AMOTGD

CHAPTER XXXV

The prospect of the empire being overthrown or the civil war dragging into a long-term conflict—was that something this girl had predicted? Could she be that diligent in lining her pockets in preparation for such a scenario?

There is a significant difference between anticipating a crisis and preparing for it. In the military, some feel the crisis and take action, while others, despite feeling the crisis, dismiss it as a mere possibility and do nothing. The former survives, the latter perishes. And the distinguishing factor between the two is purely intuition and talent.

If Ernst’s instincts were correct, Julie belonged to the former category—the survivors. He even considered grooming her to be a quick-witted aide who could keep an eye on things for him.

With that in mind, he had smiled and greeted her warmly, an effort rarely extended to others.

“…….”

What a surprise. The moment their eyes met, she looked at him as if she had seen a ghost.

To be honest, it was a shock. He had always thought of himself as possessing a charm that could allure people rather than repel them.

Yet there she was, quickly stepping back in fright, merely nodding her head before scurrying away. Initially, he suspected her.

‘Does she have something to hide?’

Maybe she was more cunning than the butler thought. If she had been embezzling, it could explain her fear. But the girl was inherently timid. She seemed to use the fallen petals as a small means of earning pocket money—a trivial activity not worth the butler’s attention. Her other work was similar, not aiming for a big score but steadily gathering bits like an industrious squirrel collecting acorns.

‘How cute.’

Oblivious to his observations, she diligently tried to avoid him, gathering tiny bits for herself in a way that was both amusing and endearing. Just watching her brought him a great deal of amusement. It made him wonder if this was why people kept pets.

One day, while sitting in a sunlit spot in the drawing room, he was lost in watching Julie collect petals in the garden when suddenly—

Bang!

Uninvited, Luina stormed in, demanding tea with a sharp tone. She even cast a glance towards where his gaze had been fixed and twisted her words in a sneering manner.

“You crazy bastard. You think you’re so great, don’t you? What a sight.”

“Get lost.”

“Don’t be like that. Come on, let’s have a proper fight. Every time I pick up a sword in that damn house, they freak out.”

He frowned at Luina’s sudden intrusion and her inappropriate remarks.

“They’re worried you might get drafted to the front lines.”

Everyone acknowledged Luina’s skill, but times had changed. It was now the era of firearms, where even the fastest sword couldn’t beat the pull of a trigger.

The more people talked about her talents, the more dangerous it became. That’s why Marquis Elva had volunteered for the front lines, prepared to die to protect his daughter.

When a soldier goes to war, the outcomes are clear—live or die. For a woman in the military, the outcomes were even bleaker—die quickly if lucky or suffer horribly before death.

Luina knew this too well. She resented being born a woman who could only secure a husband through an arranged marriage. The frustration of not being able to marry her cousin likely drove her to seek Ernst’s company repeatedly.

With a mix of pity and firmness, he told her to leave.

“Get lost, and don’t be a nuisance.”

“Does that girl know you’re like this?”

“Please kindly fxxx off, Lady Luina.”

Damn, does she think using formal speech makes it respectful?

The world had changed too much. The era of refined and elegant nobility had passed. In an age where classism mixed with wealth, and salons once exclusive to nobles were now frequented by wealthy merchants, Luina’s crude language was inevitable.

Or rather, it had already become so. Everyone should have known the moment she preferred a sword over a teacup.

Sighing, he watched her gesture crudely with her middle finger up in the air. He had more pressing matters than this petty argument with her. Lost in thought, he was startled by her abrupt suggestion.

“Hey, why don’t you just confess?”

‘……What?’

Wait, who should confess to whom?

Seeing his bewildered expression, Luina tapped on the window and pointed at Julie, who was engrossed in the garden’s roses.

“If you’re going to follow her with your eyes all day, just confess already.”

And get rejected, moron.

If she hadn’t added that last part, their conversation might have ended on a warmer note. Even amidst his irritation, he was incredulous at how certain she was that he would be rejected, and he couldn’t help but argue.

“Why would I get rejected?”

“Because only you like her.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then why are you staring?”

Because! Because, well…

“It’s a sniper’s… instinct?”

What kind of bullshxx is that?