Fief Tax (2)
While the Saintess was away treating the Count's daughter, I remained in the drawing room with Rhea, sipping tea, and briefly lifted my head to scan the surroundings.
The furniture and ornaments — rough-hewn yet full of character, steeped in an antique charm — made quite an impression.
"Tax Collector, sir. Here are the related documents I've organized."
While I had been studying the stuffed bear's head mounted above the fireplace, Rhea, having finished her work at some point, held the papers out to me.
"Excellent."
I nodded at the flawless documents and gave her a thumbs-up. Then I looked around once more and continued.
"What do you make of it?"
"There was nothing unusual regarding the Fief Tax. Though the amounts are in gold coin units…"
"No — I was asking about this Richmond territory."
"Pardon? Ah. Well. How should I put it… everything seems fine, but it's a bit bleak."
"Bleak?"
"Yes. It's as if everyone is a doll without emotions. The atmosphere is so different from my hometown far from the capital that it feels awkward, even accounting for the regional difference."
Worried someone might overhear, Rhea glanced around cautiously. I smirked at the sight of her.
You check before you speak. What's the point of looking around after you've already said everything?
Anyway, Rhea was a touch dull in that department.
So what am I going to do about this.
Leaning back in the chair, I regarded the documents in my hand. I had a vague sense of what Count Richmond was hiding. At this point, I figured the Saintess must be getting a feel for it too.
But honestly, whatever Count Richmond had done was none of my concern. If anything, I was starting to think it would be better not to take an interest.
My goal had always been the same.
It's all their own choices, after all.
If someone had forced this situation into being, even I would have found it hard to look the other way. But when people brought something on themselves, the parties involved simply had to take responsibility. Did I really need to care?
All right. Decision made.
"Secretariat Rhea — if Count Richmond continues to be uncooperative, we'll proceed with enforcement."
Having sorted my thoughts, I made the call.
"Saintess, how is the young lady's condition?"
At Phai-ton's question, the Saintess — who had been examining Count Richmond's daughter, Lilia Richmond — let out a sigh.
"Where is the Count?"
"He is waiting outside, lest he interfere with the treatment."
"I see…"
"Is it serious? Shall I explain to the Count in your stead?"
"No. It isn't that. It's just… I don't know how to put this…"
Looking at the Count's daughter lying unconscious on the bed, the Saintess hesitated a moment. Then she hardened her expression and gestured for Phai-ton to come closer.
"The young lady's condition is so poor that it would not be strange if something happened at any moment. Even if I intervene, I do not believe she can last more than a few days."
"She looks far too peaceful for that…"
"That is precisely what is strange. Her breathing is stable and her skin has good color — she looks no different from someone who has simply gone to bed."
"Hmm. Between what occurred outside the castle and this, there is more than one suspicious point."
Continuing their whispered exchange, Phai-ton furrowed his brow and shifted his gaze toward the bed. After staring intently at the young lady for a long while, he firmly shook his head and spoke again.
"I believe it would be best to postpone the treatment for now."
"What? Are you saying we should ignore a sick person?"
"That is not my meaning. Since the young lady's visible condition is good — contrary to your assessment, Saintess — I am saying we should observe a little first."
"But…"
"Saintess, does nothing strike you as odd? Not a single person from the branch came forth to greet you upon your arrival. And the state of the guards is also somewhat concerning."
"Are you saying all of that is connected?"
"Yes. For now, let us keep watch over the young lady while we ascertain just what has befallen this territory. I shall handle the Count with a suitable excuse."
At Phai-ton's continued persuasion, the Saintess reluctantly nodded. No — more precisely, she had no choice but to nod.
It was not certain yet. But the only being capable of creating such an abnormal situation was that.
The Saintess clasped her hands neatly and quietly offered a prayer for the Count's daughter before her.
Please… let it not be a demon…
"Ha! These money-crazed bastards dare—!"
The moment I uttered the words Fief Tax, Count Richmond flew into a rage. He was nothing like the man who had received the Saintess — more like some Asura Count. But I was unfazed. It was a reaction I had fully expected.
