The Surname Business
“Did the Lord really say that commoners are allowed to have surnames?”
“No, to be precise, he said if we’re going to have them, we should make sure they’re different from the existing ones.”
“Isn’t that the same thing!”
It was the slack season, a time when there was precious little to do. Even though the North had plenty of hunters, the vast majority of the population spent their days idling at home. As people are wont to do when bored, they perked up at the latest news.
“That’s it, I’m getting a surname for our family while I’m at it!”
“What are you going to name it?”
“Well, wild roses bloom all over our yard in the summer. How about ‘Wildrose’?”
“It’s pretty, but… is that how you make a surname?”
“How should I know? Have I ever even seen a noble?”
“Hahaha! That’s true. But tell me, do you even know how to use that name? They say when you go to the Administrative Welfare Office to register it, you have to write down the spelling, too.”
“Tsk! I’ll have to ask the village chief for a favor. Maybe I should learn how to read and write while I’m at it.”
“As if that’s easy.”
“We don’t have anything to do in the winter anyway.”
“Forget it. Maybe the kids with soft brains could do it, but for old pumpkins like us whose heads have hardened up? No way.”
“Kids with soft brains…?”
“It’s just a figure of speech.”
Chatter follows the flow of consciousness, so conversations often drifted to other topics, but there were always those who were quick to act.
“Ugh, it’s cold, so cold.”
“Oh my, were you waiting for the doors to open?”
A clerk arriving at the office at the crack of dawn was startled to find half a dozen people huddled in front of the Administrative Welfare Office before it had even opened.
“We’re freezing to death out here. Can’t we wait inside until the civil service desk opens?”
“Of course, please come in! Have some of this, too.”
A few junior clerks quickly boiled water and served warm grain tea, causing the expressions of the frozen petitioners to soften.
“But what brings you here so early? You could have come later after we opened.”
“Well, there’s a rumor that it’s first-come, first-served.”
“First-come, first-served?”
“For the surnames. They say if someone else has already claimed one, you can’t use it…”
“Ah!”
The clerk serving the tea realized what was happening.
“So, everyone who came today is…?”
It was, quite literally, a frenzy.
The season was shifting into the heart of winter. Fortunately, the Northerners were obsessively prepared for the cold, so they were managing to maintain their daily lives despite the piling snow and biting winds.
“Wildrose! You’re here!”
“Oh, Bearheart! You’re early!”
Two neighbors living near the Lord’s Castle had recently started calling each other Wildrose and Bearheart. Since they had gone through the trouble of creating surnames but had no real use for them as commoners, they had simply decided to use them as nicknames for one another.
“Where are you headed?”
“I’m going to poke around the trade post and the inn. I thought I’d lend a hand if there’s any day labor to be found and earn some pocket money. What about you?”
“This.”
The man called Wildrose grinned and showed off a straw-wrapped bundle containing a dozen eggs.
“The missus told me to take these to the merchant guild and trade them for milk.”
“Whoa. You saved up that many without eating them?”
“Without eating them? My kids have one of these every single day. These are just the leftovers.”
“Huh? There are already that many chickens?”
“Six hens already.”
The man wore an expression that suggested he was full even without eating. How could he not, seeing his young children cracking open an egg every day? *It was definitely a good idea to get chickens early!* Even though it was a bit annoying that they crowed at dawn and ruined his sleep-in, whenever he saw the eggs laid in the coop each morning, his heart felt at peace.
“By this spring, I might be able to slaughter one or two a month. Hehe.”
“Tsk. Should I have bought chickens instead of sheep?”
Despite his words, the man who raised sheep was wearing a scarf and socks knitted from wool around his neck and feet.
Heeeee-haw-.
Clatter, rattle-. Thump-.
A massive carriage blocked the path of the men chatting on their way to the trade post. While merchants had been visiting the North more frequently lately, a carriage this opulent was a rare sight. The two men stared at it in awe.
“I’d like to ask for directions. I heard there’s a building here that handles administrative affairs.”
The carriage window clicked open, revealing a middle-aged noblewoman with a low voice. To be precise, she was a woman who looked quite distinguished. Sun-kissed bronze skin, sharp eyes, and a relaxed demeanor.
“……”
Gulp.
At that moment, the two men swallowed hard without realizing it. Putting aside the fact that she was dazzlingly beautiful despite her middle age, the aura surrounding her created an atmosphere that made it difficult for ordinary people to even approach her. It was like the presence of a well-honed blade.
“Do you not know?”
“Ah, ah…! The, the Administrative Welfare Office is that way! If you follow this road straight, you’ll see a large two-story building. That’s where they handle administrative work.”
“Thank you.”
Clack-.
Having found her answer, the woman gave a single nod and closed the window.
“Thank you. Have something to eat.”
The warrior riding behind the coachman tossed them a silver coin. The carriage was already disappearing into the distance. The two men stared at the carriage for a long time before looking at each other.
“……”
“Split it?”
