Chapter 43: Capitalist Alicia!
“Eli.” Alicia knocked on Elidranthia’s bedroom door while Rodrique and Jadenbale followed behind, carrying a tray of snacks and tea. The plan was simple: Alicia would charm Eli over a tea break and gently coax her into continuing the clinic—at least until the final numbers were tallied.
“Where’s the honorific? You’re being rude,” they whispered, frowning at Alicia’s casual tone.
“You want it to sound friendly, right? You know she hates honorifics. She wanted to be modest—experience the life of commoners,” Alicia explained matter-of-factly.
“I don’t get it. Did she regret being a count’s daughter?” Jadenbale asked.
“Ah, I see! Like when a king goes incognito in books, right?” Rodrique nodded, finally catching on. They were so busy arguing they forgot they were standing right outside Elidranthia’s door.
Before Alicia could reply, the door swung open.
“You know I can hear all of you, right? So, what do you want?” Eli stood with a hand on her hip; the fury from earlier still simmered.
“I brought cookies and tea, Lady Elidranthia,” Alicia said with a curtsy, her best etiquette on display. She could practically feel the two goons behind her facepalming at her hypocrisy.
“Come in, Alicia.” Eli pouted, arms crossed. “Are you here to persuade me to keep running the clinic? Don’t worry—I’ll continue treating patients tomorrow. But I’m done managing the clinic itself. Jadenbale, Rodrique, tell that to the people. There won’t be any further lottery.”
The two men exhaled in relief. Their mistress was still benevolent and responsible; that eased their hearts. Elidranthia might be angry, but she knew she couldn’t just shut the clinic down. Doing so would tarnish her father’s reputation, and canceling the lottery winners would spark a riot.
But Alicia didn’t care about any of that. As a true American, it was time to spread the gospel of capitalism! There must be no free healthcare in this county. A county paying a top-class doctor to heal the poor? Blasphemy! Such things defied capitalist law.
“Eh, I’m not here to persuade you, milady,” Alicia declared proudly. “I’m here to teach you the wisdom of another world.”
“Hm? What is it?” Eli, who had expected Alicia and Rodrique to persuade her, raised an eyebrow when Alicia said otherwise.
“Well, first of all, I’m not angry at the civilians who sold the lottery tickets. It was quite ingenious of them to think of such a plan within several days. It just means they value money more than health. I just think it’s unfair, you see. They get money while we toiled hard in the clinic,” Alicia said.
(It should be noted that Alicia rarely visited the clinic, so claiming she toiled there was quite the exaggeration. Unfortunately, her words shocked Rodrique and Jadenbale enough that they overlooked that detail.)
“I agree. Misusing our lady’s benevolence is never right. We must correct these civilians. These tickets should never be resold—they’re meant for the person who won them,” Jadenbale said firmly. As a soldier, discipline was paramount: if a man was told to hold the line, he held the line. If he was told to be healed, then healed he must be.
“Erm… no, that’s not what I meant, Sir Jadenbale.” Alicia waved her hand. “I mean, the tickets—the service—is ours to begin with. If they want to resell the tickets, shouldn’t we get a share? Instead of banning it, we should demand thirty—no, half the price!”
Alicia the Greedy had gone too far. Even the most notorious corporations bearing the name of a certain rainforest on Earth took only thirty-five percent. She truly bore the mark of a capitalist. Americans should be proud of her.
“Oh! Good idea, Miss Alicia. We could fill our coffers that way,” Rodrique said eagerly, agreeing to the idea.
“Indeed! Two birds with one stone,” Alicia replied, glowing with pride.
“That… doesn’t sound nice,” Eli said, frowning. Yet she couldn’t completely refute their logic. After all, they weren’t wrong—the options were either favoritism like her father’s or profit like Alicia’s. But her heart refused it.
“With the money, we can build enterprises, rise above the peasants…” Alicia muttered, eyes shining. “Hehehe… maybe buy some slaves to minimize costs. We’ll become CEOs—success is within reach! Money will pour into our coffers without us doing anything…”
Alicia’s inner capitalist had taken the reins, and her audience could only stare in disgust. She took no shame in being a capitalist. After all, money should rule the world.
As expected, the only things good about Alicia were her looks and magic—both of which were gifts from the goddess. Her personality, however, was completely rotten.
Elidranthia felt disgusted. She realized that Alicia’s words were logical, but not right. The capitalist path might indeed bring prosperity to her territory, but it would also widen the gap between her people. There would be those who grew rich simply for breathing.
Unlike Alicia, Eli had once been at the bottom of the social ladder on Earth. She blamed her suffering on the capitalist propaganda spread by the so-called greatest country in the world. She rejected it in her heart. Her entire soul denied such a vision.
Ironically, Alicia’s speech only strengthened her resolve. If you became rich, you were obliged to help the poor. That was fair. That was just.
“Jadenbale, inform the clinic that I will continue treatment tomorrow,” Eli said. She took a deep breath before continuing, “Tell that merchant he earned his ticket, and I will heal him. As for the civilian who sold the ticket—he may not participate in future lotteries. From now on, tickets may not be sold, and every winner’s name must be recorded.”
