Alessia’s arrival sent a sharp wave of tension through the pleasure house.

Behind her trailed a squad of nearly thirty soldiers in Imperial Guard uniforms. Cloth insignias embroidered with cherry blossoms adorned their right arms. They looked fierce—ready to tear the place down.

Perched atop a table with legs crossed, Alessia sipped tea calmly. A crowd of curious onlookers gathered around.

Some recognized her instantly—the renowned Sovereign Alessia.

Such a lofty figure would never normally set foot here. Why grace this place today? Deeply puzzling.

Merely the Sovereign visiting a pleasure house defied all reason.

Kanata appeared at the doorway, expression tinged with guilt. She hadn’t done anything wrong—but a nervous chill still crept up her spine.

“U-um… To what do we owe the honor? How could someone of your esteemed stature, Lady Alessia, possibly deign to visit… a place like ours?”

She couldn’t resist slipping in a barb. That haughty, condescending air was just so damn insufferable.

“Tch. Still sharp-tongued after all these days,” Alessia remarked, setting down her cup and crossing her arms. Contempt in her eyes sharpened noticeably.

She’d half-hoped Kanata would be dressed as a pleasure house girl—easier to tease. Alas.

Just a kitchen cook, reeking of oil and smoke, utterly devoid of allure.

“Your sister is under my men’s watch. Aren’t you thinking of currying favor? Or… is it fine if she suffers a little?”

Kanata’s body trembled slightly.

She’d been working here days on end—only visiting Nozomi at night, returning at dawn. Slightly more time together, yet gaps remained.

*That damn Alessia… exploiting my absence. How despicable.*

“I’m warning you—don’t you dare lay a finger on Nozomi!”

Flushed with emotion, Kanata lunged and grabbed the Sovereign’s collar, forgetting all about status.

Using family as leverage? Utterly low.

“Well, don’t blame me yet,” Alessia said smoothly. “Let’s calculate: VIP room—3,000 yen daily. Consultations, meds—over 50,000 yen monthly. Surgery? 150,000 yen per session. Total? Roughly 1.1 million yen a month.”

She scribbled the numbers on the table with charcoal.

“Your wage here? 100 yen per hour. Eight hours—800 yen. Monthly? 24,000. Even with tips, barely tens of thousands. Think that compares to working under me?”

Yet those words were unjust. She had no right to speak them.

“Wait—wasn’t *you* who fired me?” Kanata shot back, voice trembling. “Did I *want* to end up on the streets scrambling for work? If you hadn’t refused to plead for Father… he’d still be alive! My sister and I wouldn’t be in this wretched state!”

An undeniable truth. Alessia offered no explanation. She signaled a subordinate. A briefcase arrived—stuffed full of cash.

And so, the all-too-familiar scene began again.

“Want it? Then kneel. Pick up every bill. And shout clearly: *‘Thank you for Lady Alessia’s charity.’*”

A thick stack of bills slapped Kanata’s face—then scattered into the air.

A rain of money. A sight so cruelly beautiful it stole the breath away.