How to Replace Your Dad - Chapter 233

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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How to Replace Your Father
Chapter 233
“Get out of here before I alert the guards.”
I said it flatly and went back to digging up mugwort.
‘Gillosey Royal Palace has everything you could ask for.’
The mugwort was plentiful, and if you looked carefully, there were plenty of edible plants to be found.
For a royal palace, the place was remarkably poorly maintained.
It was far worse than the palace on the Other Continent where I’d stayed for four years avoiding the Restoration Council.
It wasn’t even comparable to the Imperial Palace.
If the Imperial Palace were managed like this, the palace superintendent would have been dragged away in tears.
“It’s a blessing that Gillosey Royal Palace’s discipline has grown so lax. I nearly starved.”
As I muttered this while digging up mugwort, I felt an intense gaze on my back.
And then.
“Pffft—!”
A burst of uncontrollable laughter rang out.
I glanced back over my shoulder.
The man who’d had his chin resting on my shoulder earlier was still there, doubled over and wheezing with laughter.
“…?”
Was he insane?
While I was thinking that, the man wiped away the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes and spoke.
“That weed doesn’t look like it would fill your stomach much.”
“….”
“Don’t be on guard. I won’t lay a hand on you. I’m just curious.”
“…This is more like a seasoning. It’s not the main ingredient.”
“Then what is?”
“I’ll mix it with flour. Even flour that’s gone bad and smells foul becomes palatable once you add mugwort to it.”
“Ah. So it’s a seasoning.”
The man nodded.
With his arms crossed, he smiled broadly.
“Where did you get the flour? The candidates shouldn’t be able to bring food supplies in. And there’s nothing in the candidate dormitory that could serve as provisions, is there?”
“The dormitory has nothing, but this palace does.”
“You took it from somewhere other than the candidate dormitory? Did you bribe the palace servants?”
The questions kept coming relentlessly.
I looked at him with tired eyes.
‘He’s very curious.’
When I made an exasperated expression, he laughed outright.
Then he removed a button from his clothes and held it out to me.
“This should be adequate as a bribe. At least you wouldn’t have to go around digging up weeds anymore. Well, if you don’t want to take it—.”
I snatched the button quick as lightning.
Like a hawk snatching prey from the air.
The man’s eyes widened.
And then he immediately began wheezing with laughter again.
Regardless, I held the button close and spoke.
“It may be a bribe, but it wasn’t money.”
The candidates could only bring clothing into the palace.
Other items were confiscated at the checkpoint.
Money included.
“Then what?”
The man asked.
I tucked the button carefully into my pocket and answered.
“I earned it through labor.”
“…What?”
The smile vanished from his face.
My answer had apparently been quite unexpected.
“A candidate worked?”
“Yes. Sewing, copying, and such. The palace has more than enough work to go around.”
“Huh….”
“Does that answer your question? Is there anything else you want to ask? Ask whatever you like.”
Of course, payment would be necessary.
I extended my hand with a broad smile, and the man chuckled.
“That answers it sufficiently. I have nothing more to ask.”
“What a shame….”
The button the man gave me was quite fine quality.
He seemed like a young dandy from some noble house, and I was disappointed I couldn’t squeeze more money out of him.
At that expression, the man burst into laughter again.
But he didn’t ask any further questions and turned his back.
“See you again.”
—he said.
‘As if that would happen.’
I thought that to myself and shrugged my shoulders.
* * *
The red-haired man called a young man by Yustea departed from the Rear Garden.
The moment he stepped onto the path leading to the Grand Palace, he encountered the Court Minister and several nobles.
The nobles bowed respectfully to him.
“Your Majesty.”
The red-haired man—no, Charlot, the young king of Gillosey, smiled.
“It seems something entertaining is happening in the candidate dormitory.”
“Pardon?”
“They’re trading food supplies with the palace servants.”
“…Your Majesty?!”
The eyes of the Court Minister, who oversaw the Concubine Selection Tournament, widened.
‘What on earth is he talking about!’
The Second Round was meant to test wisdom and perseverance in navigating circumstances.
It wasn’t the judges’ role to determine who was eliminated.
Rather, those who couldn’t endure would withdraw from the palace of their own accord.
Once enough candidates had been filtered out, the Third Round would begin.