“Yes, milady.” Jadenbale saluted, impressed by Elidranthia’s unwavering principles.
With renewed vigor, Eli reopened her clinic the next day. The wealthy merchant who had bought the ticket came to see her, guilt written all over his face. He hadn’t meant to anger her; it had all been an act of desperation.
“Milady, I apologize for imposing on you,” he said. “But I dreamed of playing with my son again. When I heard of your lottery for limb recovery, I bargained away all my wares to buy it. I just wanted to run with him once more—to spar with him. He’s fifteen now, so I might lose, haha. I’m just a peddler, after all. He’s enrolling as a knight in Slane territory soon.”
He had lost a foot. When Eli removed his wooden peg, the stump was blistered and raw—a clear sign of how harsh life had been for him.
“I see. Sorry, I was just feeling unwell yesterday. I hope I didn’t disturb your travel plans.”
“Of course not, Milady—the honored mage of Shadowstep. I am willing to wait however long it takes.” The merchant bowed deeply. This is the correct way. Eli realized she was wrong to expect praise from others for her good deeds. Wasn’t helping others enough? Seeing their happy faces should be enough of a reward.
“Whew, I’m tired… but we’re finally done.” Eli sighed, eating lunch with Count Shadowstep’s vassals—those she had healed the day before. Three whole-wheat sandwiches filled with bacon and eggs sat before her. And, being a proper lady, she didn’t pick them up with her hands but cut them delicately with a knife and fork, as one would a steak.
Alicia felt her skin crawl at the sight. Who in their right mind ate a sandwich—or worse, a hamburger—with cutlery? The blasphemy of it made her shudder.
“We’re lucky the customers were so understanding, Lady Elidranthia,” Alicia said, wincing as Elana forced her to serve Eli’s hamburger on a silver plate, complete with fork and knife at the side. Eli winced as well; even she found the entire show of opulence ridiculous, but with other guests watching, she had to show some opulence.
“Hahaha! Who would dare complain before the first mage of Shadowstep?” one of the vassals boomed. “They should grovel at your feet, Milady—eternally grateful for your benevolence! Your healing is worth more than gold and sometimes can’t be bought at all, even in Slane territory.”
“Ah, Elidranthia, allow me to introduce you,” Count Shadowstep said. “You’ve met him before, but this is Viscount Kerbeck, our most trusted vassal, who held a large trading hub depot near the capital. These are Baron Khire and Baron Dole.”
“Greetings, Baron Khire, Baron Dole, Viscount Kerbeck.” Despite her reluctance, Miss Laura’s endless etiquette lessons had left their mark. Elidranthia stood, curtsied gracefully, and sat back down to continue her meal. Alicia followed her lead with half the enthusiasm.
“Ah, you prefer half-bread sandwiches? Hahaha, how precocious. My son also loved them at your age—he’s a court noble now.” One of the barons chuckled.
“By the way,” Count Shadowstep said, turning toward Viscount Kerbeck, “I recall that you have a daughter around Elidranthia’s age. Would you mind if she came to visit? My daughter’s been cooped up in this territory for too long. It would be nice if she could play with girls of her age and status.”
“Oh, my pleasure, Count Shadowstep. Yes, I have a daughter a year older. It would be an honor for her to have tea with you, Lady Elidranthia. Our doors are always open to the scions of Shadowstep. Please, visit us — I will also entrust my daughter to your care at the royal academy,” Viscount Kerbeck replied.
Elidranthia tilted her head, wondering why she hadn’t attended school earlier. The answer came indirectly from her father.
“Well, the academy is expensive for those without scholarships. Even I had to take on some debt just to enroll my two sons there. Thankfully, Elidranthia is a mage. Hahaha.”
I know education is expensive, but this world is truly rotten if even nobles can’t afford it, she thought, quietly cutting her whole-wheat sandwich before taking a bite.
Then came dessert — apples, mangoes, and grapes imported from other territories. The lunch had been hastily prepared; the Count had expected them to leave after receiving their healing, as was customary. He never imagined they’d stay and trouble Elidranthia. He had underestimated how rare a Level 6 mage truly was since Alicia didn’t seem to share the same popularity despite her higher level.
Light mages, especially, were prized above all others — they saved lives directly. That alone made the visiting nobles linger, each trying to curry favor with the Count. Especially since Eli was a noble.
Only after securing promises that Elidranthia would visit their homes did they finally depart.
“Father, do I really have to visit them all?” She asked, wincing. He had promised every baron and viscount that she would come to their territories.
“It’s just one day each. Think of it as playing at your friends’ houses,” Count Shadowstep said with a weary smile. He realized had over-committed himself.
Being a rural count, he had mostly been ignored until now. Despite his age, he wasn’t used to being pursued — he was usually the one doing the persuading.
Inwardly, he apologized to his daughter for the burden he’d placed on her. Still, he hoped the tea parties would make up for it. It was time, at least, for Elidranthia to have friends her own age.