“I beg your pardon?”
“Let’s try to regulate marijuana within the club.
Let’s see what happens.”
Ashmia continued speaking calmly.
“Fleur is going to have an immediate schism on the inside.
Small groups that exclude the Princess will become more frequent, and the person who hides their crimes on behalf of the Princess will gain support and power.
In other words, Fleur will lose power and a new club will emerge.”
“But they won’t give up on their official position as a member of Fleur.
After all, when something goes wrong and they see themselves at a disadvantage, they’ll need a scapegoat to cover up their crimes.
That would be you, Francesca Pendragon.”
“If you’re confident, try it.
I don’t think I’m wrong.
Especially in social clubs like Fleur, where there is no sense of purpose, it happens frequently.
It’s ridiculously easy.”
‘How the hell am I supposed to teach this innocent princess who seems to have gotten herself into something dangerous?’
“So, what are you trying to say right now?! Don’t beat around the bush, just say it!”
“I told you.
Only take care of the members who come to your club even after you control the drugs.
They’re the true followers of the Princess.
Then, officially dissolve Fleur.
The sooner the better.”
Ashmia dropped the smile from her lips and said.
“In the next two weeks, or at the earliest, within a week, both the nobles and those who distribute marijuana in the system will be arrested.”
“I beg your pardon?!”
“I’m telling you to get your hands on it so they won’t sell it under the name of Pendragon.”
Ashmia listed some of the family names.
“All of them are families that engage in blackmail, threats, and extortion against individuals and commoner groups, as well as the distribution of marijuana.
As far as I know, it’s not just them.
No, eighty percent? There are very few families out there that will shake it off and not even dust will come out.”
Francesca’s expression hardened.
“If you wanted to play king, you should have known how to distinguish wolves from dogs.”
Speaking from the point of view of an imperial officer, of course, those who proudly declared that they were gangsters and did bad things were also a problem, but those who hide behind their titles and do insidious things are much more distasteful.
“…This is the first time I’ve been humiliated like this.
Are you saying that even though you know that just one word of mine could put your life in danger?”
“Come on, let’s see.
Who is more of a ‘gangster’ now? No matter how much you’ve seen and learnt, you don’t have to act like a princess.”
“How rude! Do you have any evidence to prove that what you’ve said is true?!”
Instead of calling Byren Bernando, the princess chose to listen to Ashmia’s story.
“Showing the results would be better.”
Halfway around the track, Francesca stopped her horse.
Ashmia, who had followed Francesca with her horse, was now making eye contact with the princess.
“Did you come to this riding centre with this in mind from the beginning? To approach me?”
“You could say that.”
Ashmia paused for a moment, and then spoke.
“I think the princess needs a ‘friend’.”
Francesca frowned and Ashmia smiled her way.
“Yes, a friend.”
“Are you telling me to hold hands with the mafia now?”
Ashmia shook her head.
I’m telling you to hold hands with ‘Ashmia Kalanishiel’, not with the Kalanishiel family.”
Meet the old instructor]
Francesca had heard rumours of the youngest daughter of the Kalanishiel family, who claimed to be a reclusive loner.
After hearing that she was almost assassinated, Ashmia suddenly appeared in front of her and said she wanted to be Francesca’s friend rather than ask for attention.
“You’re not the mafia boss.
What power do you have…?”
“I must ask you the same thing.”
‘You’re not part of the duke’s family either, are you?’
“A fair offer and deal.
I’m talking to an individual named ‘Francesca Pendragon’, not ‘Duke Pendragon’ to join hands.”
The moment Francesca heard Ashmia, she felt strangely excited.
Up until now, she had lived a life of material poverty, but in exchange, Francesca lost her name.
Or ‘Lady Pendragon’.
If not, ‘Theodore Pendragon’s daughter’.
Francesca’s identity was nothing more, nothing less.
As Ashmia said, the members of Fleur were mostly gathered under the name of Pendragon, not Francesca, and she knew it.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t let go of Fleur because of her loneliness.