The nobles stared at the Court Minister in bewilderment.
“If food supplies are being traded, wouldn’t that prevent any eliminations?”
“The Second Round would lose its meaning entirely.”
“Who on earth would dare trade food supplies with the palace servants!”
“You weren’t aware that such trading was occurring?”
Questions poured down on the Court Minister.
The Court Minister broke out in a cold sweat, his lips trembling.
“I’ll… I’ll investigate immediately….”
Charlot chuckled.
“It’s understandable that you didn’t notice—it was just some discarded flour being diverted.”
“Discarded flour, you say…?”
In that case, he truly wouldn’t have known.
Charlot chuckled.
“Clever. She aimed precisely for what couldn’t be tracked.”
“Who on earth did such a thing?”
“Yustea of Ilfarm.”
“…!”
That name again.
The Court Minister and the nobles flinched.
“Hmm… that name comes up frequently.”
“Indeed, ever since the First Round.”
She was mentioned more often than the leading candidates.
In particular, the fact that she had impressed her name upon the king’s mind was truly extraordinary.
The king didn’t even remember the name of Michia, his own nation’s leading candidate.
Nor did Isis from the House of Sanponce, brought directly by the Imperial Prince of the Empire.
‘What on earth is in that woman’s head.’
‘Her abilities are truly remarkable.’
A sense of unease crept over the faces of the nobles backing other candidates.
“The Court Minister must quickly bring the candidates under control.”
“Yes, as quickly as possible—.”
It was while the Court Minister was answering, looking flustered.
The king of Gillosey, Charlot, spoke.
“Leave her be.”
“Your Majesty….”
“I want to see how much more cleverly she’ll act.”
“….”
The Court Minister and nobles were left speechless.
It was rare for the king to take such interest in something.
* * *
The candidate dormitory.
Candidates gathered at the back gate, handing over brooches, dresses, and the like to a palace servant.
“Where are the promised items?”
“I’ve brought them.”
The servant held out a basket.
It contained quite an opulent meal.
The candidates, who had been starving for four days, forgot all propriety and reached for the basket.
They tore into bread greedily and wetted their throats with milk before finally exhaling deeply.
“I thought we’d starve to death.”
When the candidates learned that Yustea had arranged food supplies through “trades” with palace servants, they began following her lead.
Michia and Isis did the same.
The back gate became an open trading ground.
Michia’s group of candidates frowned the moment they saw the basket the servant offered.
“How much was this dress worth, and you’re telling me this is all I get?”
Michia herself glared at the servant with fierce eyes.
“This… this is the limit.”
“Yustea of Ilfarm hoarded food supplies by herself. You’re not suggesting this is all you can manage for three dresses without looking down on us!”
“That’s because those are discarded items. Old flour, broken frying pans, tea leaves that have crumbled to powder—things like that are simply thrown away, so they’re easy to obtain.”
The servant continued, breaking into a cold sweat.
“But the items the other candidates want are recorded in the palace inventory….”
The candidates weren’t satisfied with mere rations given to palace servants.
They needed to bribe cooks in the Imperial Household or Grand Palace to prepare food from officially recorded supplies.
Doing even this much required risking one’s life.
Michia’s group accepted the basket with a click of their tongues, visibly displeased.
Isis from the House of Sanponce was also conducting her own trades.
“This is all the warm water?”
“Yes.”
“And the soap?”
“Yes, we have it.”
Isis sighed after checking the contents of the basket.
The so-called soap was barely the size of one’s fingertip.
It would be gone after a day of use.
But even this was a blessing.
Compared to when she couldn’t wash at all.
The candidates finished their trades and returned to the dormitory.
“The more I think about it, the more it irritates me.”
“What?”
“Yustea of Ilfarm. She was the only one who traded with the palace servants.”
When one candidate twisted her lips, a snort erupted from those nearby.
“But all she has is discarded food supplies and useless frying pans and pots.”
“That’s right. She can fill her stomach, but Yustea of Ilfarm is forgetting something important.”
The candidate who said this wore an arrogant expression.
“That this is a Concubine Selection Tournament.”
Filling one’s stomach isn’t everything.
The Concubine Selection Tournament.
In other words, a place to select the Royal Consort.
When the Third Round begins, they’ll face the king and nobles.
