Indigo-Blue Remedy (2)

“...”

The rest of the memorial replayed the scene of the original Karsein trying to prove the Rohea seed's power, however faint, even through a rotten seed.

Clutching at straws, Karsein had no choice but to gamble on that rotten seed. As he dug deeper into the nature of Rohea seeds, he discovered that even the corrupted ones retained their efficacy — only diminished to a sliver of what they were meant to be, their potency far below the original.

Even so, he refused to give up.

Rohea seeds worked by being sown broadly across the soil; that was how they produced results. Which meant, he reasoned, that even the faint power of a rotten seed would be enough if it could be applied within a single pot — to one crop alone.

It was a clever judgment.

If he could form a hypothesis and demonstrate the effect on a small pot rather than a field of seeds, he could dispel the misunderstandings on both sides at once...

But I already knew the fate of that pot.

The pot memorial. The one Arina had shattered in the main hall — it remained unrestored, broken still, even by the time I found it.

It hadn't been enough. That one rotten seed alone.

“Ha. Shit.”

Claire would have screamed at me for losing my mind if she'd heard, but right now, nothing would come out of me but a hollow laugh and a curse.

Karsein had taken on this treacherous task and struggled desperately for a way through it.

And it had been a perfect breakthrough. Regain Shatren's trust while ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠simultaneously clearing the false accusations against House Lilpeten through trade — and he would have gained a powerful ally in the process.

But Claire had slammed that breakthrough shut.

That's what the memorial was telling me, isn't it?

Once again, the ugly memories began to stir.

The memory of being caught with a wound from one of my part-time jobs by my second sister — and having the job taken from me — had never faded.

It was a truly trivial wound, yet it started with a lecture about how I shouldn't go around getting beaten up, then she blabbed the whole thing to the entire family, and in the end the second sister started shadowing me at dismissal time every day.

—Ha. Look at that. Not a single one of them comes near when I'm standing right here. You see that? If anyone gives you trouble, you tell me. You blockhead.

But did she know?

That the delinquents tormented you all the harder where no one could see.

That they had learned ways to hurt you without ever leaving a mark.

My school life never changed at all.

And the biggest problem was that my working hours vanished completely afterward.

Even when I claimed I needed to study, my second sister clung to me like a leech, never leaving me a moment to myself.

She didn't know, but it was that job that let me eat a proper meal for the first time.

Because of my youngest sister constantly skimming from my allowance, I'd been scolded for coming to school without the required supplies — the job meant I didn't have to be anymore.

Only then could I stop using those battered, falling-apart school supplies.

And that small, modest happiness had been snatched away in an instant.

For a long while afterward, I couldn't work, so no money piled up. She kept shadowing me for ages after that, watching my every move, and so began another stretch of hellish days.

It was my third sister who doggedly tormented me, but ironically, it was entirely because of the second that my plan to escape the house kept getting delayed.

Hadn't Karsein's plan been ruined in exactly the same way?

He knew there was no use telling his family, so he'd been trying to build a way through on his own.

And it had all rotted away because of Claire. Just like that seed.

It didn't seem all that long since the chill had crept over me.

Now my blood ran cold through my entire body once more.

The fury boiling in my head cooled to ice.

Right. This was no time to react emotionally.

I turned my attention back to the episode that was still playing out before me.

“Fine. I'll go back and grant whatever it is they want.”

Plan change.

The plan to go to Shatren was scrapped entirely.

Three days had passed since Karsein arrived at Rusmayer.

After finding Karsein collapsed, Claire had lit a fire in the hearth and, without delay, sent for someone from the ducal house.

Shayden, the chief physician.

She'd summoned him all the way here and asked him to look after Karsein.

Once Shayden arrived, everything that needed handling was handled without a hitch.

The one thing that remained unresolved was the simple, glaring fact that Karsein had contracted Dipeshan Syndrome.

She'd known the disease — one that appeared only in the western region — had taken hold of Karsein. But contracting it meant Karsein had to have gone to the West.

And the timing lined up far too neatly.

The date the trade ledger arrived and the moment the second-stage symptoms of Karsein's Dipeshan Syndrome manifested did not diverge by more than a hair.

After hearing that from Karsein's own lips, she had swept through Rusmayer with a strange sense of déjà vu.