Ashmia’s words, which described her as ‘playing king’, were so accurate.
Even so, she wanted to forget that loneliness among those who looked after her.
Ashmia said she treated her as ‘Francesca’.
Her demeanor was so profane that she had never experienced it before, but on the contrary, it made Francesca feel strangely attracted to Ashmia’s character.
“…I like it.”
Francesca looked straight at Ashmia as she spoke.
“You said two weeks, right?”
“If you’re right, then I’ll think about your arrogant offer afterwards.”
“But if it was nonsense, the cost would be great.”
“You made a good choice.
If the princess gets involved in something bad, I’ll be heartbroken.”
Francesca’s face turned red at Ashmia’s words.
“Let’s stop talking about this!”
Ashmia smiled knowingly and nodded.
After returning to the starting point, the two got off their horses and walked side by side into the building with the help of their own bodyguards.
“It was an honour to meet you.”
See you next time.”
When they got back, everyone looked at them like they were going crazy and wondered if the two of them had changed or if they were different people.
What kind of conversation did the two of them have?
Ashmia and Francesca turned to each other, understanding their own gazes and expressions.
As she walked out into the lobby, Ivern Randolph, who stood with a procession of employees, smiled broadly and bowed ninety degrees in front of Ashmia.
“Once again, I would like to say that it was an honour to have you, Ashmia Kalanishiel.”
“Get home safely!”
In line with Ivern’s words, the staff bowed and greeted her all at once.
‘Ha, he’s really clever.’
The subject of the conversation between Ashmia and Francesca may not be known, but he must’ve read the signs of a change in power balance with an animalistic sense.
‘No matter what era, that kind of guy lives for a long time.’
Ashmia waved lightly.
“Please take good care of Bucephalus* while I’m not here.”
t/n: this is an actual horse’s name.
pls google it if you wanna know more about it.
“Would you look at that? You have come up with a good name.”
Ivern replied with a soft smile after quickly realising that it was the name given to the white horse.
It was very childish, so he didn’t forget about it.
Ashmia finally returned to her car and sighed.
She asked Vanessa, who sat in the driver’s seat, with a curious expression.
“Thank you for your hard work.
Did it go well?”
There were some improvisations, but that’s fine.
It’s all thanks to you, Vanessa.”
“What are you talking about? All I did was make him listen to me.”
“That was a big deal.
Let me know if you would like to receive a reward.
I’ll listen to anything.”
“No! It’s fine!”
“You better tell me before I change my mind.”
“…Can I think about it for a little bit?”
At Vanessa’s words, Ashmia grinned.
“Then, can we go home now?”
“Alright, let’s rest for today.
I’m tired from running.”
Ashmia talked a lot.
Still, compared to two weeks ago, it was a major improvement.
Ashmia said as she smelled the horse faeces carried by the wind through the open car window.
“Well, I have a place I want to visit tomorrow.”
“Where is that?”
Ashmia looked at Vanessa with playful eyes and answered.
“The National Police Department.”
The following day.
Dressed in a suit that resembled Vanessa instead of her usual dress, Ashmia got out of her car wearing a fedora hat over her braided hair along with a pair of sunglasses.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
Ashmia smiled at Vanessa, who looked worried.
They can’t arrest me just because my last name is Kalanishiel.”
However, Vanessa’s past record was glamorous, so it was a little risky for her to enter the police department.
Ashmia blew her a wink over her sunglasses before climbing up some wide stairs leading to the entrance of the Police Department.
As she passed by the main gate, she exhaled.
The scent and the noisy atmosphere of the first floor lobby made her feel nostalgic.
“What brings you here?”
As soon as she was about to answer the police officer’s question at the information desk on the first floor, Ashmia spotted a busy Nikita Borev carrying some documents and heading somewhere.
“Excuse me, lady? What’s wrong?”
At that moment, it felt as if the accident never happened, but Ashmia came to her senses at the officer’s call and shook off her thoughts.
“I’m here to meet Detective Clint Westfield.”
She said the name of the man who was Michael’s instructor.
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