“Then the difference will become clear.”
“Her skin will be ruined from living without cosmetics or soap. A body fed on meager meals will be all swollen.”
“Imagine her appearing without even the minimum dignity a Royal Consort should possess.”
“And even if she realizes the situation by then and tries to obtain soap or cosmetics, it will be too late.”
“We brought dresses and jewelry—things that Yustea of Ilfarm doesn’t have.”
The palace servants’ eyes had already been raised to great heights by the candidates’ offerings.
No one would barter soap or cosmetics for shabby clothing.
Michia’s lips twisted.
Isis’s complexion was equally cold.
Then it happened.
“Wow, I feel alive again.”
A contented voice came from the direction of the restaurant.
It was the voice of Grean, who was with Yustea of Ilfarm.
Grean was a nun from Benesa.
The candidates’ steps faltered.
A delicious aroma wafted from the restaurant.
It was enough to enchant candidates who had made do with cold bread or milk.
They headed toward the restaurant.
And what they saw was….
“Eat slowly. There’s plenty.”
“It tastes better than something made by Ilfarm’s head chef.”
“I’m glad, but… you’ll get indigestion if you eat like that.”
Grean was eating as if she might lick the plate clean.
Yustea sat across from her, spooning food from a pot for Grean.
The hard bread that Yustea had traded for that morning had been transformed into a luxurious bread soup.
The candidates swallowed hard.
“…How is she….”
“Don’t look. Didn’t we just say we should forget what we just talked about? More important than that kind of food supply is soap and cosmetics—!”
As they were spouting such talk, Yustea stood up with an empty pot.
The instant Yustea brushed past them, Isis and Michia flinched.
‘A pleasant smell….’
‘What is this!’
It was completely different from what they had expected—that she would be dirty.
She was cleaner than any of the other candidates, and she smelled good.
She hadn’t simply doused herself in harsh perfume.
“…Did you wash?”
Isis asked.
Yustea, who had been moving the pot, paused.
“…? Yes.”
As if asking something obvious.
“Not just with water, then?”
“I go out gathering plants every day—washing with water alone is impossible.”
“How did you get soap?”
Isis, who was usually quiet, suddenly cried out.
She had given up an entire luxurious dress just to get a fingertip’s worth of soap.
‘But how did that woman…!’
“Making soap is easy.”
With just waste cooking oil and caustic soda, you could make several large bars of soap.
The basil gathered while wandering the castle could provide a lovely scent.
The remaining basil could even be made into perfume.
Yustea wore a blissful expression.
“It’s such a blessing that this castle is poorly maintained….”
If the Third Round was to happen, one had to maintain at least the minimum dignity befitting a Royal Consort.
Yustea hummed contentedly as she headed toward the Kitchen.
The candidates stood frozen, their mouths hanging open.
Michia’s face turned red as if it might burst.
Isis’s complexion turned a deathly shade of white.
Michia screamed.
“What kind of crazy adaptability is that—!”
Where on earth did this insane adaptability come from!
* * *
[What kind of crazy adaptability is that—!]
Pffft!
The young king of Gillosey burst into laughter.
His expression suggested his stomach hurt from laughing.
The nobles who were observing the situation through the magical device installed in the candidate dormitory also let out helpless laughs.
“Honestly….”
Some clicked their tongues in amazement.
“She’s completely controlling the tournament.”
“Remarkable.”
“How can such a person exist….”
While some nobles expressed bewilderment, a few were eagerly anticipating what bold move Yustea would pull next.
Iparam’s Envoy’s eyes shone brightly.
“Isn’t she deliberately positioning herself to be opposed by the candidates?”
“Pardon?”
“There was no need for her to eat in the restaurant or let the other candidates smell the soap. If they band together and start opposing her, it will be troublesome.”
“Then why is she….”
The Court Minister sighed.
“She’s trying to… sell the soap.”
“What?!”
“She’s using herself as a living advertisement. It appears she’s preparing for the Third Round.”
“What, what did you say!”
The assembly hall erupted into chaos.
Charlot pounded the table as he laughed.
“I’m losing my mind.”
Charlot’s eyes sparkled.
“I’ll see it myself in the Third Round. I’ll summon her to the Grand Palace.”
He was already looking forward to what else she would do when facing him directly.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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