Spreading Wings (3)
"So you... you're really Edwin...?"
After a long, long journey through the Demon Realm, I had finally returned to the familiar warmth of Maidheaden. I went to greet my father the moment I arrived, but he could not bring himself to believe I was Edwin.
Only after hours of verification did he finally accept that it was me. He seemed thoroughly shaken by how I had transformed into a completely different person in a matter of days.
I explained that I had eaten some unfamiliar food that hadn't agreed with me and been terribly ill for days, which was how I'd ended up like this — but honestly, who would believe that?
And if Father ever found out that my Mana Sclerosis had vanished as well, no explanation in the world would suffice. I'd have to keep that a secret for the time being...
"...Next time, I hope you'll tell me the truth."
But Father just clapped me on the shoulder and said he'd hear the full story later. After that, he never brought the subject up again.
If I ever had children of my own, would I be able to let it rest like that? He was a remarkable man, in every sense.
The real problem, however, didn't come from Father. It erupted from an entirely different direction.
"No... that's not Brother... waaah... Brother... where are you... waaaaah..."
The moment Adele heard I'd returned, she came running at full tilt. Then she saw me, froze stock-still on the spot, and burst into tears.
Unlike Father, who could at least be reasoned with, there was no such option with Adele. It took more than half a day to soothe her. Only after hearing my earnest explanation — that I'd fallen ill during my travels and lost all this weight — did she finally stop crying.
Once she'd collected herself, Adele kept poking and poking at my stomach, clearly quite displeased that the soft, squishy belly she'd been so fond of had completely vanished.
"So, which trading company did you say you represent?"
After a night's rest at the estate, I arranged a meeting between Father and the merchant I'd brought from Easthall. The demon acting as the company's representative introduced himself as Hunt. He had neat yellow-brown hair and horn-rimmed glasses, presenting the appearance of an earnest, trustworthy young man.
"We are Patton & Harding, based in Carrington in the north. Have you heard of us, by any chance?"
"Patton & Harding... I'm afraid my knowledge is limited, and I haven't heard of your company's reputation. If possible, might I ask for a more detailed introduction?"
Hunt offered an introduction of himself and his company, but Father didn't seem inclined to trust him easily. The Empire was vast, but any trading company of significant size had a name that was known, and the ones capable of absorbing the south's surplus grain were limited to a certain caliber.
And now some outfit no one had ever heard of was offering to buy the entire stock. From Father's perspective, suspicion was only natural. How was Hunt going to talk his way out of this? He'd been so confident on the way here, telling me to just leave it all to him.
"Ah, my apologies. It seems my explanation was rather lacking. Our proprietor is the fifth daughter of Howland Berrett, the late founder of the Berrett Trading Company. You've heard of Berrett, I presume? A few years ago, after Howland's passing, there was a dispute among his children over the shares. After a lengthy lawsuit, our proprietor received her portion and was able to establish her own company."
"Ah, yes, that Berrett lawsuit was quite famous. So that's who it was — the daughter who became a company head. Do forgive my rudeness."
Until a few years ago, Berrett had been one of the three most prominent trading companies in the north. And the feud that erupted among the heirs after the founder's death had been such a famous scandal that it was gossiped about in merchant circles for quite some time. And Hunt's cover story was that his employer was one of those children?
I had no way of knowing the truth, but Hunt had clearly prepared for this scenario with meticulous care. He fielded several more pointed questions without so much as a stumble, and only then did Father fully let go of his suspicions.
"...And so, while exploring various avenues of business diversification, we were introduced to your son through academy connections. The south has had such an abundant harvest that wheat is practically rotting in the stores, but the north is in the exact opposite situation. Even the great houses of repute are watching their reserves dwindle to dangerous levels. Our proprietor saw that very opportunity..."
Hunt's explanation flowed as smoothly as water, and every point of it was reasonable enough to make one nod along. Father sat in thought for a long while after hearing him out, but in the end, he decided to proceed with the deal with Patton & Harding.
I suspected the decisive factor was Hunt's offer to pay the entire sum in advance — in gold and mana stones, all at once. Even I could see how visibly Father stirred when Hunt said that.
"Edwin, well done... truly well done...! Thanks to you, our house has been spared a tremendous loss! That's my son — that's my boy!"
Father had maintained a carefully stern expression the entire time Hunt was present, but the moment the merchant left the drawing room, he broke into a broad grin and clapped me on the shoulder. Last time, he'd insisted that a surplus of wheat wasn't anything to make a fuss over. He'd said that, but it seemed he'd been quite troubled about it internally.
If Father ever found out that the destination of this grain was the Demon Realm... I wondered what kind of face he'd make then. It wasn't an imagination I particularly wanted to entertain. This would likely be one of those secrets I'd have to carry to my grave.
Word of my transformed appearance spread through the household servants in an instant, then to the knight order, the Mage Order, and even the people of Maidheaden. And as rumours tend to go, the bulk of them were complete nonsense: that I was a hidden second son who'd been raised in secret, that the Count had adopted a relative's child, that the Count, fed up with his son's antics, had thrown him into the sea — and that I'd somehow crawled back out alive.
