Edelmarion IX: Nelloa Isquente
Yet another day was drawing to a close. What did I even do today? My memories of the past few days were completely jumbled. When every single day was a carbon copy of the last, it was impossible to keep track of time. It had to be because of this dreadful capital air. I shook my head to clear the useless thoughts, and only then did the details of my day finally trickle back. Right. Today, I had spent my hours cozying up to the capital's nobility and tying various business ventures to my merchant coalition. I had to offer exceptionally generous terms. That way, if I ever got caught up in some unsavory business or met an unfortunate end, their own pockets would suffer enough for them to care.
Compared to the influence of Marquis Eloran, my efforts were still nothing more than a light drizzle. But in this world, the rule was simple: even a drizzle would eventually soak you to the bone if you stood in it long enough. This was how the power of the nobility worked. It was a web of mutual interests, so tangled that no one could tell where it began or ended. A cartel bound by blood, regional ties, and every useless connection imaginable—that was the true identity of the aristocracy. In truth, they were no different from a fiercely territorial merchant guild. The only real distinction was that the nobles carried themselves with a bit more arrogance.
A bitter smile escaped my lips. Was this the kind of crowd my younger self had yearned to mingle with? Good grief. I needed to change my train of thought before I spiraled any deeper into gloom. There was nothing more pathetic than a guy like me wallowing in self-pity. Fortunately, Sir Mallon was nearby. I threw my arms out and let out a massive stretch.
"Hup! Well, we managed to survive another productive day. Let's head back, Sir Mallon. Thank you for enduring all those pointless conversations by my side."
"You are the one who labored, Baron. What could an old man like me possibly have done to help?"
"I dragged you all the way here when you should be enjoying a peaceful retirement back in our territory. This clearly calls for an amendment to our contract. Of course, I, Nelloa Isquente, am not one to skimp on proper compensation."
"Haha. It only gladdens my heart that you place such trust in these old bones. I have not yet laid down my sword, so I am still a knight. I have merely done my duty."
Sir Mallon offered a warm, fatherly smile. Just looking at him made me feel as though my soul were being healed. I truly loved my territory, and I loved my people. The things and people around me were so incredibly precious that I sometimes didn't know what to do with myself. Take this moment, for instance. Sir Mallon could have been enjoying a comfortable, quiet retirement back in the barony, yet he had readily agreed to accompany me at a single word. It was because there was something between us that transcended mere profit and loss. It was that intangible bond—what we called jeong, or human affection.
I loved people who possessed that warmth. Human relationships required affection to be genuine. To interact without it, calculating only profit and loss, made us no different from mere tools. Even beasts that could not speak possessed feelings, yet humans, blessed with intellect, spent their lives hoarding shiny pebbles. Well, I hoarded gold too, of course. But it was a matter of priorities. I gathered gold because I needed it; protecting my people and cultivating my territory didn't come free, after all.
"Anyway, people in the capital lack any human warmth. All they ever talk about is dry, rigid nonsense. 'His Majesty said this,' or 'Some grand lord decreed that.' I couldn't care less about their political squabbles."
"Politics always seems to be a convoluted affair, no matter the era."
"It doesn't have to be, but they make it that way. They seek 'noble rights' and 'imperial dignity' in the strangest places. Mark my words, Sir Mallon—one day, those people will end up waging wars over how many days they should wear mourning clothes."
To my eyes, the simple wooden cottages built by my own hands and those of my tenants were dozens of times more beautiful than the lavish estates of the capital's nobility. Jackson's fresh fruit tasted far sweeter and more delicious than any gourmet delicacy prepared with exorbitantly expensive ingredients. And my carriage was much grander than those drawn by four horses. Actually, now that I thought about it, that four-horse carriage I saw earlier was pretty sleek. I should order one to be built when we return to our territory. If our local carpenters got their hands on the design, they would undoubtedly craft something far superior.
"By the way, we've run terribly late. It'll be pitch-black by the time we make it back to the capital. The Saintess will be waiting."
"Shall I tell the coachman to hasten the pace?"
"No, safety first. Racing down a dark road at night is a recipe for disaster. Besides, I bought a gift for her, so she won't be too angry. The Saintess is surprisingly weak to presents—especially sweet treats."
