Chapter 44: Northern News
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 44: Northern News
“Mmm, delicious as always.”
Inside the bustling restaurant, I savored a piece of chicken thigh seasoned perfectly to the bone.
The response to the illustrated menu was even more explosive than I’d imagined.
I had expected some reaction, but when I heard that the lunch rush was completely full only two days after the menu was posted, I couldn't just sit still. I immediately dragged Norton along for a secret outing.
When I showed up in commoner’s clothes I’d asked Reta to find for me, Norton eventually shed his armor to accompany me. Though it seemed leaving his sword behind was asking too much, as he carried a suspiciously long, conspicuous bundle with him.
“Sir Norton, no one here will recognize me as the Grand Duchess. I told you, just eat comfortably.”
“I am eating comfortably.”
“I saw your hand twitch when that lady spoke to us earlier.”
“My apologies.”
After scraping every last bit of my milk pudding and licking my lips, Norton pushed his untouched apple pie toward me.
“This is your portion, Sir Norton.”
“It is fine if I do not eat it.”
“I’ve had enough with the pudding.”
“I wasn't staring at it because I wanted to eat it.”
After a brief back-and-forth, Norton finally began eating the pie with his usual stoic expression. Meanwhile, I took in the sight of the transformed inn restaurant.
With the large menu illustrations hanging on the walls, the entire place felt much more vibrant. The same went for the inn’s entrance visible through the window.
Regardless of the food itself, the illustrated menu was an eye-catcher. The proof was in the way every passerby stopped to look at it.
I was swinging my feet in satisfaction when my toe caught on something. Lifting the tablecloth, I found a thin booklet that looked like a magazine lying on the floor.
It was titled Northern News.
Is this a weekly? The name is as straightforward as the North itself.
Intrigued, I picked up the magazine and flipped it open, causing Norton to break into a fit of coughing.
“Oh dear, Sir Norton. Are you alright?”
“I—I am fine.”
Norton covered his mouth, glancing warily at the magazine.
“I simply swallowed wrong.”
The magazine contained various news about Blenheim, ranging from coverage of local events like an excellence-in-sheep competition to introductions of new novels and interviews with successful entrepreneurs.
As I leafed through the pages, a column caught my eye.
“Latest Capital Fashion?”
Cough. Norton choked again.
“Goodness, have some water.”
I pushed the water glass toward him and read the article.
「Among the noblewomen of the Capital, a scramble has already begun to secure the jewels for their summer stomachers. Sharaide, the Capital’s most famous boutique, has reportedly purchased enough gems and ornaments to rival a major trading company...」
I turned to Norton.
“Do the local residents read this?”
Ahem. Norton cleared his throat, the back of his neck turning a deep shade of red.
“Wh-who would read such a thing?”
I was a bit taken aback by his unusually strong denial.
“It’s just a magazine. Why the reaction?”
“...My apologies. I wouldn't know.”
Norton’s usually calm face was flushing various shades of red and purple.
What’s wrong with him? Is there something scandalous in this weekly?
I was swallowing my confusion at Norton’s excessive reaction when a voice chimed in.
“Every household keeps a copy. The territory is so vast that it’s harder than you’d think to get news from other villages.”
Marie appeared right on cue, clearing the apple pie plate and answering my unspoken question.
“Are there many magazines like this?” I asked, taking a large forkful of apple pie.
“There have been a lot more lately. Some are even given out for free because they’re full of advertisements,” Marie said with a shrug. “But Northern News is still the most famous.”
I nodded, swallowing the sweet juice of the perfectly baked apples.
“This column is actually quite interesting.”
After Marie left, I thrust the column page toward Norton, who was drinking water. He promptly burst into another sneezing fit.
It seemed my personal knight had an allergy to weekly magazines.
*
Early that morning, as he prepared to change his clothes, Loik looked up abruptly.
The Grand Duchess had said she wouldn't be coming this morning because she was busy preparing for a tea time.
“Grand Duke, may I enter?”
The voice belonged to his loyal butler.
Feeling a bit embarrassed by his own misplaced expectation, Loik cleared his throat. Whitley entered the room with a faint smile.
“I have come to assist you with your attire.”
“You?”
Loik’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. While he occasionally received the butler’s help for particularly formal occasions, he generally preferred to dress himself.
“Do I have an engagement today?”
Loik searched his memory, wondering if he had missed an important appointment.
