Still, Gotta Do What I Gotta Do
Still, gotta do what I gotta do.
Something I'd been noticing lately… the way the servants looked at me had changed a lot.
In Ivan Cluers' old memories, the household staff had been openly afraid of him. And honestly, who could blame them? Pre-possession Ivan had been an iron-blooded machine of a man. I mean it — the guy genuinely seemed to have no emotions. Blank face as the default setting, zero feeling in his voice, and a mind that was pure reason and logic incarnate. He was absurdly competent, sure, but he ran everything by the book with zero flexibility, so of course the servants found him terrifying.
After I became Ivan Cluers, the way they looked at me shifted a little. They seemed less scared of me — less tense, maybe. You could see it. A person's whole atmosphere changes, after all. For servants who'd spent years around Ivan, picking up on even a subtle shift in vibe wasn't exactly surprising.
I'd been trying to keep up a Margrave-appropriate way of speaking and not let the modern-Korean slip show, but even with Ivan's memories, producing an atmosphere identical to the original was basically impossible. That said, it wasn't a bad thing. Servants being less afraid of me? From my perspective, that was great. I understood where they were coming from, but I was still a person. Was I supposed to feel good about people being scared of me?
Most people prefer being looked at with positive feelings rather than negative ones. …For the record, the Ivan in my memories was the exception. That rational, logical monster of a man had decided that servants fearing him was useful for his rule, so he deliberately maintained the image. Honestly, I suspected a bit of self-justification mixed in there. He'd shut the door on his own heart, viewed everything through pure reason, made the servants afraid as a result — and then rationalized it as, This is actually advantageous for governance, therefore I am correct. That kind of vibe. I could understand his feelings to a point, but still.
Anyway, the Ivan in my memories and the me of now were different people, so of course the servants' gazes would change. And recently, those gazes had shifted dramatically once again. Before, it had been a noticeable drop in fear and tension. Now? Their eyes were just warm and fond. They weren't scared of me at all. Beyond that — there were even moments when I could feel them watching me. These were the same servants who used to carefully read every one of Ivan's moods.
The reason for the change was obvious. Aria. After Aria arrived, the servants' gazes had shifted a second time. Of course they had. An iron-blooded man who ran everything by the book, showing a gentle side to a little girl and showering her with every kindness? That image was going to flip overnight. If I'd been a servant, my view would have changed too.
But honestly… it wasn't a change I could simply welcome. This was something I needed to take seriously.
Ivan Cluers. The man who had ousted his own father, the previous Margrave, and taken the title. Why had he gone so far as to quietly dispose of even the father he'd already driven out? Because he had to. If he'd merely confined the former Margrave, the position he'd seized would have been genuinely unstable. A Margrave who inherited the seat from his predecessor and a Margrave who overthrew his predecessor and took it by force — the difference in their support bases was night and day.
He couldn't afford to waver. The justification he'd used when ousting the previous Margrave — that he was a competent Margrave, unlike his incompetent father — could never be allowed to crumble. So the image of a capable Margrave had to be carefully maintained at all times.
But honestly, showing a soft side to a little girl and lavishing kindness on her didn't exactly scream "competent Margrave," did it? If anything, it chipped away at that image. Which meant the change in the servants' gazes might need to be read as a kind of signal. Not a red light, maybe — but a yellow one, at least.
Ah, of course, that didn't mean I was going to stop being the reliable backer for the protagonist of a nadena-de novel. If I quit that role now, the result would be worse than if I'd never started. Stop being her sturdy support out of nowhere, and Aria's heart would close right back up — and reopening a closed door would take even more time and effort than before.
So why bring up image damage and unwelcome shifts in the servants' gazes at all? Because I needed a countermeasure, obviously. I couldn't just sit here sucking my thumb when I couldn't abandon the role of the nadena-de protagonist's reliable backer.
Fortunately, I already had a plan. I'd spent some of my competent-Margrave image capital playing the sturdy backer for a nadena-de protagonist? Then I'd just earn the image back somewhere else. And I already knew where.
The front lines. I was going to earn my image back on the front lines.
