Royal Capital Barga (13)
The cake was ordinary enough, but the black tea was genuinely delicious. Between the lingering habits of my past life and the fact that I'd been a commoner, tea had always been something distant from me. Even so, I could tell this was good.
"It's delicious."
Was it because we were in the capital? The tea was excellent — better than anything I'd tasted elsewhere.
"The leaves seem to be of fine quality."
The young master sipped his tea with genuine leisure. I, uncultured as I was, had been gulping mine down. The difference was night and day.
I kept glancing over at him, and eventually he noticed.
"Is something the matter?"
I stared at him. He was just sitting there, drinking tea and nothing else.
Just tea…
I looked down at my cake. Only half remained — or, looked at another way, half was still left. Well, it wasn't as though I felt bad about it. There had been rather a lot to begin with.
So it wasn't a waste at all. Besides, he was the one who'd paid for everything. The least he could do was try a bite…
I cut a generous piece from the remaining half and speared it with my fork.
"Here."
The young master blinked at the fork I held out.
"Pardon?"
"Eat it."
"What?!"
Startled, he tried desperately to refuse.
"My arm is going to fall off."
Holding the fork out this long was starting to get on my nerves.
"I-I'm really quite fine, thank you."
"Take it."
And so began a silent battle of wills — me determined to feed him cake, him equally determined to refuse. We locked eyes and dug in our heels, but the young master crumbled almost immediately.
"A-all right."
Hesitantly, he leaned toward the fork and opened his mouth. Then, trembling, he tried to take the cake using only his teeth, careful not to let his lips touch the fork. I couldn't understand why he was making something so simple so difficult.
Still shaking, he got the cake into his mouth and chewed with tiny, careful motions.
"Why are you making such a production out of it?"
I snorted and cut myself another piece. One clean bite, lips closed, fork pulled free — that was how you ate cake properly.
The young master watched me and shook his head.
What was his problem, honestly…
He took a sip of tea and let out a long sigh.
"Is it to your liking?"
"It's all right, I suppose."
I couldn't really speak to the flavor. What I liked was the leisure of it all.
"Now tell me about the other demi-humans."
"Demi-humans… You'd do well not to use that word in front of others."
"Why not?"
Weren't demi-humans just demi-humans?
"The term 'demi-human' is a slur — a way of dismissing those races as less than people and discriminating against them."
Oh… was that how it worked?
"I take it you didn't know. You must be careful. Call a beastfolk a demi-human and they'll pick a fight on the spot. Say it to a dwarf and they'll try to put a hammer through your skull."
I was stunned. It carried that much venom?
"Simply use their proper race names."
"I-I see."
I'd have to be careful about that. Not that I knew how often I'd actually meet people of other races…
But I had to think about my position. Someday my identity as the Saintess might come to light, and careless remarks from the past could become a problem. Of course, I had absolutely no intention of appearing in any official capacity. Still, preparing for the unlikely wasn't a bad idea…
"At any rate, beyond the beastfolk, the other races would be the elves and the dwarves."
There was also a fairy race — tiny beings no taller than forty centimeters — but they rarely showed themselves in the mortal world.
"Even if you lived a full lifetime, you'd likely never encounter any race outside of elves, dwarves, and beastfolk."
Those three, he explained, were the ones numerous and powerful enough to form real factions of their own. The elves had claimed the Great Forest in the south — a woodland so vast it defied reason — and made a show of their strength from within it.
They hadn't forged friendly ties with other races, but neither had they made enemies. Mutual non-interference was the rule they lived by.
"I see…"
"Next are the dwarves, who are quite close with humanity."
They had lived alongside humans for a very long time, excelling both as blacksmiths and as warriors, and the relationship had always been a good one. The dwarves hadn't founded a kingdom of their own, but a great many of them lived in the Holy Kingdom.
"Most dwarves are devotees of the god Vulcanus, so no one dares trouble them."
The exceptional arms and craftwork they produced were among the Holy Kingdom's chief exports. Of course, dwarves lived outside the Holy Kingdom as well.
"I've heard there are tribes living in the volcanic lands to the east."
Those dwarves, too, were primarily followers of Vulcanus, and they maintained friendly relations with the surrounding nations.
"Dwarves tend to be open-hearted sorts. They're easy to get along with once you meet them."
So long as you didn't insult their work, he said, they were generous and free-spirited.
"Dwarves and elves…"
Beings I'd only ever known from books and the knowledge of a past life — and they actually existed…
"I'd like to see them at least once."
I wanted a closer look at the beastfolk, too, but there was no easy way to arrange it. Once we'd finished our snacks, we rose from our seats. The tea had been wonderful, and the café itself was thoroughly charming.
"I'll have to come back."
I'd be in the capital for at least another month, and I had money enough. I should bring my sister and Sister Mary sometime.
From the café, we headed for the Adventurer's Guild.
"Is there any real need to go?"
"I'm just curious, that's all."
As the young master said, there probably wouldn't be much to see even if we went. But I was an adventurer myself, and the interest was hard to suppress.
How different would the capital's Adventurer's Guild be from the ones in small territories and cities?
