How the Villainous Consort Avoids His Death Ending

At that moment, even Chief Butler Wilhelm, who had been standing silently, tilted his head and muttered as if puzzled.

“It looks a bit closer to an ornament rather than a lamp, Your Highness. Would it not be that only high-ranking nobles seek this kind of item? However, to sell it targeting the nobles, it is a bit…”

He must mean to ask if it is too much of a low-end model. Even in this era, pretty pieces of trash certainly already existed, and their loyal customers were always the high-ranking nobles, after all.

But the desire to possess something pretty is not exclusive to nobles, is it? This was clearly a pretty piece of trash—no, a low-to-medium-priced glass mood light—that would be enthusiastically welcomed by the wealthy commoners of Belforte and low-ranking nobles, who were Sawyer’s primary customer base and frequently sought Hezekia’s special products.

“You have come up with a good idea. Thank you for bringing it to Hezekia first, Sawyer.”

When I abruptly offered praise and words of gratitude without any further explanation, the audience chamber grew quiet. Tristan also quietly looked toward me.

Smiling slightly, I nodded my head slowly.

“Can you discuss it with the artisans and try making a sample?”

Sawyer’s eyes instantly went wide. However, he soon snapped out of it, nodding his head fiercely and bowing repeatedly.

“Yes, of course, Your Highness! Thank you for believing in me. I will definitely repay you by making a good product!”

Then, with his head half-raised, he carefully scrutinized Tristan’s reaction. Tristan wore a completely lukewarm expression, but he waved his hand without showing any particular sign.

“…If the Grand Consort believes in it, there must be a good reason for it. I will instruct them to guide you to the glass workshop. Withdraw.”

“Thank you, Your Excellency the Grand Duke.”

Answering in a voice that was a layer more intimidated than when he answered me, Sawyer raised his body. And as he was taking a few steps back, he suddenly turned his head and casually tossed a remark to me.

“The little birds have finished their duties, returned to the nest, and are brooding their eggs, Your Highness.”

“…!”

At the sudden remark, the vassals all murmured for a moment as if bewildered. Only Tristan, as if he had noticed something, gripped the armrest of his chair tightly and glared at Sawyer.

What on earth is going on? Is what I understood correct?

Brooding eggs must mean that suspicion has sprouted in the Emperor’s mind. I thought it would be difficult to grasp that far, but it seems the little birds were more competent than I thought. It could also be that the Emperor took some sort of measure and they noticed it.

Yes, good. It was very good news. Everything is fine, but…

Why are you the one saying that?

At that moment, the raspy voice of the back alley information broker who had slyly introduced himself echoed in my ears.

Let us introduce ourselves first. Call this body Fen.

And the status window guide of Sawyer that the system had shown me.

[Verifying the status window of the wealthy merchant Sawyer, a supporting character in Chronicles of the Sword.]
Name: Sawyer, son of Fen / Sawyer Penson (31 years old)…

So, Sawyer was the son of the back alley boss? The successor of the underworld who manages the little birds was Sawyer?

No, then in the original work, even though his own father became Constantine’s most reliable supporting force, despite being the son in name, he sprayed so much crap over Hezekia?

In my memory, Sawyer sticks tightly to Everett’s side until the very end, thoroughly stripping Hezekia down to its roots, and even sets himself against Constantine, who is Tristan’s cherished nephew. He wasn’t even a lover or husband to Ruellin, but had simply had an unrequited love all by himself, yet he even cut his ties as father and son and devoted his body to revenge. What on earth is love…

Just as the words the system had told me, he was truly an incredible romantic.

While I merely blinked my eyes, looking at Sawyer blankly, Sawyer, who had been staring at me intently, suddenly smiled with a confident face as if he had become a different person.

“The little bird is ready to chirp upon Your Highness’s hand at any time.”

“…”

Are you saying you will hand over the little birds for me to use as I please? Is it fine to do that? Your father wouldn’t think so, though… This is why they say there is no use in raising a son…

“…Then, I shall withdraw. May you be in good health until I see you next time.”

In an instant, silence flowed over the spot where Sawyer had exited the audience chamber. I was completely out of my wits, losing myself to the point of even forgetting to give a greeting.