The Crown Prince Who Raises a Side Character-Chapter 39: Servant Cedric (5). Market Value

Head butler Bestian was deep in thought.

The source of his concern? None other than Cedric.

Is it really alright to leave things as they are?

It wasn’t that Cedric was lacking in any aspect of his work.

No—in fact, he was too competent.

Laundry, gardening, cooking, cleaning, and every other menial task that required physical labor—Cedric performed them all to near-perfection.

But in just one category—reverence for his master—Cedric fell short.

In fact, to be precise, he was practically failing.

What kind of servant uses the employment contract as leverage to talk back to his master, or even tease them?

If word got out to the Birkan nobility about the dynamic between Claudia and Cedric, Claudia would instantly become the laughingstock of high society.

And yet, Bestian couldn’t bring himself to dismiss Cedric outright.

“Cedric! Where are you!? Get out here this instant!”

As usual, Claudia’s shrill voice rang through the estate.

But none of the servants seemed alarmed or anxious. They simply continued their work in peace.

Just a few weeks ago, that same voice would’ve sent many into fits of panic—or even seizures. The change was downright shocking.

The reason was simple.

For the average servant, Claudia’s attention was a curse in and of itself.

Being noticed by her rarely, if ever, ended in anything good—about as likely as getting struck by lightning on a sunny day.

But recently, all of Claudia’s wrath and attention had been squarely fixated on Cedric.

And that had brought peace and safety to everyone else.

Some had even started praying to the goddess that this blissful new age would never end.

Even Bestian—who’d always struggled with the revolving door of staff caused by Claudia’s outbursts—couldn’t deny he was quietly enjoying the change.

Well, if you think about it, she signed Cedric’s three-month employment contract herself. As the head butler, I can’t exactly override that. Quite right.

He absolutely, definitely hadn’t traded Claudia’s misery for the staff’s well-being. Of course not.

With his rationalization complete, Bestian took a moment to savor the rare pleasure of grooming his mustache in peace.

Thanks to Cedric, the staff of House Redvell were enjoying a tranquil era of unprecedented harmony.

***

Claudia was beginning to wonder—

Have I messed with someone I shouldn’t have?

Fifteen days. One hundred and thirty-eight attempts.

Those were the cold, hard numbers documenting Claudia’s humiliating losing streak against Cedric in her war of petty harassment.

She had tried nearly every kind of power play and prank she could think of within the estate—and failed every time.

At this point, Cedric was even beginning to enjoy her challenges. No, scratch that—he definitely enjoyed them. He’d even shown open disappointment when she repeated a trick she’d already used.

No matter how malicious or petty she got, he would just breeze through it like a gentle spring wind, and Claudia’s pride had long since been shredded to bits.

“Omelet rice and hamburger steak set, served as requested, my lady.”

As always, Cedric presented the meal with flawless, elegant movements.

Claudia shot him a look of mild contempt before turning her attention to the food in front of her.

After all, the person who cooked it might deserve hell—but the food itself had done nothing wrong.

Juicy minced meat, fluffy egg, perfectly cooked rice.

A bold, tangy-sweet sauce draped over the top.

She normally got bored of food easily and regularly demanded new dishes from the chef, but Cedric’s cooking... was different. She couldn’t seem to get tired of it. The sweet and sour balance was perfect.

After finishing her meal at the garden’s outdoor table, she sipped on black tea adjusted to her taste—emphasizing sweetness over aroma, and served at the perfect temperature.

It was then that Claudia noticed Cedric watching her with a peculiar expression.

“What? You suddenly fall in love with my looks or something?”

“Hahaha! Well, your appearance is indeed quite striking, my lady!”

Ghk! Cough! Cough!

Caught off guard, Claudia began coughing violently.

Wiping her mouth with the handkerchief Cedric offered, she glared at him—not with joy, but suspicion and wariness.

“What—what are you plotting now?”

“If I may, my lady, you’ve always been the one setting the traps. I don’t recall ever laying any myself.”

“Don’t call it ‘traps’ when your master does it!”

“I’ll let that one slide.”

“Don’t let it slide!!”

This guy's not even pretending to respect me anymore!

Claudia gave him a nasty side-eye, then sighed when she saw his utterly shameless face.

“...So what is it. You do have something to say, don’t you?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“It’s not anything grand, but—I was simply wondering what your goals are, my lady!”

“My goals?”

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“Something you want to do. Something you want to achieve. The kind of person you want to become—those kinds of goals.”

Claudia smirked bitterly.

“My current goal is to slap that smug face of yours to my heart’s content.”

A biting line—but Cedric’s response was totally unexpected.

“Then shouldn’t you be working toward that goal, my lady?”

Ignoring her stunned expression, Cedric continued matter-of-factly.

“Most straightforward would be physical training. At your current stamina, you’re out of breath after sprinting for just ten minutes—you’ll never catch me like that!”

“There’s also magic. Spells like ‘Grow Vines’ or ‘Drop Cage’ can be highly effective in restraining someone!”

