The Merchant's Son (1)
-Clatter, clatter.
Where am I? And, come to think of it, who am I?
-Sway, sway.
I turned my gaze out the window and caught sight of a road I hadn't seen in a very long time. Not a neatly paved one, either, but a rough dirt road that jolted and bounced us about without mercy.
Across from me, Noah grinned and spoke up.
"Mom and Dad are going to love this. Well, at least Mom will. It's the first time in four years you've ever come home, after all."
"...You certainly have a comfortable way of talking to me."
But we weren't the only two in this carriage.
"A carriage journey — it's the first time since I was itinerant as a child."
"Ooh..."
"Journeys on foot-dragging land are tedious beyond bearing. Hyaaaam..."
Yes — Erzena, Elaine, and Menassil had all come along.
"Haaaah..."
How on earth had it come to this?
It was simple, really.
[You should all come too, unnies!]
A single remark Noah had tossed out offhandedly.
Just one careless sentence — but it had set fire to the hearts of all three of them. Having been cooped up between the safe house and the Immigration Office for so long, they'd all been quietly chafing with restlessness deep down.
[Un...nie?]
[Ooh?]
[Ho-ho.]
...Or maybe they'd simply latched onto one particular word, but anyway.
And what's more, it had even been officially approved.
- Taking leave to visit your family? Good idea. Your hometown's near the royal castle anyway.
Even Melanie had readily agreed.
My family home sat on the outskirts of the capital — not too far from the castle, but not too close, either, at a comfortable middle distance. From the Intelligence Department's perspective, keeping me under watch near the royal castle was far easier to manage than having me vacation at the remote southern border, so they had no reason to refuse.
Except for one, single problem.
- What? You're taking ALL of them — the Saintess included — to your house?
- ...Are you joking right now? You're bringing three women home with you? Three women who are VVVVVIPs?
It was the fact that these three women were coming along.
'I was planning to go alone, mind you.'
Leaving a safe house triple-wrapped in border guard protection, marquis-level security, and Intelligence Department agents — not to mention the protective enchantments laid over it — was a genuinely risky move.
But there had been reasons I simply couldn't refuse.
- If you collapse again, who do you suppose could treat you? I'm coming whether you like it or not.
- [Royal decree. Refusal. Catastrophe.]
- Did you not swear to protect me and Kirba? Bound by fate, we cannot be parted.
They had pushed so stubbornly that I'd had no choice in the matter.
- And you're telling me to do WHAT? Add agents along a safe carriage route AND run a five-day situational lockdown!?!?!?
'It had been quite a while since I'd last heard Melanie scream in an actual, living voice.'
Through no particular malice, I had dumped a mountain of work on her plate.
But what could I do? The Minister herself had ordered the department to pour every resource into my vacation. As an organ under the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Intelligence Department simply had to follow orders.
And at last...
-Screeeech.
After six long hours, the carriage finally rolled to a stop.
At the same moment, Noah's shout rang out.
"We're here! It's home!"
I had arrived at my hometown.
****
The Kell family home was a two-story house on the outskirts of the capital. A large front courtyard and a back garden, sitting solitary in a sparsely populated district. Facing people day in and day out as merchants, my parents had deliberately chosen a quiet spot where they could savor peace and stillness the moment they stepped through their own door.
But something was off.
There were quite a lot of footprints stamped in front of the entrance.
'...We had visitors?'
Knowing Father's temperament, he rarely received guests.
As I turned my head in puzzlement, a moss-flecked nameplate caught my eye.
Tilion Kell
A name so familiar it barely registered — and yet, one that stirred a faint awkwardness in me all the same. As I stood staring at the plate for a moment, Noah nudged me.
"Oppa. You knock."
"What? Why?"
"Why do you think? It's a surprise. Mom's going to love it."
"Hmm..."
Well, fair enough. They couldn't possibly imagine I was coming. There was no reason to refuse.
-Knock, knock, knock.
I rapped lightly on the door.
A moment later, a gruff voice sounded from within.
"Who is it."
"...It's me. Nathan Kell."
In less than two seconds, the door swung open.
-Clack. Creeeak...