"Wait, that's really Young Master? This is actually insane. Did you sell your soul to a demon or something? If not, what the hell did you offer as a sacrifice to— mmph! Mmph!!!"
"Laurel!! Stop talking nonsense! Haha, Young Master, I apologize. She had a bit of wine with lunch today — it seems she hasn't quite sobered up yet. The wine was rather strong today, I'll grant you that! Come on, Laurel. Over here. You're done for the day. Let's get you inside. Young Master, we'll take our leave here. Please pay no mind to what Laurel said. You look far healthier and more vigorous than before! Laurel, I said over here!!"
"Mmph!!"
Laurel had come after hearing the rumours, taken one look at me, and started spouting nonsense — only to be immediately subdued and dragged off by Rus, who was horrified at the word "demon."
Ever since the fall of the Great Demons, anything even remotely related to demons had been treated as strictly taboo, and the Church considered even speaking the word in casual conversation to be an act of grave blasphemy. I supposed that, from Laurel's perspective, the shock had been that great.
And it seemed she wasn't the only one thinking along those lines, because priests from the Church, acting on a tip, actually came to see me. Father was, of course, furious. It was only after I passed the priests' examination, and word spread that they'd grovelled for Father's forgiveness before being allowed to leave, that the wild rumours finally began to die down.
The people's attention then shifted to a heated debate over a new question: just what on earth did a person have to eat to change that much?
Even though I'd drunk an Elixir, the methods I'd used had been so extreme that my body was thoroughly depleted. In the end, I was all but forced into a stretch of convalescence and rehabilitation. I trained with Laurel and Rus every day, and my wasted frame grew steadily more solid with each passing day.
At the same time, I devoted considerable effort to honing my proficiency with the Eye of Rahesia. And just as I'd expected, I confirmed that the more I used it, the greater its range of abilities and duration became. On top of that — though I couldn't be certain — I'd been getting a persistent feeling lately that the awakening of Spirit Eyes, the Eye's final stage, wasn't far off. At this rate, it would probably come not long after I returned to the academy.
I spent a great deal of time on this training, but the thing I devoted the most effort to was spending time with Adele in Father's place, since he was so busy. She'd been a little awkward around my new appearance at first, but Adele soon adapted and treated me as affectionately as she always had.
Adele and I had a wonderful time wandering the markets of the main castle and the lower town beyond the walls, and those who saw us all agreed that it wasn't just my looks that had changed — my personality seemed to have done a complete turnaround as well.
Time flew by as we enjoyed ourselves, and before I knew it, barely ten days remained until my academy suspension was lifted. And that meant it was time to leave Maidheaden and start moving once more.
"Hic... sniff... I hate you... Brother, I hate you... waaah..."
"Now, now, Adele. Your brother has a long journey ahead of him. Are you just going to cry? Come, dry those tears and see him off properly."
On the morning of my departure from Maidheaden, I stood waiting for the carriage, receiving the farewells of my family and the household staff. Before me stood Adele, tears dripping steadily from her eyes, and Father, coaxing and soothing her. The servants watched the scene with fond expressions, desperately holding back their laughter.
When I'd told Adele I had to leave again, she couldn't accept it, and she'd locked herself in her room and sulked for a full three days. I'd wondered if I wouldn't even see her on the day I left, but even Adele couldn't go that far. She'd shuffled out of her room and taken her place in the farewell line — and then, the moment she saw my face, she'd burst into tears. Which brought us to the present.
"Adele... anyone watching would think I was leaving forever. I'll come home again once the term is over. And if you miss me that much, you can always write. Study your letters hard and send me a letter. If you do that for me, I think I'll be able to work even harder at the academy. Come, Adele. Promise me you'll write?"
"Hic... I promise... sniff... waaah..."
When I held out my pinky, Adele hesitated for a moment, then hooked her tiny finger around mine. She had started much later than other young ladies her age, but she was catching up on the education expected of a noble. According to her tutor, she was remarkably bright and picked things up very quickly, so she'd surely master her letters before long. Mentioning the letters seemed to calm her a little; Adele's sobbing began to subside, bit by bit.
"Adele is terribly attached to you. Good heavens. I'd hoped for that, but I never imagined liking you too much could become a problem..."
Father shook his head, as if he'd finally been able to catch his breath.
"Heh. In just a few more years, we won't be seeing this side of her much. Girls grow up especially fast, after all. I intend to enjoy being her brother as much as I can before then. Ah, the carriage is here. Well then, Father, I'll be heading back. Hudson, Roberta — take good care of Father and Adele."
With that, I climbed into the carriage at once. I looked back and saw Adele waving in my direction, Father standing beside her. Watching them recede into the distance, I finally felt it — I was returning to the story's main stage.
I leaned back against the swaying seat of the carriage and wished, from the bottom of my heart.
Please... let me dodge even a few of the thorns waiting in my path.