The image of the silver-haired Saintess drifted through my mind. While she was breathtakingly beautiful, she was also a rather difficult person for me to handle. But that couldn't be helped. The Saintess of Hibras was incredibly unapproachable whenever Sir Rajen wasn't around. It was only recently that we had started trading light banter; in the past, a single word from her felt like a shard of ice piercing through you. To put it accurately, she had been a person on edge in every possible way.
The key to unlocking her good graces was Sir Rajen. If I subtly engineered opportunities for her to spend time with him, or praised him in public, her mood would visibly brighten. My desire to see them together as soon as possible stemmed from a similar motive. If their relationship blossomed, wouldn't the Saintess soften up a bit? A marriage would be the absolute best-case scenario. Only then would I finally be able to breathe easy. I'm only human, after all.
"Though, considering how Sir Rajen behaves, that might take quite a while..."
"Pardon? What do you mean by that?"
"Just talking to myself. I heard recently that the Saintess has a real weakness for cake, so I'm relieved to have this little bribe on hand."
Those two were like a welcome rain after a long drought in my life. I was incredibly grateful that they had become my allies. If not for them, I would have remained completely oblivious to Marquis Eloran's schemes. I would have fallen victim to his conspiracies and died a quiet, forgotten death. It was a scenario I didn't even want to imagine.
Sir Rajen respected me, even if he viewed me as a bit of an eccentric. As for the Saintess... well, rather than her being my ally, it felt more like I was hers. Her understanding of high society—which far surpassed my own despite my noble birth—her broad perspective, and her sharp, sometimes ruthlessly precise judgment proved she was no ordinary person. Though she seemed to be keeping her head down for some reason at the moment, the day would surely come when she would spread her wings and soar.
Well, what does it matter? All's well that ends well.
Though she appeared strict at first glance, the Saintess possessed a deep capacity for thoughtful consideration. Her seemingly rigid contract terms were designed to ensure neither of us remained indebted to the other, and even then, she had anticipated details I hadn't even considered. It was a quality entirely absent in the greed-ridden nobility. Perhaps that was her own way of showing affection. And I, Nelloa Isquente—a man of modest stature—was someone who could happily watch my allies leap forward. When I saw someone far ahead of me, awe always preceded any desire to surpass them. The thought of serving as a stepping stone for their great journey made my heart flutter with excitement. My own vessel might be too small to stand beside them, but I could at least follow in their wake. For me, that was more than enough.
"Speaking of which, Sir Mallon, I noticed Sophia has grown quite a bit since I last saw her. Shouldn't you buy her a gift while we're in the capital? Affection deepens the more often it is reaffirmed, and a gift is the easiest tool for that."
"I have actually been agonizing over that very thing. I haven't the slightest clue what to buy for a girl her age. I want to bring back something that will make her truly happy."
"You should have consulted me sooner! There's no need to think of anything too expensive or extravagant. It's best to buy something simple that she can use often."
That way, she will be reminded of you constantly. Just like this necklace I never take off.
"Still, since we are in the capital, a bracelet or a brooch would be a safe bet. If you'd like, I can help you pick one out. We'll surely have some time before we head back to our territory."
"If you would do that, I would be deeply grateful."
"Think nothing of it. This sort of thing is my pleasure."
Sophia was like a granddaughter to Sir Mallon. Though they shared no blood, such trivial matters meant nothing to them. Sir Mallon wore a gentle smile, his mind clearly occupied with deep thought. Is this what parental worry feels like? That warm, tender affection was precisely the kind of value I wanted to protect at all costs.
But it seemed that peace was about to be shattered. The smoothly gliding carriage came to an abrupt, violent halt. A sudden commotion erupted among the guards who had accompanied us from our territory. A cold dread washed over me. There wasn't a single person among the escort whose face and name I didn't know.
"What's going on?"
"I will go assess the situation. Please wait here, Baron."
"...Very well."
Sir Mallon returned almost immediately. His voice was urgent, and a sharp longsword was already drawn in his hand.
"Baron, we are under ambush! Our current forces will not be enough to hold them off. You must flee immediately!"
Blood rushed to my head. My teeth ground together in sheer fury.