took a measured sip before returning to her work.
This should ease that child's burden.
She had been very clear when she instructed Akan to divert a significant portion of Guren's workload to her study. Boredom had been her stated excuse, along with a convenient refusal to stroll through the gardens. If anyone complained, so be it.
"Oh."
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she read.
Interesting.
Ett flicked a glance toward Akan. His own stack was nearly double hers, papers rising like a fortress around his chair. And yet he still found the time to stare at her.
Tsk.
I will simply give this to him later.
"I will review it, Your Ladyship," Akan said, extending his hand.
"…Here."
"Ah." His eyes scanned the document. "The Ostenian Duchy reports the uncovering of a new mine and wishes to present it as a gift to His Majesty."
Ett's lips pressed together. "I presume they are well aware of the insult concealed within their courtesy, though I admit the finding itself is impressive."
"They claim it is for the sake of the people."
For the sake of the people.
Just what are they plotting?
The discovery itself was no surprise to Ett. It aligned precisely with what she remembered from the novel. The gem uncovered by the Ostenian Duchy was the second rarest material of its age, surpassed only by the one that would later reshape warfare itself. In the original story, the Duchy had concealed this discovery entirely and never brought it to market.
They were following the same steps, yet Guren had rejected their offering outright, declaring they might proceed independently. That rejection, however, had never been born of generosity.
The mine lay near a neighboring territory. Land that belonged not to any noble house, but to the ancestral holdings of the Emperor himself. It had never been granted. Never relinquished. An empty plot only in name.
The cave's passage wound through Ostenian land, but any territory under the Emperor's dominion was guarded, watched by his people.
If the mining slipped past imperial notice, the profits would double. The risk would be worth it.
"What do you believe should be done, Your Ladyship?" Akan asked.
Ett lifted her eyes. "What do you think should be done?"
He blinked. "That is an uncharacteristically vague reply."
"Hm?"
He continued carefully. "The gem is undeniably rare. If the Ostenian Duchy claimed it in full, their wealth would swell even further. Yet such a treasure is suited for adornment, not for aiding the middle or lower classes, nor for easing the burdens of the poor."
"Continue."
"They ought to offer something of genuine substance. A contribution that would truly serve the people, rather than a display of luxury."
Ett studied him. "And have you considered the Emperor's view?"
Akan nodded. "His Majesty has little interest in wealth or in dividing such spoils. Even with a rarity of this nature, he would likely return it to them without hesitation."
Ett's lips twitched.
From the outside, such an act would appear generous. In truth, Guren simply loathed petty matters. Anything that required prolonged attention without immediate consequence irritated him.
Well. If his name could be used to claim land, so be it.
"Do so," she said.
Akan frowned. "Pardon?"
"They may retain the plot of land," Ett replied calmly, "provided they surrender in exchange those territories rich in Dolomite."
"Dolomite?" Akan echoed, confusion plain.
"Pig iron. Dolomite. Does it not sound familiar?"
"That…" He hesitated. It did not.
"Oh." Ett paused. "My mistake. Adanite."
Their terms differed.
"Your Ladyship, I do not understand."
Of course he did not. Adanite was known only for its use in refractory bricks. It held little value, sold poorly, and offered no immediate gain.
"You need not understand."
She raised one finger to her lips in a subtle hush. "Bring me the full map of Ostenian territory."
Still bewildered, Akan complied, retrieving the geographical records of the Duchy. Ett leaned forward, her mind tightening as she dragged every remembered detail to the surface.
"This," she said, marking several regions, "is where Adanite may be found."
Akan watched as she circled the lands, his confusion deepening.
"And where lies the gem?" she asked.
"Here, Your Ladyship."
"Good."
She was not after the gem at all. They could have it.
"This will suffice."
"Your Ladyship," Akan ventured, "what use do you have for Adanite?"
"Well."
Adanite mirrored Dolomite from her former world. Not the one named centuries later by scholars, but its essence. They did not yet know its full potential. Combined with limestone, it could shape more than bricks.
This Empire stood ahead of many, yet still lagged behind where it could be.
"This shall be our return."
Akan frowned. "Yet are not the gems more precious?"
"And do they not desire reputation?"
He considered. "While it is true we might acquire Adanite elsewhere, what benefit arises from this exchange?"
"It is for the sake of the people," Ett said simply. "Adanite."
It made no sense to him. Perhaps she intended roads. Perhaps something else.
She offered no explanation, only stared at him until he nodded.
"I will carry it out, Your Ladyship."
"To what extent?"
"As much as possible. Quietly. Seek out even those deposits not yet known."
"Understood." He hesitated. "Is this for constructing another road?"
She waved her hand dismissively. "Do it swiftly."
"Yes…"
Though the Empire possessed inventions beyond its age, it remained blind to many possibilities.
"Is that all, Your Ladyship?"
"Yes."
She returned to her papers with a groan. "Handkerchiefs."
"Are those the last?"
"Yes."
She measured the cloth at her nose. Two more inches would be needed.
"You must be careful," Akan said quietly. "Persist like this, and you may be confined to your bed for months."
She ignored him, pointing at the documents. "I will stop once you return."
He sighed and went to fetch more.
When he left, Ett removed the soaked cloths, wiped the blood carefully, and stretched. She turned to the window, gazing out at the sea of dark roses.
"Even Castlevania is brighter than this."
No wonder the palace bred such cold souls.
She wondered what Guren had felt when he first saw sunlight after the war. When he returned to this darkness. Did it make any difference?
"That child has endured much."
"What has he endured?" came Akan's voice behind her.