How the Villainous Consort Avoids His Death Ending

Tristan’s sharp reprimand drained the color from the navigator’s face. However, pressing him further would change nothing.

I shook my head and grabbed Tristan’s sleeve.

“Your Highness, we should stop standing here and go down. We need to check the situation first.”

“…Very well.”

Tristan responded and moved forward.

We soon reached the lower deck.

The damp, stagnant air carried a musty, moldy odor. The stench was thick, and there was even a hint of rot. The floor was covered with water mixed with oil.

“Are those the old materials that have been piled here?”

I asked, standing in front of the central pile of materials. The navigator bowed and quietly confirmed.

We silently examined the dim space.

Some of the materials had already collapsed in shape, and signs of rot were visible in many places. They had decayed from prolonged contact with standing water. It looked as if they had been left for an extended period.

At this rate, bacteria or toxins that had proliferated inside would have risen upward. I looked past the materials toward the ceiling. It connected to the upper cabins.

“Your Highness, look over there.”

Tristan lifted his head and followed my gaze.

Mold stains had spread darkly across the ceiling, and the wood grain was swollen with moisture. Some areas seemed soft all the way through. Even a gentle press with a fingertip looked as if it would sink in.

Tristan observed the scene silently, but his clenched fists trembled slightly.

Water seeping from the rotting materials dripped slowly to the floor. A small pool of contaminated water rippled lightly at our feet.

Cleaning it and replacing the old materials would not resolve the problem.

I suddenly recalled the damaged hull of the ship. Not just the lower deck, but the interior of the ship had already begun to rot.

“This ship can no longer be used.”

Tristan finally spoke about the heavy decision. I could not bring myself to look at his face.

His low voice echoed quietly in the dark space.

❖ ❖ ❖

Once the cause was identified, the cleanup proceeded quickly. The sailors recovered significantly simply by eating clean food and drinking fresh water. As expected, it was not an infectious disease but food poisoning caused by poor sanitation.

“This ship has been in operation for so long… At this state, it cannot be helped.”

“Yes, Your Highness. It seems we will need to build a new ship.”

Once the fact was confirmed, even the knights and retainers raised no objections regarding replacing the ship. Yet for a while, Tristan’s gaze grew even darker.

I suddenly remembered Tristan saying that the residents of the territory would not have to starve this year. It felt like a small prick deep in my chest.

A short time later, in his office, Tristan gathered the knights and retainers to announce the next steps.

“Starting next week, relief distribution will begin. Ensure it is more generous than in previous years. Take special care so that no one goes hungry. I will allocate a sufficient budget for this.”

What?

I swallowed hard, bewildered, and lifted my head sharply.

I had naturally assumed the declaration would be about the shipbuilding plan. Relief distribution instead? And on a scale much larger than usual?

“Your Highness, that is…”

I instinctively stepped forward toward Tristan to speak. But when our eyes met, I froze completely.

Tristan’s calm gaze did not waver. His eyes were firm and resolute, as always.

I slowly closed my mouth.

It differed from my opinion, but it must have been a decision Tristan made after careful consideration. Even if I did not fully understand, I wanted to trust him.

Thinking of the mindset behind this decision, however, made my heart ache.

“Wilhelm. You will handle this matter.”

“Me, Your Highness? But you…”

“Your Grand Consort and I will depart as soon as possible.”

Tristan entrusted the relief distribution to Butler Wilhelm.

The following day, the fleet set sail for Belforte Port ahead of schedule.

It was early morning, and darkness had not yet fully receded. Departing at such an hour required Gehardt to quietly carry the deeply sleeping Constantine onto the ship.