Slow Life in the Frontier with the Villainess

The Solmontaille Empire was a land of water.

From the mountain range that formed its western border, rivers branched into countless tributaries, flowing across the gentle plains. Meanwhile, streams from the coastal imperial capital of Roquelle merged with the rivers from the mountains, forming a complex web of waterways.

Because of this, the empire relied on its rivers for transportation. Boats were the primary mode of travel, more common than roads for traversing the vast distances.

The great river that Dietvelde and Celestina were currently navigating was the largest waterway in the empire. Serving as a canal, it connected the eastern and western regions, functioning as one of the nation’s major thoroughfares. Using this route, one could travel almost directly from the coastal capital to the inland frontier territories—though the journey was exceedingly long.

It had been two or three hours since their departure.

The landscape had transitioned from the imperial capital’s uniform, stately architecture to colorful buildings made of brick and stucco.

The towns sprawled along the capital’s outskirts pressed right up to the water’s edge, their walls nearly touching the river.

The wide, well-maintained main river flowed gently, but the narrower canals branching off it resembled shadowy alleyways. The gondola and the cargo ship stayed on the main river, leaving the gloomy side canals behind as they continued upstream.

The farther they traveled, the fewer buildings appeared, gradually replaced by serene plains that stretched out as far as the eye could see. This was the start of the empire’s inland region.

Even so, the frontier territories—and the Marquisate of Savignac—were still a distant destination.

The Savignac family’s engine-powered ship showed no signs of fatigue, but the two Kelpies pulling the Sanctrenar family gondola were already slowing. The creatures, accustomed to the clean, brisk currents of the capital, were struggling with the still, heavier waters of the countryside canals.

“We should probably stop for a break,” Dietvelde muttered.

“I quite agree,” Celestina said, surprising him with her readiness to concur.

“There’s a trading post ahead,” Dietvelde added.

“Yes, the one operated by the La Mer Trading Company,” Celestina interjected, cutting him off. “It has stables and dining facilities. That will do nicely.”

“…Right.”

Dietvelde fell silent, somewhat deflated by her precise knowledge.

The La Mer Trading Company was the largest commercial organization in the empire, practically inseparable from the imperial commerce guild. Its influence extended across the continent, rivaling even the famed caravans led by the Gerbirea family, one of the Seven Great Elven Houses.

And Celestina, sitting across from him, was a member of the Sanctrenar Ducal House, which controlled this vast trading network.

“…You seem to know quite a bit,” Dietvelde remarked, his tone implying disbelief that someone so tied to the capital would have knowledge of the countryside.

“Of course,” Celestina said, turning her nose up slightly. “As a member of the Sanctrenar family, it’s only natural that I’m aware of the locations of our trading posts.”

“I see…” Dietvelde nodded, genuinely impressed.

He had heard rumors of her involvement in the family’s business ventures, but he had assumed it was mostly in name only. Her confident grasp of the company’s operations suggested otherwise.

(She’s more capable than I expected…)

Dietvelde studied her with new appreciation.

He had initially written Celestina off as a pampered noblewoman—elegant and beautiful, but arrogant and entitled. Yet, despite her high status, she had neither looked down on him nor dismissed him as a mere “countryside noble.”

The gondola slowed as they approached a large trading post along the riverbank. Its covered dock suggested it was a relatively significant establishment.

Dietvelde stepped off the gondola with cautious curiosity, while Celestina disembarked with practiced grace.

The trading post’s sign displayed the emblems of several merchant companies, including that of the La Mer Trading Company.

A small group of employees waited at the dock, led by a well-dressed man who stepped forward with a polite bow.

“Welcome, Lady Celestina. It is an honor to host you. What can we prepare for your visit today?”

“A room, if you have one available. We’ll need to rest and have a meal. Also, prepare a place to tether the Kelpies,” Celestina instructed with calm authority.

“Of course, my lady. We’ll see to it immediately,” the man replied smoothly.

“One more thing—I’ll need access to a communication device. I must contact my father in the capital,” she added.

“As you wish. Please, follow me,” he said, gesturing toward the building.

The trading post’s first floor was a spacious, functional area.

Directly in front of the entrance was a reception desk. To the right were semi-private negotiation booths, while the left side housed a dining area with tables and a counter leading to the kitchen.

Most visitors to trading posts were merchants, travelers, or adventurers moving between towns via the canals. Some were locals, stopping by to browse or purchase goods.

The trading post operated under the commerce guild’s system: items were assessed, sold, and restocked under strict regulations to ensure fair pricing and quality. However, rare or high-value goods—and transactions involving nobles—were handled privately on the upper floors.

“This way, please,” the manager said, leading them up a staircase.

The second floor was an entirely different world, exuding sophistication and luxury.

Plush carpets covered the floors, while the walls were adorned with elegant wallpaper in muted tones. Sunlight streamed through large windows, illuminating the ornate hallways lined with heavy wooden doors.

The manager guided them to the largest room at the end of the hall.

Dietvelde hesitated briefly before entering, overwhelmed by the grandeur. Celestina, meanwhile, walked in with the practiced ease of someone entirely at home in such surroundings.

The room was spacious and impeccably furnished. A beautifully carved table and chairs sat at the center, while a chaise lounge rested against one wall, inviting guests to relax. Decorative screens embroidered with intricate patterns offered privacy, and the large windows, framed by luxurious drapes, provided an unobstructed view of the river outside.

It felt less like a trading post and more like a room in a noble’s estate.

Dietvelde stood dumbfounded until Celestina motioned for him to sit.

“What would you like to drink?” the attendant asked.

“Tea, please,” Celestina replied without hesitation.

“I’ll have the same,” Dietvelde added.

The attendant smiled and nodded. “As you wish.”

Once they were alone, Dietvelde finally allowed himself to relax, sinking into his chair with a sigh.

(This is going to take some getting used to…)