"…I suppose I should brace myself for the Head Butler's counsel."
He would almost certainly advise me that a Margrave had no business standing on the front lines — but the risk came with a correspondingly solid return.
Anyway, that was that, and…
"They said it'd be finished today…"
Where on earth were the board games and card games I'd ordered people to make?
Was this really the same person who'd just been fretting over spending his competent-Margrave image capital?
…Still, gotta do what I gotta do.
I was absolutely not waiting with my neck craned out of pure desire to play board games and card games. This was purely in service of excellently fulfilling my role as the reliable backer of a nadena-de novel's protagonist.
…Really!
How long had I waited?
At last, the results of the commissions I'd ordered arrived in front of me.
…Yeah, that was definitely a lot. Maybe I'd gone a little overboard with the order. When it came to recreating the board games and card games in my head, some of them were only half-remembered, so I'd told them to fill in the gaps themselves as needed… and this was the result. Well, there's a saying that more is better, right? Better too many than too few.
All right then… time for a thorough quality check.
"Hmm… well made."
I nodded, thoroughly pleased with the results. You could tell they'd put real care into the craftsmanship. The materials were clearly high quality, too. I was genuinely satisfied.
…Come to think of it, I had to be satisfied. Considering how much money I'd paid, satisfaction was the bare minimum. Dissatisfaction would have been the real problem.
Now I just needed to take these to Aria. …Not that I'd be carrying them myself. I'd have the maids do it. A Margrave lugging a mountain of board games and card games around would look ridiculous — that wouldn't just chip away at the competent-Margrave image, it'd shatter it completely.
I called a servant at once.
"I'll be taking these to Aria, so summon the maids."
"Understood."
I was curious how Aria would react when she saw all of this… Ideally, a delicious reaction.
"What… is all this…?"
And Aria did not betray my expectations. Her eyes went round as saucers, her face blank with pure bewilderment — absolutely delicious. Reactions this good made spoiling her all the more worthwhile. Bringing everything at once had been the right call. If I'd dribbled them out one by one, I'd never have gotten a reaction like this.
Meanwhile, the maids set everything down and withdrew. Aria's dazed expression didn't ease just because they were gone.
She'd asked a question, so I should answer.
"As you can see, board games and card games."
"No, I mean…"
That wasn't what she was asking, of course. She could tell they were board games and card games just by looking.
"I had them made so I could play with you, Aria."
"So you could play with me……. Wait, what? You had them made?"
"Just the ideas and the rules. I had people make the physical pieces."
I said it that way, but I knew perfectly well that the ideas and rules were the real core. And judging by the way Aria's mouth hung open with no sign of closing, she probably knew it too.
I'd considered keeping the fact that I'd come up with the ideas and rules a secret — the same way I'd hidden that I'd summoned the craftsman who handled the Imperial family's bedding — but that had been pure money spent, while this was more about the care put into it. I decided there was no need to keep it secret this time.
Technically, "I made them" was less accurate than "I recreated things from my memories"… but this wasn't modern Earth. This was a fantasy world. Even if I told the truth, no one would believe me. And I wasn't making money off this — so I figured the original creators would forgive me for taking a tiny bit of credit with Aria.
Why not make money off it, you ask? Because… I didn't need to? If I'd been a commoner, maybe. But I was a noble — a Margrave ruling a prosperous territory, no less. I wasn't just free of immediate money worries; I was at the level of never needing to worry about money for the rest of my life. Making a lot of money wouldn't hurt, of course… but assigning people, running projects, receiving reports — it was all quietly annoying. You might say I should just dump everything on someone else… but as I've said, the image of a competent Margrave had to be maintained at all times. Did a Margrave who started projects and then dumped them all look competent, or did a Margrave who showed some personal investment in the work he'd started look competent? Obviously the latter. So if I was going to start something, I needed to think carefully first. Thoughtlessly spinning up project after project just meant future-me would suffer.
Anyway, enough of that.
"Well then, shall we try one? Do you have time right now?"
"I— uh, um…. Yes…."
Great. Then first up…
Monopoly, right?