And there, framed in the iron doorway, stood a middle-aged man with the same black eyes as mine.
I forced my frozen mouth open.
"...Father."
"...Nathan."
Tilion Kell. Head of the Kell Merchant Company, its former master — and, at the same time, the man who was my father. He looked down at me with a stony expression.
Seven seconds of silence.
"State your business—"
"Dear? Who is it?"
The very instant Father began to speak in that cold tone, a woman's voice drifted out from somewhere deeper in the house. A voice I knew far too well.
Noah bellowed toward the interior.
"Mom! Oppa's here!"
"What!?"
The answer came back instantly.
"NATHAN!!!!!"
-THUD!
A middle-aged woman burst out, shoving firmly past Father's dignified, upright shoulders. Instead of the jacket she'd worn in her youth while crisscrossing the world, she appeared draped in a light shawl.
"Goodness, you really did come. This isn't a dream, is it? Or perhaps I'm drunk? Hmm?"
She reached out without ceremony, seized both my cheeks, and turned my head this way and that. It was exactly what Noah had done to me just the day before.
My face being manhandled, I managed an awkward greeting.
"H-hello, Mother. It's been a long time."
Miriam Kell. My mother — the woman who had once crossed the world at Father's side. Her amber eyes brimming, she kept stroking my face without pause.
"No wonder the Intelligence Department came and went an hour ago — so THIS was the reason!"
"I'm sorry, the what?"
"They barged in out of nowhere and demanded I sign some kind of secrecy oath. I thought, what on earth has Noah gotten into this time... and all along it was for such a wonderful reason!"
Ah. Melanie had already covered her tracks, then.
"Welcome home. Truly, welcome home."
At that heartfelt greeting, the first I'd heard in ages, something in my chest loosened without my meaning it to.
Just then, Mother's eyes abruptly sharpened, and she whipped her head around.
"Dear. Aren't you going to greet him? Your son has returned after four whole years?"
Stung by the pointed remark, Father reluctantly opened his mouth.
"...Why did you come."
"DEAR!!!"
"...Welcome."
"Would you like to sleep in the barn tonight?"
"Good to have you home, son."
She still had him on a leash, I see.
Miriam's glare slowly slid from her husband to the space behind me.
"Oh my. You've brought guests, too."
Straight to the three women.
"Ah, these are—"
"Never mind. This is no conversation for the doorstep. Come inside first — we'll hear the details after."
****
The house had changed surprisingly little. Even the color of the carpet in the sitting room was exactly as I remembered it — not a single thing different.
Over the course of about ten minutes, I explained to my tea-serving parents, in brief outline, why I had come home on leave. Father, deliberately seated at a distance from me, and Mother, seated across, listened to everything in silence before tilting their heads.
"An immigration officer can... nearly die? And because of that you're granted leave? I hardly know whether to call it cruel or fortunate."
"Well, it's..."
Actually, a dragon hunter tried to kill Menassil and steal her egg, so I miraculously used the Dragon Tongue to stop them, the backlash necrotized forty-four percent of my organs, I was half-dead until Erzena's holy power barely pulled me back, I was unconscious for three days, and THEN I got leave and came here.
...was a bit of a mouthful, so I compressed it.
"It happens now and then. The world has a remarkable surplus of lunatics."
"...I see."
A short sigh.
But they probably understood. Both of them had crisscrossed the whole world in their day — they knew exactly how many nightmares this world bred.
As I chuckled wryly and sipped my tea, Mother turned her gaze to Erzena.
"So. What exactly is your relationship with these lovely young ladies?"
Straight to the heart of the matter, no warning at all.
"Well..."
How was I supposed to explain this?
While I hesitated, Erzena, seated beside me, worked up her courage and spoke.
"Um... Mother...?"
-Twitch.
In an instant, Mother's eyes narrowed to slits.
"Aha."
She'd sized up the entire situation in one beat. Watching her transform into a hawk before my eyes, I panicked.
"Mother, it's not what you—"
"Hush now. Quiet, dear. I'm appraising this lovely young lady at the moment."
Miriam's voice shifted gears into something silk-smooth and sweet.
