Chapter 11
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Countess and Postpartum Care (2)
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“The Lord of this land, Count Sinclair, has passed away. Village Chief Dominic of Evergreen, come to Sinclair Castle at once. Soldiers have been dispatched for this purpose, and refusal will not be tolerated.”
The senior soldier unfurled a fancy parchment and delivered the lord's command in a voice laced with contrived dignity.
‘Count Sinclair? Gramps's son?’
He was the son of the Old Lord, who had entered secluded training, and the current powerholder ruling over the county as Count Sinclair.
Dominic glanced around at the soldiers encircling him. Having visited the lord's castle once before, he recognized a few faces. But they stood with rigid expressions, silently carrying out their orders without any sign of familiarity.
Yet Ian stepped forward to block the soldiers' path.
It was an unexpected turn for Dominic.
‘I figured he'd just let them take me. Wait, four soldiers and one knight... He's a knight, so he should win, right?’
Though the situation was tense, Dominic—whose guts had grown from all his recent ordeals—imagined Ian fighting off the four soldiers single-handedly.
“Sir Knight, this is the lord's command. Step aside.”
“I too have received orders from the lord to protect this man. So how could I hand over the village chief without even knowing what's going on? What exactly is this about?”
“How could lowly soldiers like us presume to know our master's mind? We simply carry out his orders.”
The experienced soldier was trying to calm Dominic down.
“Did he say anything else?”
“He commanded no delay whatsoever.”
“Hmm...”
Ian pondered with a grave expression before taking a single step back.
“Take him. But I'm coming along.”
“Very well, sir.”
“Huh? What happened to the quick decision? Hey, Knight! Weren't you trying to help me avoid getting dragged off?”
“Why would I?”
“We've shared meals together all this time—doesn't that count for something?”
“Tch. How obtuse. If the lord wished to punish you, he would've ordered it done on the spot instead of summoning you to the castle.”
“Oh, really?”
“Something urgent must have come up where he needs you. Get ready quickly.”
“Yeah, alright...”
Ian shot a glance at the senior soldier, who nodded as if to say that much was permitted.
‘Why would he need me? All I've shown him is food-related stuff... Something urgent. Did he get a craving?’
But on the other hand, Dominic wondered, ‘Would he really send four soldiers just for that?’ A twinge of suspicion filled him. Even so, his hands diligently packed various spices into his bag.
Back at the lord's castle once more.
The first time, Dominic had been overwhelmed by its imposing presence, but now on the second visit, it felt somewhat familiar.
“When you meet the lord, first kneel, raise both arms to the sky, then lower them while bowing your back in greeting...”
The excitement was short-lived. As the attendant began drilling him on the etiquette one must absolutely observe before the lord, Dominic's head throbbed.
‘Why is this so complicated?’
A regional lord was said to be like a king in his domain, and it wasn't empty words.
Only after learning over a dozen etiquettes—how to walk, greet, speak opinions, express thanks, and more—did permission finally come.
“I didn't expect you'd come along. But why didn't you have to go through the etiquette lessons, Knight?”
“Don't mistake me for someone like you. I've long since mastered such things.”
“Oh, right.”
Dominic barely swallowed a quip about how convenient long bag straps must be, his face twisted like he'd eaten dung as he headed toward the lord's office.
Still, having a familiar face along eased his nerves a bit.
The door to the lord's office was made of high-quality oak, its grain vividly alive. Overlaid with carved wood featuring lily motifs that seemed ready to bloom, the door itself felt like a work of art.
Thud.
“Village Chief Dominic, enter.”
“Y-Yes! Greetings, my lord!”
His tension didn't ease one bit. The moment the door opened and he spotted the lord seated at the head, Dominic forgot every lesson and prostrated himself flat.
‘Argh, damn this bone-deep ingrained herbivore life.’
He briefly felt a pang of self-loathing, wondering why he couldn't be like the bold, cool protagonists from all those genre novels he'd read countless times in his past life.
But the lord showed no sign of blaming him for it.
