A Mastermind? No, I'm just the Live-In Son-in-Law-Chapter 27: Secret Banquet

“...Did Sasha mess up again?”

Thinking it was just Sasha making another mistake, she quickened her pace toward the sound, imagining the poor girl on the verge of tears.

“...!?”

But when she reached the corridor junction and saw the scene, she hurriedly took a step back, hiding herself and peeking around the corner.

“Haha. Saintess—no, Miss Tia. I’m not here to scold you or anything.”

“A-Ah...”

“Dishes? Sasha breaks one every few days. We’ll just fetch another from the storage room.”

There, crouching in front of a new maid who had collapsed to the floor, was Whitney, talking in a gentle tone.

“It’s just that... I was having an important conversation with someone inside.”

“...”

This chapter is updated by freēwēbnovel.com.

“A conversation that would be problematic if it were overheard.”

At first, Cecil had hidden purely out of instinct—but as time passed, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“I won’t reprimand you. Just tell me.”

“A...”

“How much did you hear?”

Whitney’s words toward the maid were clearly dubious.

“I-I was just taking Lady Parsha’s teacup to the kitchen and... I heard His Highness’s voice.”

“Hmm.”

“His voice is quite... unique, you see...”

And it wasn’t just Whitney—Cecil found the maid’s behavior, casually mentioning the Crown Prince, just as suspicious.

‘What kind of maid recognizes the prince’s voice...?’

Tilting her head briefly, she held her breath again and focused on the voices echoing down the corridor.

“I-I couldn’t help but be surprised!”

‘Well, maybe she could know... Like if she worked at the academy before coming here...’

“I heard the voice of someone I thought I’d never hear again, just in passing...”

Gasp.

The ominous words, spoken in a trembling voice, made Cecil exhale sharply without meaning to.

“...Is that really all?”

Fortunately, Whitney hadn’t noticed the sound. Tilting his head slightly, he questioned the maid in a low tone.

“I-I swear to the gods.”

“Then that’s a relief.”

Smiling brightly for the first time, he reached out to gently pat the maid’s shoulder.

“Just felt a bit faint, huh?”

“Eek.”

“Judging from your reaction, I’m sure of it. Maybe I’ve been neglecting you a little too much.”

That exact same expression he always used with her made Cecil shudder all over. She swallowed dryly and watched the maid’s reaction closely.

“I-I’m satisfied! Truly...”

“No need to force yourself.”

Predictably, the frightened maid forced a smile and spilled out excuses—but Whitney cut her off sharply.

“I can’t leave a bad memory with someone who’ll soon be saving the world, can I?”

Though his voice was low, it reached Hestia’s ears clearly—and she, in disguise as the maid, couldn’t help but flinch.

‘S-Saintess!?’

Of course, Cecil, who was proficient in not only swordsmanship but also magic, had long since cast an auditory enhancement spell.

‘Then that new maid... is the prince’s fiancée who was kidnapped at the banquet by black mages!?’

Luckily, she managed to cover her mouth in time, avoiding another slip like before.

‘T-Then... the true culprit of the kidnapping...’

Her heart began pounding wildly—so loudly, in fact, it seemed to drown out everything else.

“Lady Cecil. What are you doing here?”

“...!?”

She hadn’t even realized Lunelle, who always moved in silence by habit, had approached directly behind her.

“B-Bathroom.”

“...?”

“Training’s done, so I was heading to the bath...”

“Ah, I see.”

Fortunately, Lunelle, never the most perceptive, simply nodded at her explanation.

“Hmph.”

But it was a mostly empty corridor—voices echoed far too clearly to not be overheard by Whitney.

“First things first. Let’s organize the situation.”

Thankfully, Whitney didn’t seem to think Cecil was eavesdropping—just passing by.

—Jingle...

Rising to his feet with a narrowed gaze, Whitney pulled a ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) small bell from his coat and rang it. Lunelle, who had been staring at Cecil, immediately turned and walked toward him.

“You called.”

“Lunelle. Postpone the meeting, and escort Miss Tia to the office.”

Switching from “Saintess” to her alias, Whitney gave the order in a soft voice laced with amusement.

“And prepare ‘that’ I mentioned earlier.”

“‘That’... you mean?”

“You’ll need to prepare it discreetly. Without anyone knowing. Understood?”