Just as Karsein had said — Rusmayer had changed, and changed utterly.

Rusmayer had been the territory every noble in the empire shunned and cast aside, complaining it would do nothing but demand higher taxes.

Anyone would have expected a place no better than a slum.

Yet any eye could see that the expectation was dead wrong.

Rural it might be, but the people here lived in plenty that couldn't even be compared to the slums.

The food was abundant, smiles spread across the faces of the residents, and laughter rang through the village streets.

Just from Karsein's support alone?

No. Absolutely not.

Just look at the food — the sheer volume could never have been covered by Karsein's money alone.

Their clothing, too, was not the soot-stained, threadbare rags of commoners, but decent, whole garments, and the streets were clean.

Even when problems arose, they handled them with a systematic efficiency that showed they could manage on their own, and while it was hard to say where the money came from, they were conducting brisk trade with passing merchants.

No — never, not in a lifetime, could this territory have transformed this quickly on Karsein's money alone.

The cause was—

The passage... that great tunnel.

Every time merchants passed through that corridor carved like a cavern, they were paying money.

No — not just merchants. Nobles came too, admiring the artistry of the carvings within as they sought out other passages to explore.

The tolls alone looked steep enough to fill a mountain.

There seemed to be more than enough for Karsein's share, and plenty left over for the people of Rusmayer to live comfortably besides.

The sightseeing revenue was piling up considerably as well.

The carvings shifting with the light, the angle, the hour of the day — images that changed from moment to moment were more than enough to draw the nobility's fascination.

And their trading partner was said to be the Marquisate of Aepheros.

She'd heard word recently that those who fought the demonic beasts were running short of building aggregate. But that rumor had died off just days ago. If they'd sold the stone quarried from this tunnel as aggregate, it made perfect sense. And that would have brought a substantial sum into their hands.

All of it fell into Claire's view at once.

The conclusion came quickly.

The reason this territory — once nothing but a lonely mountain on Wagloo — had undergone so vast a transformation...

was her newly appointed brother, the lord of this land.

The only answer was Karsein.

“...”

Lips pressed into a firm line, Claire turned her steps back toward Karsein's house.

Right. Credit where credit's due. Whether through study or through learning from others, the fact is he's become someone capable of ruling a territory.

But if she dragged him back to the ducal house, he would almost certainly be torn to shreds by Arina.

To Arina — who knew nothing of what had happened at the tea party — a trade ledger had simply flown in out of nowhere.

Whatever mood he'd fouled, the fact remained that he'd stretched an overnight stay far past the point where the whole household's spirits had soured.

That, as lord of Rusmayer, he had made deals with nobles without leave.

That he had carried on his trade without so much as asking permission.

And beyond those, there was a mountain of things he'd answer for.

Weighing it all together, it was hard to see Karsein dodging Arina's fury.

“Well, what can I do? I'll just have to talk my way through it.”

If Karsein had run into Arina here, he'd have been hauled straight back to the ducal house for a proper dressing-down.

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

She'd meant to prevent that — to talk him around gently and send him home — but... having seen how far he'd grown Rusmayer, she couldn't bring herself to tell him to just come back.

So she would simply have to make the excuses well.

So that Karsein didn't bear the full brunt of Arina's wrath alone.

With that resolve, Claire entered Karsein's house.

But in the bedroom, Karsein had already finished changing his clothes.

Claire seized his arm.

“Karsein, Shayden said you need to stay in bed! Where do you think you're going in that state?”

“You only came here to drag me back anyway, didn't you? I could tell from the start you were planning to nag me about staying out too long or whatever.”

“Hey. Forget the overnight thing — I kept it from Arina on purpose so you could do as you liked. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I can smooth it over with a few words.”

The trade would come up, of course, but there she'd only have to present Rusmayer's results.

He'd studied hard and produced results like these — going without prior approval was a trivial matter next to that.

So she told him it was better to rest a while longer.

But Karsein stubbornly folded his blanket.

“No need.”

“Hey!”

Claire's temper snapped.

“Why on earth would you march yourself back just to get scolded like an idiot? Leave it to me, rest up, and come back later! Why do you have to be so damn inflexible?!”

Psshh. Claire blew her bangs up with a sharp exhale.

A sure sign of the stress she was under.