“You may raise your head. I've summoned you because I have an important request.”
“A request for the likes of me...? Just give me your orders, my lord! I live by your grace—how could I presume to receive a request?”
“Haha, such humility. Sir Hanover, what do you make of this man's conduct?”
The lord looked pleased and turned to Ian standing behind Dominic.
‘Say good things, good things. This is prime pumpkin-on-the-vine opportunity!’
Dominic instinctively knew that granting the lord's request would earn him a powerful patron moving forward. The problem was Ian. If that rigid knight with nothing but good looks spouted nonsense like he has character issues, he's greedy for money, he picks and chooses who to show manners to, it would be game over for his lotto win.
“...He possesses keen insight into ingredients. He views the world without prejudice, has the courage to stand firm regardless of status, and blends ideals with reality to resolve issues effectively. He would serve our lord well in any capacity.”
“Hahaha! For the famously picky Sir Hanover of the castle to praise him so— I should have scouted him sooner when Father valued him highly. Excellent, simply excellent!”
The lord clapped his knee in delight at Ian's words.
But Dominic twisted his neck to stare at Ian behind him with a look that said, ‘What did this guy eat wrong?’ Ian averted his eyes.
“If his character checks out too, there's nothing more to see. Dominic, was it?”
“Yes, my lord!”
“My wife gave birth recently. A precious son.”
“Really? Congratulations, my lord!”
It was unexpected news. From what he'd heard at the last lord's meeting, she still had over a month to go.
“Four weeks earlier than expected. Fortunately, both mother and child are healthy, but I'm still worried. I didn't even announce it to the territory out of concern.”
Still, it was a relief. Though premature, the well-cared-for mother had protected the baby.
‘But why tell me all this suddenly?’
He wasn't even a retainer—just the chief of a tiny fishing village.
“One of the maids who came with my wife from her family bought something strange from a street vendor, worried for her mistress.”
The lord's voice remained gentle.
But Dominic, guessing what was coming, froze solid.
‘It's the seaweed! Not like this era fines for false advertising, but punishment? No, offending a powerful figure trumps any ad law violation... I'm screwed!’
He'd thought swapping the Tang Dynasty Chuhakgi record of ‘a whale eating seaweed post-birth’ to ‘a turtle eating it’ was harmless, but his mouth went dry anyway.
‘Should I apologize quick? They say the one who strikes first gets the advantage—beg forgiveness? ...No? What if I say I saw it myself? Seaweed is good for postpartum moms!’
Seaweed was packed with iron, potassium, calcium, and hard-to-find iodine. Countries without seaweed diets had such low iodine that places like Australia mandated iodized salt in bread-making.
‘Stay quiet for now. I can beg later!’
A bit exaggerated, sure, but not fabricated—Dominic resolved to brazen it out.
“Never imagined eating the Devil's Hand like this, haha. I tried it myself, and it was quite good. No poison either.”
“Ahaha, ha! Of course, my lord!”
Dominic laughed awkwardly, agreeing with the lord.
It made sense for something fed to a fresh mother, but they'd even tested for poison.
“Coincidence or not, the fact is my wife—who ate Devil's Hand three meals a day—is recovering remarkably fast. Surprising, isn't it? Overjoyed, I wanted to reward the seller, and it turns out you told her all this.”
“Yes, that's right! I shared all that info!”
Dominic quickly claimed full credit.
“Haha, straightforward fellow. I hear you faithfully plan Father's weekly menu too. It might burden you, but from today, entrust my wife's postpartum care to you. Devote yourself fully to her recovery!”
It was sudden employment.
But an offer he couldn't refuse.
“Yes! For weekly pay, one gold coin!”
“Hm? What an amusing one. Very well! It shall be as you wish.”
“I am deeply grateful, my lor— er, lord!”
Dominic had slammed for a high salary while the mood was good, but the lord—who was inclined to grant most requests—accepted readily.
‘I hear knights make about this. I'm rich now!’
An eight-figure salary from his past life was no longer someone else's story.