“Or you could train your blood beasts. A good hunting dog spares the hunter a lot of effort, after all!”

Claudia fell silent.

It had been a fair amount of time since Cedric first joined the estate.

By now, he clearly understood how her daily schedule flowed.

To outsiders, the life of a noble lady might seem like floating ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) on clouds—but the reality was far from idle.

They were expected to learn languages, literature, religion, as well as art, music, and dance.

They attended social events and even participated in political maneuvering. As mistresses of large estates, they were supposed to manage internal affairs as well.

But Claudia didn’t do any of that.

No tutors came to teach her. She didn’t engage in religious practices. She had no contact with other noble girls.

Outside of eating and sleeping, she spent her days wandering the estate, tormenting the staff, or playing with her blood beasts in the garden.

Even for a beloved daughter of House Redvell, this was strange. No—especially because she was beloved, it made no sense.

Cedric must’ve known all that. That’s why he was asking.

Why do you waste your time doing nothing at all?

As these thoughts swirled, Claudia’s face twisted in irritation.

She snapped at him.

“What do you know? You’re just a servant—what makes you think you could possibly solve my problems?”

Cedric’s ever-present smile faded.

He looked at her earnestly.

“...You may be right, my lady. Maybe I can’t solve them.”

“......”

“But still, I can do my best to help you find an answer. At the very least, I can sit with you and share the burden. Even if I’m only employed temporarily, I’m still your servant—and you are my lady.”

“......”

“So please, tell me. What is it that’s been troubling you so much, my lady?”

Claudia’s lips trembled slightly.

By noble standards, Cedric’s words weren’t even worth listening to.

How could anyone speak honestly with an outsider who could leave at any time? What if he spread her secrets the moment he stepped outside?

But Claudia had already thrown away any concern for her public image, so his words struck her with more weight than they should have.

He was competent yet strange, overbearing yet sensitive.

She had never met a man like him before. And perhaps—just perhaps—he might actually hold some kind of answer.

In the end, she parted her lips, as if saying to hell with it all.

***

The Marquess of Redvell had two wives.

His first wife was Julieta Plain.

She was the daughter of the Baron of Plain, whom the Marquess had married before restoring House Redvell to its former glory.

But once the family regained its power, Julieta died in an “unfortunate accident,” and the Marquess remarried almost immediately.

His second wife—and Claudia’s mother—was Roberia of Birka.

As the surname made clear, she was a princess of the royal family of Birka. The Marquess treasured her dearly.

But it wasn’t love. Not really.

To him, a marriage alliance with the royal family was both proof of Redvell’s revival and the key to his greater ambitions.

If a son were born between him and Roberia, that child would inherit royal blood—and with it, a legal claim to the throne of Birka.

The succession rights were faint, yes. But given the instability of Birka’s royal court and the Marquess’s political prowess, the possibility of claiming the kingdom for himself was not entirely out of reach.

But Roberia was physically frail. Bearing a child posed a tremendous risk.

The Marquess spent vast sums of his personal fortune to improve her health, and in time, they managed to conceive their first child.

The problem was—

That first child was a daughter.

By the laws of Birka, a royal-born woman could give birth to an heir, but she herself could not inherit the throne.

The Marquess was disappointed, though he didn’t act on that disappointment openly.

He believed they could simply try for a second child. And in front of Roberia, he played the part of a devoted husband. He even doted on his daughter, acting like a loving father.

Unaware that she had never been wanted, the little girl grew up embraced by her parents’ affection.

But that happiness didn’t last long.

The strain of trying for a second child proved too much. Her mother died in childbirth, taking the unborn sibling with her.

Grieving, the girl clung to the one parent she had left—but he turned away from her.

No matter how desperately she sought his affection, no matter how hard she tried to earn his praise, her father treated her like she didn’t exist.

“...Well. Not like I was completely invisible,” Claudia said flatly. “There was one time. Just once. When my father showed he cared.”

“It was when I tripped and cut my face. Out of nowhere, he helped me up and, with this really solemn expression, said, ‘You should be more careful not to hurt yourself.’”

“I thought—‘Ah. So he does care about me after all. He’s just been acting strange because he’s grieving. But deep down, he still loves me.’”

“So I decided to be a good girl. No whining. No tantrums. I studied hard. I tried so hard to be the daughter he could be proud of.”

“Wanna know what he told me later?”

A bitter smirk twisted Claudia’s lips.

Contempt and self-loathing sharpened her voice into something cold and cutting as she continued:

“You're doing well. You clearly understand how to increase your market value. That makes things easier for me.”

“Many nobles have expressed interest in marrying you. Do your best to reel one in. Ideally, someone old and ready to die—or some fool you can control from behind the curtains.”

That was it.

Her father hadn’t cared about her injury. He’d been worried about the damage it would do to the value of his “product.”

The moment Claudia understood that, everything she had worked so hard for felt utterly meaningless.

“There. I told you what’s been on my mind, just like you wanted.”

“So go on—tell me. Should I still be ‘diligent’? Should I keep raising my value as a product so my father can auction me off to the highest bidder?”