The House of Aepheros (5)

Having finished his meeting with the Marquis of Aepheros, Karsein rode alongside Harnie, making his way back toward Rusmayer.

Before long, a status window popped up before his eyes.

Only then did Karsein realize that a sub episode he hadn't even known existed had just been cleared.

To the game, the Marquis of Aepheros was nothing more than an NPC one happened to cross paths with while progressing through an episode. And yet here he was, having sought the man out first and raised his intimacy this way.

What was more, this wasn't just any intimacy gain.

The fact that the notification bore his true name—Pollux Tutulum, not merely the Marquis of Aepheros—made it clear that the effect would carry real weight.

As lord of Rusmayer, Karsein absolutely needed a trade deal with the Marquis of Aepheros if he was to revive his territory.

But dealing with them was anything but smooth.

The House of Aepheros fostered a fiercely insular culture, and to earn a deal with them, one had to pass a single test.

"I'll decide on the trade after I've crossed blades with you. Come then—prove yourself."

As that in-game line made plain, the test was a duel.

The reasoning went that by crossing swords, one could discern a man's sincerity and character, which is why the blade came first.

But the Marquis would never approve the deal unless you cleared a fixed benchmark.

In other words, to trade with the House of Aepheros, you first had to prove yourself with strength.

Fail to clear that benchmark, and lines like these followed.

"So you came at us with dirty intentions, did you? Throw him out!"

"Hmph. Anyone carrying that sorry excuse for a sword is obvious as day. Get lost before I cut you down."

"We don't waste words on the weak!"

The lines themselves carried no deeper meaning.

They were simply the tribe's conviction—a refusal to ever deal with a weakened Karsein—manifesting as a Dead Flag.

Which meant his stats were insufficient.

He had pulled this episode forward, so he'd needed to come here and fill those stats first.

And now a connection has been made. With the Marquis of Aepheros himself—Pollux Tutulum.

When the time came to negotiate with him as lord of Rusmayer, things would likely go considerably more smoothly.

And with that thought—

Karsein decided he owed a debt of thanks to the person who had created this opportunity.

"Thank you, Harnie."

"Wh-what?! Where did that come from...?!"

"Just something. There's something I'm grateful to you for."

It's thanks to you that I got to meet the Marquis of Aepheros.

More than reason enough to be thankful.

At that, Harnie thumped him squarely in the chest.

"Wh-wh-wh-what are you saying out of nowhere?!"

Watching her scold him to keep his hands on the reins, Karsein decided that trying to keep talking to her was a lost cause for now.

"...Well, there was no need to fall like that, you know."

"Don't talk to me."

"What did I even do wrong...?"

"I said don't talk to me!"

She was usually such an easy person to read—but at times like these, he couldn't figure her out at all.

He resolved to keep his mouth firmly shut before a spike left its mark on his back.

Then, a small mishap occurred.

Since the Gelgeton Viscount's villa sat along the nobles' quarter, it was quite a long ride to reach Rusmayer Territory.

Worse, the long road was blocked by the looming presence of Wagloo Mountain, and little by little, the sun began to set.

"Mmm..."

Harnie began nodding off, her head bobbing.

Then—

Unable to hold out against sleep any longer, her head tipped toward him.

Her purple hair brushed faintly against his skin. A warm breath drifted up from a head that weighed almost nothing at all, and it was something he knew he would never quite get used to.

We've passed nearly all the dangerous stretches, so there shouldn't be any real problem...

But it felt wrong to disturb the sleep of someone resting so peacefully.

Karsein deliberately slowed the horse, little by little.

So that the woman who, until moments ago, had kept herself pointedly at arm's length from him could sleep a little more comfortably.

Warm. Cozy.

She wasn't lying in a bed anywhere, yet sleep came slipping over her in this strange, floating sensation.

Only then did Harnie realize she had dozed off yet again, and her eyes snapped open.

"Ah!"

The moment she lifted ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her head and opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Karsein, smirking down at her.

"Awake, are you?"

She blinked—once, twice—hoping what she was seeing was a dream.

But no. It was not a dream.

The man before her was Karsein.

She was the one who had fallen asleep on horseback.

And the fact that she had borrowed his chest to do it remained unchanged.

Harnie buried her face in both hands.

H-how did this happen AGAIN...?!

Once was bad enough—but twice?

She was mortified. Mortified enough to lose her mind.

She never let the servants see her in anything less than perfect composure, yet this man had now witnessed it twice already.