"Oh my, where are my manners. I've been so overcome at seeing my son after so long that I forgot to even introduce myself."
You were doing plenty of introductions a second ago, eye contact included.
Oblivious or indifferent, she continued with a soft smile.
"I am Miriam Kell, wife of the Kell Merchant Company. This here is Tilion Kell, and you've no doubt already met our Noah."
"Ah... yes."
Erzena, seated closest to her, stammered out a greeting, clearly having expected none of this. Then she leaned subtly toward me and whispered.
"Nathan. Your mother seems to... not recognize us?"
"So I noticed."
This, too, was a reaction I hadn't anticipated. Normally, she should have reacted the way Noah once had — 'The Saintess? The Princess!?'
'But come to think of it, it makes sense.'
Both of my parents had retired from the merchant trade and now lived quietly. Erzena had only been Saintess for a decade or so — they likely knew her predecessor as the Saintess. And Elaine had secluded herself for a full fifteen years, so only a handful of people knew her face.
An astonishing coincidence.
Receiving such treatment for the first time in her life, Erzena wore a dazed expression.
That was when it happened.
"Ah, yes. So you are Nathan's dam. Well met. You are younger than I expected — I am surprised."
An utterly bizarre remark, dropped out of nowhere, that made every ear in the room doubt itself. Noah, Erzena, Elaine, and I all flinched and froze.
And I knew instantly whose voice it was.
How?
-Pat, pat, pat.
Because a certain deranged crimson dragon had risen from her seat and was stroking my mother's head.
"Hiiik!"
"M-Miss Menassil!?"
"Ooooh!?"
Noah, Erzena, and Elaine nearly convulsed. Even Father — who, as a merchant, had seen every variety of humanity the world could offer — went rigid, mouth hanging wide open.
"Still, it seems Nathan inherited little of his dam's traits. Brown hair and amber eyes."
Having barely recovered my senses, I managed to speak.
"Miss Menassil. In human society, one does not pat the head of one's superiors."
A polite way of saying: take your hand off my mother right now.
But Menassil simply smiled and replied,
"Oh, is that so? Then there is no problem. Am I not the highest-ranking one present in this place?"
"..."
Refuted on the merits.
Which was, annoyingly, technically true. Menassil was 1,291 years old — hardly comparable to a mother who had only just entered her fifties.
But the picture was wrong, damn it. You are a flawlessly gorgeous young woman by appearance, and my mother is a middle-aged lady whose hair has started going gray.
-Pat, pat, pat.
In the silence, the soft sound of head-stroking echoed faintly. Unable to endure the surreal wrongness of it, I spoke in a low voice.
"...Could you please just lower your hand?"
"I merely touched her briefly out of admiration. The dam who bore you — I ought to offer her my deep gratitude. You are worthy of praise, Miriam."
Oh no. Now she's on a first-name basis. In real time, my mother's expression was darkening by the second.
Please. Please.
"Oppa."
Just then, Noah called to me quietly. Then she mouthed the words, shaping each one:
'Introduce. Them. Now.'
Fine — a signal to lay all the cards on the table. I'd be in their debt for the next five days anyway; there was no point hiding anything further. And she'd already signed the secrecy oath, after all.
"Ahem!"
With a dry cough, I forcibly pulled Menassil's hand down and spoke in a level voice.
"Mother. Father. Allow me to make formal introductions."
"...Yes. Now I truly am curious what manner of guests these are. That lady especially."
Your words have teeth in them, Mother.
Before that cold fury could reignite fully, I hurriedly turned my gaze to Erzena in front of me.
"Erzena. Would you come to my side for a moment?"
"Yes? Oh — yes!"
A faint blush on her cheeks, she hurried to stand beside me.
"This is Erzena Selaphe. She is, um — not 'this officer,' but... someone currently living together with me..."
I paused.
'Living together with me... what do I even call her?'
A friend? A woman? A person?
Come to think of it — this was me introducing a cohabitant. In front of my mother. Heat rushed to my face all at once.
"Sh-she is someone I live with."
So I went with the least incriminating phrasing available.
"...Tch."