“It is nothing like that,” Whitley said, his lips curling into a slight smirk. “I shall bring out the clothes.”
Without even asking for Loik’s preference, Whitley brought over a black jacket and a white shirt.
Though the butler’s behavior was unusual, Loik remained silent and slid his arms into the shirt as it was offered.
As he put it on, the fit felt somewhat unfamiliar. However, the way the sleeves draped with a bit more ease than before wasn't a bad feeling at all.
“Are these new clothes?”
It was definitely strange. Usually, this was the point where Whitley would provide a detailed explanation of how many suits were made and by whom, but the butler kept his mouth shut.
He looked as if he were waiting for Loik to notice something on his own.
“There, all finished. Would you like to look in the mirror?”
Look in the mirror? Why is he acting so out of character?
Feeling a sense of novelty, Loik stood before the mirror. And then...
“This... is different.”
After staring into the mirror for a long moment, Loik finally managed to squeeze out his impression.
It was different. It was hard to describe, but it was certain that these new clothes were unlike anything he’d worn before.
Loik turned to Whitley, confused. The normally stiff butler’s eyes were twinkling playfully.
“Could it be...?”
Loik’s eyes widened, but he couldn't finish his sentence. He was afraid of saying something based on a misunderstanding and embarrassing himself in front of Whitley.
However, Whitley nodded with a satisfied smile.
“Her Highness the Consort ordered these herself.”
“The Grand Duchess...”
Speechless for a moment, Loik brushed his hand over the collar of the thin spring coat he was wearing.
“Her Highness personally oversaw everything from the fabric to the finishing of the tailoring. She even checked the width and length of the sleeves to ensure they wouldn't be uncomfortable while you worked.”
The fabric was certainly luxurious, and the tailoring was delicate. It was a garment that clearly showed attention had been paid to every single detail.
“It is... certainly comfortable.”
“She also paid great attention to the silhouette. Her Highness has such an exceptional eye for fashion; Madame said it would be difficult to find such sophisticated men’s attire even in the Capital.”
Loik looked up and saw a rather handsome man reflected in the mirror. Seeing Loik awkwardly brush back his hair, Whitley gave a soft smile.
“It suits you well, Your Grace.”
“Does it?”
Loik recalled the tea time with the Grand Duchess on the night she had summoned the boutique.
— “My husband gave it to me as a gift.”
How refreshing she had looked, smiling brightly as she lifted the hem of her skirt.
In that moment, he had understood for the first time the hearts of the noblemen who participated in the Blenheim gem auctions. Thinking of a wife being that happy, anyone would want to give her the best gift possible, even if they had to take out a loan.
He had been content just seeing the Grand Duchess’s smiling face that day. To think that, in the midst of that, she had gone out of her way to have clothes made for him as her husband.
Clothes my wife had made for me.
Just the thought of it made the back of his neck flush.
Today was the day of the weekly meeting with the knight captains. He wondered if it was alright to go to an internal meeting dressed so splendidly.
Will it look like I’m showing off too much?
Loik worried that his appearance might seem like a boast of his wife’s affection, and his face reddened. It wasn't as if the clothes had "Made by the Grand Duchess" written on them.
I’m being ridiculous, being so conscious of it by myself.
Had the aides or knights of the castle ever commented on his attire? They likely wouldn't care what he wore.
Loik lingered, fussing with his clothes, until he realized his butler was watching him with a satisfied look. Embarrassed, he hurried out of the room.
He figured the cool air would help calm the heat in his face.
He was passing through the cloister leading outside when it happened.
“Commander!”
Demich, the Captain of the 1st Knight Division, was returning from the training grounds and crossing the garden from the opposite side. He was a middle-aged knight with hair, beard, and cloak that were all a vibrant red.
The members of the 1st Division, who had been walking scattered behind him, quickly fell into line behind Demich.
“Greetings to the Commander!”
The knights’ greeting rang out as powerfully as a military command, and Loik nodded in response.
“Was that training?”
“Yes, isn't today the day the gates open? I moved the training to the morning to avoid the commotion,” Demich replied with a boisterous attitude, typical for a knight. “Are you heading straight to the conference room? Let’s go together.”
“Very well.”
Loik gave a brief reply and was about to move on when Demich sniffled and wiped his nose.
“Wait a moment. You look a bit different today, Commander?”