Once, she might have brushed off—these things happen. But a second time was another matter entirely.

"There's still a ways to go before we reach Rusmayer. You could sleep a little longer."

At those words, the hair on her head stood straight on end.

"F-forget it."

"Pardon?"

"Forget it! What just happened! Or do you need a forgettance fee or something?!"

Karsein asked back, puzzled.

"Why on earth...? I could just write it off as my fiancée being tired from work and falling asleep."

Besides, no one else had seen it, so it didn't matter. And even if someone had, she'd merely shown the affection of a couple—hardly anything strange, he said.

Not a single word of it was wrong. On the surface, by cold logic.

And so, oddly enough, Harnie found herself being talked around.

"Or what... do you still take me for some lecher who's after your body?"

"What? N-no, it's not that..."

"Then there's no need to dwell on it. It's not as if your weight would be much, leaning on me like that."

Cool air seeped back into the face that had flared with heat.

And yet, a faint warmth lingered still.

"...It wasn't uncomfortable for you? Having me lean on you?"

"Not at all. Actually, it was better this way—having you come into my arms is less risky than when you keep your distance."

"It... was?"

That, she hadn't known.

She felt inexplicably guilty toward Karsein now.

By the time she tried to offer some reply, they had already arrived at Rusmayer.

"We're here. Dismount."

Having climbed down first, Karsein extended his hand with practiced ease.

And she dismounted flawlessly, without so much as a wrinkle in her dress.

That, too, was an etiquette of the nobility—one he had been meaning to teach her someday, when the occasion arose... but it was already perfectly rehearsed.

"I never taught you this, you know?"

"I practiced it a few times."

"...You practiced?"

"Yes."

Practicing meant he had lifted another woman onto a horse—and helped her back down.

Right. There's nothing actually wrong with that.

It was noble etiquette; of course he might have learned it.

And yet, her feelings were strange.

Which was why the questions kept spilling out of her.

"Who did you practice with? Your sisters?"

"No. Do you think I'm insane enough to put them on a horse?"

If it had been family, she could have accepted it.

In the Bagrand household too, he was the only man, so escorting his older sisters or younger sister would have been perfectly natural.

But—

The moment it was another woman, her questions began stretching strangely longer.

"Then who? Who did you practice with?"

"Uh... just a maid."

"A maid? That maid—Camilla, was it?"

"Yes. Well. That's right."

Harnie's eyes narrowed.

"Hmm. Well, it's practically the same as riding alongside a noblewoman, isn't it? House Deol was a noble family once, after all."

"I mean, that's true, but... ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she's a maid now anyway... no, more importantly, what's the matter with you? Did I do something wrong...?"

"No. I'm not reproaching you—I'm complimenting you. You learned it perfectly well without me teaching you, so a compliment is in order."

"I-is that so? Uh... but is something perhaps... upsetting you...?"

"Me? What could possibly be upsetting me?"

"..."

Karsein couldn't quite bring himself to answer Harnie honestly.

Her mood had clearly soured.

But he didn't know why. Which left him no choice but to answer as though offering an excuse.

"The... the only time I ever rode with Camilla was when we went out to buy things. If you're worried some doubt might be cast on our engagement, there's really no need."

He added that he hardly saw Camilla as a woman, and that to Camilla, he was nothing more than her one and only master.

"I-I don't care about any of that?! When you say it like that, it just sounds like you're worried your fiancée might suspect you of cheating!"

"Uh... isn't it, though?"

"It is NOT! Have you already forgotten? Our relationship exists on a contract and nothing more, so why would I worry about that?!"

Harnie shoved him by the back, pushing him in the direction of Rusmayer.

"Forget this whole conversation, and hurry up and show me around your territory."

"Yes. Well... fine."

"And I keep telling you! Forget what happened earlier. And what Pollux said too!"

"Uh... yes. Understood."

As Karsein made his way toward Rusmayer, he tilted his head again and again.

Watching him from the corner of her eye, Harnie murmured to herself.

"...Why did I do that?"

Really. Why had she done that?

Thinking back on it now, it had been a strange thing to do.

The moment they set foot in Rusmayer, countless eyes turned toward the two of them.

With their lord Karsein visiting, it was only natural that attention would gather.

But today the scrutiny was even heavier than usual. The reason lay elsewhere.

"Everyone's staring..."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Yes. Straight at you, I'm afraid."

She had more or less anticipated something like this would happen.

Rusmayer had suffered persecution at the hands of the neighboring territories—of the nobility.