For some reason, Erzena stuck her lip out in a pout. Watching her fixedly, Mother slowly extended her hand.
"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Selaphe. I hope you'll be comfortable staying in this house."
"Th-thank you... Lady Kell."
"Oh my, such lovely manners. Unlike some people."
And there, I added the finishing touch.
"Erzena is the former Saintess of the Holy Church — and currently a temporary asylum seeker of the Crossline Kingdom."
-Stagger.
Mother, who had been reaching out with elegant, gentle grace to take her hand, momentarily lost her balance.
"Son. Wh-what did you just say?"
But this was only the beginning.
Next, I called over the green-eyed woman who had been silently nibbling cookies.
"Elaine."
"Ooo."
Shuffling and hesitant, Elaine rose from her seat and came over. Even my parents couldn't possibly fail to recognize this name.
"E-Elaine?"
"Hold on. Those green eyes..."
Apparently overwhelmed by the sudden torrent of stares, she slunk around behind my back.
"This is Elaine Castor. Princess of the Crossline Kingdom."
I hammered in the wedge.
"Nathan. You just called the P-P-P-P princess by her name?"
"...Yes."
Otherwise she'd have sulked at me.
But no one was allowed to finish being surprised yet. The biggest hurdle still remained.
"And, lastly... Miss Menassil?"
"I shall introduce myself."
Menassil rose briskly and stood at my side.
"Well met, young dam and sire who birthed Nathan Kell."
"Dam... and sire...?"
Ah, yes. That sinking feeling — the unmistakable omen of disaster, already settling in.
"I am the noble lady Menassil Terenas."
One does not, as a rule, introduce oneself with the words 'noble lady.'
"Master of the volcanoes, and the last of all dragons. Presently eating, sleeping, and dwelling alongside Central Officer Nathan Kell."
Truly the worst, worst, absolute worst self-introduction in history.
"Hold on, Oppa!? You never said anything about a dragon! And not just any dragon — THE dragon of the west!?"
While I was enjoying the sight of my parents spiraling into panic upon meeting them for the first time, Noah suddenly shrieked, her eyes going wide with horror.
"You said she was just a noble lady, you insane bastard!"
I hadn't been able to tell her then.
But Menassil's rampage was not yet finished.
"And this is my child. Kirba."
She carefully revealed the egg she had been cradling in her tail.
Every gaze in the room swung toward Kirba.
"A... child?"
"Then don't tell me that egg is..."
And then every gaze swung toward me.
Menassil and I spoke at the same time.
"It is not."
"It is."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Hmm?"
Which one of you is spouting what nonsense?
"Excuse me, how is Kirba MY child!?"
"Is it not obvious? You named the child, fed it your blood, and swore an oath of protection. It may as well be your own."
In that instant, the look in Father's eyes as he stared at me changed.
"...You gave the child its name?"
From the disowned son who left, to a child who had returned home having properly built a family of his own. At this rate, I was starting to feel like a boy who'd come back to show off his grandchild.
I waved my hands around like a madman.
"Th-that's not it at all!"
For the first time, Miriam Kell stared blankly at her son. Shock, disbelief — and an unmistakable glint of 'my son, gone four years, has come home a lecher,' all wrapped into one look.
"Nathan... could it be that you..."
She let the sentence trail off, but there was a mountain of meaning packed into that silence.
The only thing I could offer in response was this:
"...It's... quite complicated."
Meaning: it cannot be summarized in one line. Each of their stories is a very, very long one.
"Then why would ladies like these... in a place like this... with our son...?"
Mother's dazed murmur spoke for everyone present.
"Mom. I felt exactly the same at first."
Noah nodded along, radiating pure understanding.
That was when it happened.
"Nathan."
Father stepped forward with a grave expression. He placed a hand on my shoulder and said,
"...Well done."
Out of nowhere, he delivered the first compliment he had given me in twenty-three years — here, of all places.
My patience finally snapped, and I shrieked.
"It's NOT like that! I'm just here on vacation, dammit!!"
Why, oh why, was I standing in my family home issuing this kind of denial?
The Immigration Regulations Manual said nothing about this.