Full of anticipation, I set off toward it.
"Do we really have to take this road?"
It wasn't a main thoroughfare — it was an alley. Three- and four-story buildings pressed in on either side, leaving barely enough room for three people to stand abreast. The narrowness kept the light out, and the passage was dim and gloomy.
"This is a shortcut. Taking the main road means going the long way around."
I nearly objected, then held my tongue. Personally, I'd have preferred the main road even if it took longer — but he must have had his reasons.
Besides, this wasn't the kind of place I could come alone. Experiencing it while I had the young master to protect me didn't seem like such a bad idea.
"Are there a lot of streets like this in the capital?"
"Quite a few. Though most people avoid them."
Blind spots for the city watch, he explained — places no one used unless they had the skill to handle whatever might be waiting. Hearing that, I wondered even more why we'd come this way. As we wound through the alleys, we occasionally passed wider open pockets. In those spaces I saw people who looked like vagrants, and children who were clearly starving.
The young master didn't spare them a glance. I, honestly, couldn't look away. I thought about giving them a few coins — but he stopped me. The moment my hand moved toward my purse, he caught my wrist and shook his head.
He didn't explain why.
Then we emerged from the alleys into a broad plaza.
"You needn't worry now."
"Why did you stop me earlier?"
Now that we had room to breathe, I finally asked.
"You mean the charity?"
"Yes. Those children — they looked so pitiful."
It wasn't as though I had money to spare… but seeing children collapsed from hunger had stirred something in me. Even a single silver coin might have filled an empty stomach…
"Even if you'd given them money, someone else would have taken it from them almost immediately."
"That's—!"
I had no answer. Those spaces hadn't held only children.
"And even if the money did fill their bellies for a time, it wouldn't solve the underlying problem."
They might last a few days — and then everything would be exactly the same…
"Still…"
"It's pitiable, but there's nothing to be done."
As much as it rankled, he wasn't wrong. Even the capital was just a place where people lived…
No — precisely because it was the capital, it might be worse.
"It's a shame…"
I set the regret aside and continued on toward our destination: the Adventurer's Guild.
The capital's guild was far larger than I'd expected.
"This whole open square and all the surrounding buildings belong to the Adventurer's Guild?"
"That's right."
It was large enough to have been allotted an entire district.
"A great many merchants pass through, after all."
And with the merchants came the adventurers hired to guard them — so the scale had grown accordingly.
"Wow…"
The broad courtyard was packed with people. Adventurers wearing every kind of weapon, clients scrutinizing them with an eye toward hiring, and guild staff mediating between the two…
With so many faces in one place, a few stood out. Beastfolk and dwarves, right there among them.
"There are dwarves and beastfolk here too."
"The beastfolk are likely escorts for merchants of their own kind."
As for the dwarves — they tended to be either blacksmiths or warriors, nothing in between, so these were almost certainly the warrior sort.
"It's fascinating, though."
Curious about what kinds of requests the capital offered, I stepped inside and examined the quest boards.
Being the capital, the boards were sorted into multiple categories, making it easy to find what you wanted. I started with the flower of adventuring work: subjugation requests.
"Hmm…"
There honestly weren't many. If the area around the capital were crawling with subjugation jobs, you'd have to start questioning the state of the kingdom itself.
"Most of them are for distant regions."
According to the young master, many required five or six days of travel.
"Why come all the way to the capital to post a request?"
"Outside the larger territories, adventurers are scarce. And the ones based in the royal capital tend to be more skilled."
The cost was roughly the same either way, so clients preferred to hire capital adventurers whose ability was proven.
"That makes sense…"
Past the subjugation board, simpler requests appeared. Commissions to acquire goods, searches for missing pets or people. These seemed less popular — some of the posting dates were fairly old.
"These don't seem very popular."
"The rewards aren't guaranteed."
Ah — spend the time searching and find nothing, and you walk away empty-handed.
"Put that way, I can see why people pass them over."
"From what I understand, most adventurers simply keep the information in mind and resolve them if they happen to stumble across the answer while doing something else."
So you filed it away and handled it opportunistically. Next came the odd jobs — day labor at construction sites, help-wanted notices from restaurants, even sewer cleaning.
Adventurers did take menial work from time to time… but the sheer variety was surprising. Back when I'd been active, people only hired adventurers for urgent jobs.
It was probably only possible because so many people lived in the capital.
"A labor exchange?"
"There are a great many people here. Plenty who live day to day on whatever they can earn."
There was nothing wrong with that — and an adventurer who'd come to the capital on escort duty might as well fill spare hours with work.
The largest crowd, of course, had gathered around the escort commissions.
"No need to bother with that section."
I wasn't looking for work, so I decided to just keep wandering.
As I looked around, I spotted people who appeared to be nobles.
"Do nobles come to places like this?"
"Well… yes."
They couldn't freely raise private armies, so hiring adventurers as escorts made sense. And there were always tedious chores they preferred to dump on someone else…
The young master steered us away from anyone who looked aristocratic. Being a noble himself, he was clearly worried someone might recognize him.