“...Understood.”

With that dubious command delivered, Whitney turned his gaze to Hestia.

“Miss Tia. I’ll give you a memory you’ll never forget today.”

“Hmph...”

“A memory that will stay with you for life, no matter where you go.”

At his ominous whisper, Hestia—being led away by Lunelle—began to show clear signs of fear in her eyes.

“So, I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

With those chilling words, Whitney waved with a smile that sent a shiver down her spine.

“S-Sir Whitney. Was the issue resolved?”

“...More or less.”

Peeking her head from inside the room, Princess Katarina asked in a timid voice. Whitney, putting on what he thought was a gentle expression, responded immediately.

“It seems a maid made a minor mistake.”

“A-And... I was thinking, while I was in the room...”

“Ah, I’m sorry, Your Highness... but it looks like your farewell will have to wait.”

Interrupting her hesitantly spoken words, Whitney shook his head.

“She’s not in any condition right now.”

“I-Is that so?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to fix her—so our plans stay right on track.”

His eerie whisper made the princess swallow hard without realizing.

“...I-I’ll trust you, Sir Whitney.”

Lowering her head deeply, she answered in a timid, resigned voice.

“Of course. We’re bound together by fate, after all.”

“R-Right. Haha...”

“Well then, since the conversation’s wrapped up... it’s time to say goodbye.”

Satisfied, Whitney nodded and took a step forward. Katarina, catching on, hurried after him.

“A-Already?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“As you know, I’ve got to go tend to someone who’s not doing so well.”

“R-Right! But shouldn’t you receive the judge appointment first? If you give me paper and a pen, I’ll write it now...!”

“Ahaha. Almost forgot. Alright, we’ll do that on the way.”

Their voices gradually faded down the corridor—until silence fell once more.

‘Don’t tell me... my brother is blackmailing both the Saintess and the Crown Prince at once?’

Cecil, still covering her mouth and leaning against the wall, tried to calm her pounding heart.

‘...Then I can’t act carelessly. If I jump in recklessly at this scale, everyone could end up in danger.’

Clenching her eyes shut, she forced a calm expression and muttered to herself internally.

‘First, I need to investigate the conspiracy unfolding in this mansion—gather all the evidence.’

Though her heart still raced madly, her eyes, once opened again, burned with determination.

‘Whitney, you bastard... I’ll stop you, no matter what.’

***

“I’m sorry, but no one is allowed beyond this point.”

“W-What?”

Cecil, having firmly resolved herself and holding her breath as she tried to sneak into the room near the office, was stopped before she could even finish climbing the stairs to the top floor.

“Master... the young master gave explicit orders. Even a blood relative like you is no exception.”

She was blocked by Lunelle, who stood at the entrance of the uppermost floor.

“C-Captain. Are you really going to do this to me?”

“If you insist, I will have to use force.”

Glancing awkwardly down the hallway and trying to appeal with her eyes, Cecil pleaded, but Lunelle remained unmoved.

“...Then, at least answer one thing for your old junior.”

Biting her lip at the cold response, Cecil clenched her fists and posed her question.

“What’s going on in there right now?”

“...Hmm. I suppose I can tell you that much.”

Perhaps her words reached him slightly—after a moment of hesitation, Lunelle frowned, then began to speak.

“In the office right now, the young master is merely giving the new maid some essential education.”

“And... what kind of education would that be?”

To Cecil, who was grasping at straws, this was nothing short of a golden testimony.

“In short, education in how to fulfill one’s basic desires.”

“...What?”

“In other words, learning how to satisfy one’s hidden urges without concern for others’ judgment.”

Cecil tilted her head slightly, something clearly feeling off about Lunelle’s words.

“To outsiders, it might seem vulgar. But what matters is the result.”

“W-What are you saying?”

Now his words were too outrageous to ignore. Her jaw dropped, and she stared at Lunelle, stunned.

“...For the record, I also received that education not long ago. The results were excellent.”

“......”

“Because I was raised in a noble family, I’d always thought such acts were crude...”

Lunelle, with a slight blush creeping onto his face, continued with a strangely relieved expression.

“But after the young master’s lesson, it felt like something inside me had been set free.”

“Ah...”

“And I can assure you, for someone who’s lived a life of restraint like she has, it won’t take much for her to be swayed.”

