Chapter 6: Aenya Tobalts
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 6: Aenya Tobalts
Aside from the scholar on his deathbed, Bertio was the vassal who had served my father the longest. And yet, here he was, standing before me, the rightful lord's proxy, deferring to my absent stepmother.
This whole scene suggested that while I was busy acting like a scoundrel, Sophia had steadily expanded her influence, even getting the vassals under her thumb.
Perhaps I was only one step away from being confined or exiled.
‘I was foolish.’
It was only then that I realized I was isolated in the heart of enemy territory.
Fortunately, I still had a chance. Years had passed since she remarried, yet Sophia had failed to produce a son.
I was the rightful lord's proxy, the legitimate heir.
That meant the justification was on my side.
“Bring the tailor.”
“Well, uh… Ah! It's late, so the tailor is probably asleep.”
Bertio's eyes darted around as he wiped the sweat from his brow and made an excuse.
“Then just wake her up.”
“She's such a deep sleeper, she wouldn't notice if someone carried her off on their back.”
“You even know her sleeping habits? Did you sleep with her?”
“W-what are you talking about…!”
“Enough with the jokes.”
I pressured Bertio with my silence. More and more cold sweat beaded on his forehead. Unable to take it any longer, he squeezed his eyes shut and cried out.
“My lady will have my hide for this!”
“It is my right as the lord's proxy to decide how the family's assets are used.”
That was a fact no one could deny.
“Ugh. I want it on record that I opposed this.”
“I get it. Now hurry up and bring the tailor.”
Bertio retreated with a groan.
“You sent for me?”
The tailor who arrived a moment later was visibly tense. A late-night summons from the infamous scoundrel was surely an ominous sign.
“You're going to make a dress for my favorite prostitute. While you're at it, make a few sets of everyday clothes as well. I'm giving her the dress tomorrow, so start immediately. I want the other clothes within two weeks.”
The tailor took the fabric, unable to hide her troubled expression.
“But… my lady has already claimed this fabric.”
It was Eastern silk, the same kind Sophia had worn today.
“So?”
The tailor's face soured. I had no doubt she was cursing me internally. Even if it was my order, she would be the one punished when Sophia found out. She was a shrimp caught between whales.
“Well, a dress that doesn't fit is worse than no gift at all. Perhaps it would be best to get the measurements first and then we can discuss this further?”
“And you assume I don't know her measurements?”
“Because this is the first time you've ever called me to make a gift of clothing. Am I wrong?”
“…True enough. I'm a reasonable man.”
“Huuu…”
She must have been incredibly tense to let out such a deep sigh in front of me. The tailor quickly realized her mistake and bowed her head, but her demeanor was noticeably more relaxed.
But you should always hear a person out.
“However, there's no need to worry. As it happens, the whore I favored has a similar build to Aenya. As the family's personal tailor, you must have made clothes for Aenya before, right? Use those measurements as a reference.”
“But my lord! Their figures won't be identical…”
“Can't she have it altered to fit? Enough talk. Don't tell me you're refusing?”
“Of course not. I'll work all night if I have to.”
Any servant who dared to refuse me to my face would have either been crippled by my hand or long since fled. In the end, the tailor took the fabric.
It seemed she hadn't given up completely, though. Even with her preparations finished, she hesitated, not starting her work. She was already desperately short on time if she was to finish the dress overnight.
“Is there… anything else you require?”
She looked up at me with an awkward smile. When I met her gaze with a blank expression, her smile slowly faded, her face on the verge of tears.
The shrimp caught between whales always has it rough. The tailor, who had been trying to stall for time, could hold out no longer and finally began her work.
“Allen. What is the meaning of this outrageous behavior?”
My stepmother, Sophia, didn't appear until long after the tailor had begun her work.
She was a mature beauty in her mid-twenties, with tanned skin and long, dark brown hair.
Her curvaceous figure—trim where it should be trim and full where it should be full—suggested that Baron Rasino's matchmaking wasn't the only reason my father had remarried.
Honestly, my own tastes leaned more toward Sophia's type than slender girls like Mari or Aenya.
“I don't know what you mean.”
“Are you pretending not to know? I heard everything from Bertio! How dare you degrade the fabric I chose into a gift for a common prostitute! What is this madness? This is unthinkable, unacceptable!”
So that's why the tailor came alone. Bertio must have run to tell Sophia.
I had expected as much.