“Do you have any idea what happens if Arina catches you? The ban on leaving the estate's lifted, sure — but the trade with the nobles isn't. The second she gets her hands on you, you're getting chewed out, guaranteed! And knowing that, you're deliberately walking in there to be scolded?!”

Why would anyone do something so senseless?

In situations like this, you ride along and dodge the blame a little. That was simply how it was done.

Claire was no different. When she'd done wrong, she'd had her mother or Arina smoothing things over for her.

And when Flora messed up, it was Claire who pulled the strings to cover for her.

But Karsein showed not the slightest sign of ever doing such a thing.

“I told you. There's no need.”

No need?

It made her want to scream.

It had been the same with their mother, too. When he bought the Rusmayer territory, all he had to do was explain his reasons — instead he simply stood there and took the scolding, and it drove her half-mad to watch.

And now here he was again, leading with only his mistakes, marching off to be scolded?

Fury boiled up inside her before she could stop it.

“Fuck it, fine! Go back like an idiot and get smacked down by Arina and taken apart by Mother — maybe that'll knock some sense into you! Go suffer a little. Lock yourself in your room, do nothing, whatever the hell you want — and then get put in your place for it! You utter moron!”

Hot-headed as ever, the vicious words spilled out of her before she could take them back.

And yet.

Unmoved by all the heat Claire poured out, Karsein calmly stepped out of the room.

Which meant his resolve to return to the ducal residence had never wavered at all.

“Argh, seriously!”

Left alone, Claire threw a full-blown tantrum.

“Ha, shit. Mother, maybe — but Arina will absolutely destroy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him...!”

Arina was not one to let things slide.

And Karsein was so hopelessly closed off that this time, too, he'd likely mention only the trade in the western region without breathing a single word about Rusmayer.

All he had to do was ask, and she would help him with anything.

So why did he never speak a word of the things he'd done right, and let his mistakes swell up until he was punished for them?

“I just can't understand—”

It was in the middle of that outburst that it suddenly came back to her — the day Karsein had returned from the West.

Not a single part of him whole.

He had slipped into the house unseen, as if no one had caught him.

And she had been the one to find him.

As the realization struck her, Claire slowly turned her head toward the table.

There sat the glass bottle of indigo-blue medicine.

The medicine Karsein had taken to hide the fact that he'd secretly gone West — and the same medicine fed to him now, to pull him back from this bout of Dipeshan Syndrome.

Identical.

That time, and this one.

Once she understood this, a strange, creeping déjà vu washed over Claire.

“...Don't tell me. Because of me?”

He'd tried to make a secret deal, been caught by her, and left with nothing.

Had he been trying to hide it that time — and because she'd caught wind of it, everything had blown up in his face?

And if this time, unlike then, he wasn't hiding anything at all — if it was because, even if it meant being torn apart, he had a trade to keep?

She wanted to call the thought absurd, but she couldn't deny it.

Apart from that, there was no reason for Karsein to behave the way he did.

“Was it really... because of me?”

Claire bit down hard on her lip.

If it were true, then this was her own karma coming due.

If, because of that one incident, Karsein had learned never to boast of the things that deserved praise, while being punished indiscriminately for every mistake—

then Karsein was now a man who could not receive a single positive word of judgment, ever.

And in truth, that was exactly how it had been.

Flora had intervened on his behalf, yes — but every time.

Punishment had simply been assumed, and he had been cast as the fool who caused trouble no matter what he did.

Even the nobles outside the ducal residence had come to see him that way.

Every time they'd approached Karsein with a weary trouble again, is it? — that had been her.

Time and time again, it had been Claire Bagrand who scolded Karsein Bagrand.

Before long, she forced a bitter smile and tried to deny it.

“No. That can't be. Things couldn't possibly line up this perfectly.”

But the question came circling right back to her.

Do you really believe that?

“Hey, Karsein!”

Unable to shake the sick feeling, Claire burst out of the house and shouted — but her voice could never reach him.

He had already ridden off, long before.

“Coachman!”

“Yes, Lady Claire!”

“We're heading to the ducal residence right now. As fast as you can possibly go.”

Chasing after the brother who had already departed for the ducal house, Claire kept urging the coachman to speed up, over and over.

It can't be. It can't possibly be that.

And yet she could not hide the anxiety twisting in her chest.