Trailing off briefly, Lunelle then smiled in a gentle way Cecil had never seen before.

“By the young master’s warm heart, of course.”

Cecil, frozen in shock, could only mutter one phrase—a short but potent declaration.

“You... insane bastard.”

Well, considering she’d just learned her own brother apparently had a hobby of ‘training’ women, what little sister wouldn’t react that way?

***

‘Why are my ears burning again...’

No sooner had I seen off Princess Katarina and returned to the office than I scratched my suddenly itchy ear and turned my gaze.

“W-What are you planning to do to me...?”

The table where the officers had gathered for the meeting just hours earlier now had only one occupant—Lady Hestia, the Saintess—sitting there looking like she could barely breathe.

“Haha. I told you, there’s no need to be so tense.”

I did feel a bit guilty for delaying the meeting before discussing the detailed plan, but without the Saintess’s cooperation, the plan wouldn’t even be possible in the first place.

“To someone else, it might look like I’m about to devour you.”

“...P-Please spare me...”

There it is. Just a light joke, and the Saintess was already so scared she could barely speak.

At this rate, even if the plan succeeded, she might end up holding a grudge against me. That’s why I needed to work on improving our relationship now.

“We’re simply going to take a moment to be honest with our desires, Saintess.”

Clapping my hands, I glanced at the bookshelf behind me.

Creak...

At that exact moment, the mechanism behind the shelf activated, revealing a hidden passage leading to the basement.

“...W-Whatever it is, please... be gentle.”

The Saintess, staring blankly at the opening, seemed to have misunderstood completely and began to whimper.

“Haha... I’m not sure what you’re imagining, but you won’t be going down there today.”

I had no choice but to clear up the misunderstanding.

“You just need to experience what comes out of there.”

“H-Huh...?”

Of course, she was still sniffling and clearly had no idea what I meant.

“Y-Yes, sir!”

Just then, Sasha appeared from the passage, pulling a cart, saving me from having to explain further.

“I’ve brought all the appetizers first...”

The cart she pushed was piled high with a wide array of dishes made from all the finest ingredients the mansion had to offer.

“And the rest?”

“J-Just say the word, and I’ll bring them right away!”

That’s right. This was my ultimate secret weapon for dealing with the Grand Saintess: the “Mobile Banquet Tactic.”

“W-What is all this...?”

“I told you, didn’t I?”

Even noble ladies, raised from childhood to control their weight and live with restraint, often have a secret desire to indulge—just once, without limits.

I’d tested this on even someone as stoic as Lunelle, and it proved that not even a future killing machine could resist the lure of food.

“Let’s be honest with our desires.”

“Ah... ah...”

“I know you’ve been skipping meals because you were suspicious of the mansion’s food, you know?”

If Lady Hestia had lived a life as strict as Lunelle’s—and would continue to do so in the future—then how would she react?

“If you're worried it might be poisoned, then I’ll eat with you. How about that?”

“Th-This won’t be enough to break me...”

Sure, that’s what she’d say at first.

—Grrr...

But hunger silences even the strongest pride.

“For someone resisting so hard, your body sure is honest.”

“Ugh.”

“Well, if you really don’t want to, I won’t force you...”

With a slight smirk, I teased her just enough to make her face turn bright red—then delivered the final blow, using a memory from my past life that I’d been saving.

“...And I just so happen to have your favorite wine.”

“...!”

“If you go back to the temple, you’ll never get to taste it again, right?”

Unless my memory was distorted, Hestia had been a heavy drinker before becoming the Saintess—she loved all kinds of alcohol, especially wine.

“So, what will you do?”

The bottle I now held before her, previously nestled in the cart’s ice bucket, was a premium thirty-year-old vintage.

There was no way she could ignore it.

“...Give it to me.”

“Hmm? I didn’t quite hear that.”

Just as expected, her tiny, trembling voice reached my ears after a brief pause.

“Could you say it clearly—exactly what you want, in your own words?”

“J-Just one glass...”

And so I made her lower her last psychological defense herself.

“One glass of what?”

Finally, all the time and effort poured into this plan bore the sweetest fruit imaginable.

“...Just one glass, please.”

Thus, the Saintess—face flushed deep red—fell to temptation, and her surrender marked the perfect conclusion.