“Deal.”
Regardless, it was a stroke of luck for the two of them.
“Administrative Officer, Administrative Officer!”
“I’m not deaf.”
Kalisa, who had been out at the Administrative Welfare Office to draft the detailed plan for next year’s seedling purchases, burst into the office with a pale face.
“You’re starting to resemble Jamie more and more, aren’t you? Why don’t you catch your breath first?”
“Haa, haa. How could you say such a thing—!”
“It’s just a figure of speech. What is it? What happened? Did someone cause trouble?”
Aiden glanced briefly at Kalisa, who was sweating despite the cold weather, then lowered his head and continued flipping through the documents he was reading, responding dismissively.
“Trouble? No, it’s an incident!”
“What kind of incident?”
“The Warrior in White has arrived, right now!”
Only then did Aiden put down the document he was reading and ask back, “The Angel in White?”
“The Warrior in White.”
“...?”
Aiden thought to himself. *Did she have a dream or something? What is a Warrior in White?* Ignoring Aiden’s confusion, an excited Kalisa began to rattle off a list of things.
“The Warrior in White, Lady Lapisha! If you were to name the three greatest healers of the Empire, she would certainly hold a spot. The true healer who serves in the lowest of places! The warrior of the clinic who wields a massive curved sword and a whip, declaring, ‘I will kill anyone who tries to take a patient away without my permission!’”
“...If she kills other people to save a patient, isn’t that just a net zero?”
“Don’t get hung up on the trivial details!”
No, I think that’s actually quite important… Aiden felt dejected. Is it just my imagination, or are my adjutants becoming increasingly radical lately?
“Anyway, why did such a famous person come to the Administrative Welfare Office?”
“To register her family registry! No, she already did, just a moment ago!”
“Family registry? You mean that nationwide healer just became a resident of the North?”
“That’s what I’m saying! I couldn’t believe it, so I checked the documents with my own eyes on my way here!”
“Why?”
“Because Lady Lapisha is now Lady Lapisha Japa.”
“Wait, didn’t you ask why she came to the North? If she’s that famous, you should have asked.”
“I told you, Lady Lapisha is now Lady Lapisha Japa!”
“What does that— Ah…? Don’t tell me?”
Kalisa nodded.
“Is it really because of the surname?”
“Yes.”
“For someone of that stature, couldn’t she have received a surname anywhere?”
“That’s… it’s a bit complicated.”
“Why?”
“Lady Lapisha is of the bloodline of a desert tribe that was wiped out.”
“And?”
“And it was our Empire that wiped that tribe out.”
“……”
Aiden quickly pieced the situation together in his mind. The famous healer named Lapisha must have saved the lives of countless people in the Empire. Naturally, someone of her level would have been granted a surname—if not a hereditary noble title, then at least a merit-based one—many times over. But the healer, determined not to forget her roots, had insisted on carrying the surname of her extinct clan rather than an Imperial one.
‘The Empire wouldn’t have been able to grant her the surname of a tribe they personally exterminated.’
This was a matter of politics. If they weren’t careful, rumors might spread that ‘The Empire has acknowledged the revival of that tribe.’ Once that happened, it would be uncontrollable. The Empire hadn’t been an empire from the moment of its birth; it had become one by subjugating countless regions with different histories and cultures. If rumors started circulating that the Imperial family had acknowledged the revival of a minority tribe, it would be impossible to contain.
“Will we be okay?” Roland asked with concern. Perhaps because he had studied at the Academy in the capital, his brain worked faster on these political dynamics than any other adjutant.
“What do you think?”
“I think they could find fault if they wanted to.”
“Which means, conversely, that it isn’t exactly wrong.”
The fact that they *could* find fault meant there wasn’t a major justification for it anyway.
“Then let’s leave it as is.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s not a surname ‘granted’ by the Empire’s nobles or the Imperial family. An ‘Imperial citizen’ simply came to register her own surname on the Imperial registry because she didn’t want to forget her roots.”
“...Ah!”
Politics is, after all, a battle of justifications.
“Draft a letter to the Central Government. State that ‘An Imperial citizen came of her own volition to register her surname so that her roots could become a part of the Empire’s history.’”
“Won’t the Central Government push back?”
“What kind of pushback could they possibly give?”
“For instance, that the North is doing this with the intention of helping the revival of a long-extinct minority tribe, or…”
“Who are we to help anyone? Do we even have the capacity for that?”
“Kekeke.”
Jamie clutched his stomach and laughed. Having nothing at all was another way to guarantee freedom. No adult thinks a child playing with a box cutter is going to stab someone with it. They either scold them for playing with something dangerous or swap it out for a toy knife.
‘Either way, the North benefits.’
If they scold them, they could end up owing a debt to that healer—the Angel or Warrior in White. If they swap it for a toy knife? From that point on…
‘Couldn’t we start doing business with these surnames in earnest?’
One must utilize everything that can be utilized. After all, his North was still small, weak, and precious.