“We can just get more fabric, can't we?”
“What? Are you truly unaware that Eastern silk is difficult to acquire even if you have the money? On top of that, the family's finances are hitting rock bottom because of the prolonged war!”
Then how did she manage to acquire such expensive silk in the first place? Her words were full of contradictions. This must be what they call a double standard.
“We can just squeeze the serfs for money.”
“The serfs aren't a bottomless well! They've already reached their limit, taxed under every pretext imaginable!”
“Even so, what can be done? The dress is already half-finished.”
The difference between Sophia's and Aenya's figures was significant. There was no way to turn the half-finished dress back into a bolt of cloth. And Sophia would never deign to wear something that had been forcefully altered.
“Y-you…!”
Sophia's face flushed red and purple like a volcano on the verge of eruption. Her clenched fists trembled. When I gave her a smirk, she finally exploded.
“When my husband returns, I will tell him every single thing that happened here today!”
Sophia shouted, glaring daggers at me and the wary tailor before turning on her heel. The air turned frigid.
It was the first time I'd directed my scoundrel act at Sophia, but it seemed I hadn't aroused any suspicion.
My performance must have been quite convincing. Though, I'm not sure you could even call it a performance, since I was just acting as I always had.
“Oh, gods. I'm a dead woman. I'm dead…”
I placed a hand on the shoulder of the tailor, who looked like she was about to burst into tears.
“Since things have come to this, why don't we just use up the rest of the fabric?”
“Just kill me instead!”
“Come on, it was a joke. Just a joke.”
Shooting me a resentful glare, the tailor resumed her work. The die was cast. Now that she was on Sophia's bad side, getting on mine as well would mean a life worse than death.
I turned from her and looked around the storeroom. Just as Sophia had said, our finances seemed to be in a sorry state; the room was mostly empty and dusty.
It was to be expected. A considerable amount of money must have been spent on war supplies, Sophia's luxuries, and my own debauchery.
The old me would have left it at that, but…
“Hmm. Still, this is a bit too severe, isn't it?”
“Pardon? Ah!”
The tailor looked up, clutching her finger with a pained expression. A single drop of blood beaded where the needle had pricked her.
“It's nothing.”
“Ah, yes…”
Leaving the tailor to her work, I fell into thought. There was a limit to the debauchery and extravagance one could indulge in at a small, frontier manor. This wasn't the modern world, where you could buy expensive goods with a single click.
At most, my antics involved sleeping with prostitutes and giving them expensive gifts. And even then, this was the frontier; there was nothing so outrageously expensive that it would break the bank.
And yet, every time I checked the storerooms, our wealth had visibly dwindled. War is a money pit, I knew, but this was excessive. So much so that I suspected our funds were leaking out from somewhere.
The next morning.
“Is this really me…?”
In the brilliant yellow dress, Aenya looked like a blooming flower. With her beauty, once hidden by shabby clothes, now on full display, even I—who knew she would one day be called a beauty capable of toppling nations—couldn't help but be astonished.
“They say clothes make the woman.”
“It's because the model is good, you know?”
Aenya shot me a sharp glare. I placed a hand on her shoulder, leaned in, and breathed a warm puff of air into her delicate ear.
“Don't forget your promise.”
Aenya shivered and looked up at me.
“What on earth are you going to ask for?”
“It wouldn't be fun if you knew beforehand.”
I could guarantee it. Aenya would soon come to regret this.
“Hmph, I know what you're thinking. You're going to ask me to put in a good word for you with Father, right? You've caused all kinds of trouble while he's been away, so you must be getting scared of the repercussions.”
“We'll see.”
Why would I worry about a father who was never coming back? I deliberately gave her a sinister smile, and Aenya flinched, taking a step back.
“W-what is it?”
“Let's continue this conversation after you get back from the party.”
“Ah, the party…!”
“And don't forget the excuse: I changed my mind about the dress, and you begged me for it.”
It was a rather flimsy excuse, but the whims of a scoundrel are often hard to comprehend. Since this was the first time I'd done something like this, it wouldn't raise any alarms.
“Got it!”
Aenya rushed out of the room. She was undoubtedly going to tell Sophia she'd gotten a dress and ask for permission to go to the party.
But things rarely go as planned.
It was obvious how Sophia would react upon seeing Aenya, looking even more beautiful in a dress made from the very fabric I'd taken from her.
Aenya is mine.