"Y-you shameless bastard! Are you even human? A human, I say! My daughter is lying sick in bed, and you come to demand taxes? And Fief Tax at that?! You vile scoundrels who've thrown all etiquette to the dogs!"
Well, even I had to admit this was a bit much. A man of Count Richmond's standing couldn't possibly not know what Fief Tax meant. When he'd been out of his mind for years over his sick daughter, some stranger he'd never met barges in demanding Fief Tax — who would take that well?
If I had to make a comparison, it wasn't much different from showing up at a funeral and causing a scene over unpaid debts. Or perhaps it was even worse. This was tantamount to the Imperial Family openly declaring they would cast Count Richmond out — an excommunication in all but name.
"C-Count, please calm down for a moment. Please hear us out. We're merely messengers following orders…"
But unlike my calm demeanor, Rhea — being a newcomer — apparently hadn't anticipated this reaction from the Count. She broke out in a cold sweat trying desperately to soothe him, but it was all futile.
"Silence! You should be grateful I'm even sharing a seat with the likes of you — and you dare open your mouth so freely, you lowborn wench?!"
"H-hieek!"
"Get out this instant! Or I'll have you killed right now for insulting a noble!"
Rhea was so shocked she stammered, then grabbed my sleeve and trembled. It was truly lamentable — but the truth was that in this place, a commoner sitting face-to-face with a noble and conversing was absurd to begin with. Especially if the other party was a conservative noble.
Rhea could only be here because she was a civil servant and a 4th Grade Senior Secretariat. If her rank had been even a little lower, she wouldn't have been allowed at this table.
The Count has been quite considerate, actually.
Unfortunately, this was the reality of this world. By local standards, Rhea had crossed the line. After all, mercenaries didn't hire fallen nobles as expensive figurehead bosses for nothing when trying to land contracts with the aristocracy.
But what did I care about any of that?
If I were an ordinary civil servant seeking promotion, I would have apologized to the Count and soothed him. But I was someone who wanted to quit. Having the Count react this way actually worked in my favor.
"Count, the aide beside me is not seated as a commoner but in her capacity as a 4th Grade Senior Secretariat. In other words, though she may be a commoner, she is a civil servant properly carrying out official duties under Imperial decree."
"What?! Is that how your house raised you? Playing word games with me?!"
"Ah. For reference, I'm of illegitimate birth, by the way?"
"I-illegitimate? Illegitimate?! After all the sacrifices our house has made for the Empire! This is wrong! This cannot be! I'll go to the capital right now and purge the old snakes blocking His Majesty's eyes and ears!"
"If that's what you wish, by all means. We simply need to collect the Fief Tax."
"You highway robber… Aaaagh! Argh!"
Count Richmond raged like a wildfire, then clutched the back of his neck and collapsed in agony. Yet even then, the man who appeared to be his butler simply stood behind him with an expressionless face. I stared hard at the butler's face for a moment, then shifted my gaze back to the Count.
"Haa. I don't want any further problems either. I don't know why the Imperial Family is demanding Fief Tax from you, Count, and I neither want to know nor get involved. I'll simply collect what's due cleanly and leave. Please cooperate."
"Grrk…!"
"If you're in financial difficulty, we can accept crops or specialty products as substitutes. Hell, even firewood would be fine. Of course, since the amounts are in gold coin units, every mountain around here would end up bare."
"Enough! Please, enough. I cannot endure any further insults. Even my patience has limits!"
"There's also the option of returning a portion of the territory to the Imperial Family."
Count Richmond gripped his gloves, glaring at me as if he wanted to devour me whole. Further conversation seemed meaningless. I rose from my seat and delivered my ultimatum with cold eyes.
"I'll give you a few more days. If you continue to be this uncooperative then, we'll proceed with administrative enforcement."
Then I walked straight out without looking back.
Crash!!
"Kyaaaaaaah!!!"
The Count's desperate wail, close to a scream, rang out behind me. But I pretended not to hear.
"Tax Collector, sir — even so, morally this is a bit…"
Rhea, trailing after me, urgently caught my sleeve and teared up.
"Secretariat Rhea. You cannot break principles just because someone is pitiful, or poor, or in a bad situation."
I firmly shook off her hand and shook my head.
"And abandon the notion that such people are automatically good."