These people had steeled themselves ready to ruin a party hall once; how kindly could they possibly look upon a noble?

If she only recalled the reception Karsein had received when he first set foot in this place, the reaction toward her was hardly surprising.

"Let me step forward and ease their unease. If you'll excuse me a moment—"

Just as Karsein lowered his voice to tell Harnie this—

a little girl came sprinting up to them.

"Big brother! Who's this pretty big sister? Don't tell me she's your sweetheart?!"

"...Huh?"

"Huh...?"

The moment Karsein and Harnie let out those graceless sounds, the other children came swarming over in a crowd.

"Is Lord Karsein dating this big sister?"

"Silly! You're supposed to say 'going steady,' not 'dating'!"

"Look, see? Don't you see the rings? They're a matching pair, aren't they."

"Yay, hooray! The two of them are going steady!"

Unlike Karsein's unease, the children were cheering with fervent enthusiasm—enthusiasm aimed in a rather peculiar direction.

"K-kids!"

"You mustn't! You can't do that to Lord Karsein!"

Before long, the adults came rushing over in horror, calling the children back.

The children who had swarmed in all at once were dragged away, heads bowed, by parents who apologized over and over.

"Well. It seems there was no need for that worry after all."

"Pardon?"

When Karsein asked what that cryptic remark meant, Barak happened to approach the dumbfounded man and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bowed his head.

"Forgive us, my lord. The fault lies with the children, so I beg you, be generous and overlook it."

"No, it's hardly a grave offense... but more importantly, why are the children acting like that? I thought everyone here hated nobles?"

"If the lady is someone you brought here yourself, my lord, then that changes matters entirely, does it not?"

Only then did Karsein catch on.

Oh. So that's why?

Looking now, the eyes of the territory's people weren't nearly so fierce.

Even though he'd brought a stranger—no, a noble—into their midst.

"This is a territory where absolute trust in its lord has taken root. A rare sight indeed."

"Heh heh. Well, there was good reason for it."

"There certainly was. He's a remarkable man, isn't he? Lord Karsein."

"Hey."

Karsein shot them a warning look, as if to say that was quite enough.

Things were being said around him again that only he wasn't in on.

Since neither of them seemed likely to explain, he decided it was better to simply steer things back to business.

"More importantly, Barak—how did the task I assigned fare?"

"Ah, yes. Regarding that..."

Barak answered in a voice drained of strength.

"We could carve through it, if we set our minds to it. But with our sculpting techniques alone, there is no way we can bore through that mountain within the allotted time."

"Why not?"

"Cost, my lord. We know precisely where and how the mountain must be broken through, but that mountain is solid stone. Without proper equipment, the work is simply impossible."

Money to procure that equipment.

That was the crux of the problem.

Most mountains, when surveyed, yielded spoils of some kind. Whether ore lay buried within, or gems, or rare medicinal herbs, one way or another, the funds could be secured.

But Rusmayer could not do this.

Wagloo Mountain held nothing but stone, so there was no way to raise the money—and in a territory this isolated, their stock of daily necessities would run dry in a mere three weeks at best.

Even if they collected tolls from travelers, the neighboring territories had thrown the market prices into wild upheaval in their drive to crush Rusmayer. It would mean nothing.

The tighter the timeline grew, the harder things became—for Rusmayer.

"Wagloo Mountain held nothing after all. There was nothing but trees and stone. Venture inside, and a few demonic beasts were the sum of it. Ah, of course—"

Barak turned his head toward a spot where piles of stone had been heaped up, and went on.

"Just as you instructed, my lord, we didn't discard the stones, in case they proved useful. We had no idea what they might be for, so we gathered them all in one place..."

At that, Karsein broke into a smile and answered.

"That's your spoil. The most valuable treasure buried in this entire mountain."

"Pardon...? But this stone... I heard that when it was appraised, they said it was worthless rock, fit for nothing."

"Right. Which is exactly what makes it so valuable."

"Is that what you meant? I see now."

Harnie chuckled along with them.

"Of course. Stone matters in all sorts of ways, you see? Wood and earth alone have their limits. And right at this moment, there's a place that needs stone more than anywhere else."

"Where is that? Where should we sell it?!"

Smiling, Harnie met Karsein's eyes.

You're the one who's supposed to say this.

"To raise a fortress wall that will hold firm... you need sturdy aggregate, wouldn't you say?"

In that instant, Barak—like Archimedes crying out his Eureka—broke away at a run toward the people of the territory.