I never had any intention of throwing Aenya into a party teeming with lecherous men. Of course, she would be heartbroken, but that would only make her more dependent on me.
Right. This wasn't love. It was a desire for possession.
My prediction soon became reality.
“Ahh…”
With her back to the mansion gate, Aenya collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. The carriage that should have been waiting for her was gone. Sophia had abandoned her and left alone.
“She promised… She promised…!”
“It's foolish to trust the words of someone unreliable.”
“Are you mocking me right now!?”
Aenya shot to her feet and pounded my chest with her small fists. But only for a moment. Soon, she buried her face in my chest, and I felt it grow damp with her tears.
“Aenya.”
I took her by the chin and lifted her head. Her tear-streaked face was pitiful, yet it stirred a sadistic part of me.
“First, let's go get something to eat.”
“Sob. What's gotten into you? Didn't you always say the sight of me made you sick and you couldn't eat with me?”
“So, is that a no?”
“Who said I don't want to?”
A good meal was one of the few ways to relieve stress in this world. And since Aenya had skipped breakfast, worried that her stomach might bulge, her answer was a foregone conclusion.
A meal was set before Aenya first. It was a piece of dark brown rye bread, sour-smelling and so hard it was difficult to tear apart. She put it in her mouth, letting her saliva soften it before eating. She did it with practiced ease.
My meal was different. It was a feast of fine, light-colored bread, vegetable stew, and even roasted meat.
Gulp.
Aenya's throat bobbed as she swallowed, her eyes glued to my feast. Despite the blatant discrimination, she didn't complain, busy stealing glances at my plate.
There was a reason she was as thin as a twig. If not for the dress, one might have mistaken her for a serf's daughter.
Sophia's mistreatment extended not just to clothes, but to food as well. It was a fact I hadn't known, since I never shared a table with her. No, that's not right. I pretended not to know.
“Here, eat.”
I pushed my plate over to Aenya. The attending servants gasped.
“…Don't tell me you poisoned it?”
Aenya was the most surprised of all. Her suspicious, narrowed eyes softened like melting snow the moment she took a bite.
“Is it good?”
“W-well. It's… edible.”
Despite her words, her hands moved faster and faster, grabbing at the food. I was worried she might not even be chewing properly.
Pfft—
Seeing her, the servants let out snickers.
“Even a beggar who's starved for three days wouldn't eat like that.”
“Tell me about it. Look at her, spilling food everywhere. I couldn't eat that filthily even if someone paid me to.”
They must have thought they were whispering, but I heard every word. It was true; Aenya lacked any semblance of dignity as she wolfed down her food. But that didn't give servants the right to mock their master's daughter.
Aenya must have heard them, but she seemed completely unfazed, focusing on her meal with a look of pure bliss.
Perhaps she'd endured such unfair treatment for so long that she'd come to see it as normal. She had been gaslighted.
And I was partly responsible.
It was because of my tacit approval that they felt bold enough to mock their master's daughter, even in my presence.
“You should eat, too.”
Aenya pushed the plate back toward me, her eyes filled with reluctance.
Betrayal stings most when it comes from someone you thought was on your side. To Aenya, I must have been more hateful than her abusive stepmother, yet here she was, still thinking of me.
Suddenly, another memory from my past life surfaced. The Aenya from that life had realized her beauty was a weapon and quickly rose to power, but she never took revenge on me for selling her out.
On the contrary…
“You disrespectful brat. Call me brother.”
This impossibly kind little lamb needed protection. I would pull her into my arms, the safest place for her, and never let her go.
“What are you talking about? If you don't want it, fine.”
Aenya snatched the plate back. At this rate, it wouldn't be long before she grew into my ideal woman, just like the Aenya Tobalts from the game.
I left Aenya to her meal and rose from my seat. I looked down imperiously at the two attending servants.
Before making my move in earnest, I had to warn those who would act as Sophia's eyes and ears. And as it happened, I had the perfect subjects to make an example of. My justification was solid.
With Sophia gone for the time being, now was the perfect opportunity.
“Summon all the servants.”
It was time for the servants who had forgotten their place and joined in on tormenting Aenya to pay the price.
The servants, oblivious to the dangerous thoughts running through my head, simply tilted their heads in confusion.
It seemed Aenya wasn't the only one who had grown so accustomed to the status quo that she considered it normal. I wondered just how long that would last.
“Right now!”