Chapter 39: Honorary Count Deon Hart (4)
Chapter 39: Honorary Count Deon Hart (4)
"Bastards who wouldn't have even dared to utter such words if they knew the slightest thing about the Count."
"What do you mean by that..."
"Not going to tell you. If you're that curious, figure it out on your own."
"......"
Not that they'd be able to figure it out anyway.
The Emperor's dogs? How laughable. If you were to select the person with the lowest loyalty to the Emperor among all those who participated in the Eight-Year War, without question, it would be themselves and their captain.
A particular emotion settled over the eyes of the members.
As fury, hatred, and all manner of negative emotions flared and subsided over a foundation of madness for a brief moment, one member who had barely managed to compose his feelings spoke in a low voice.
"So that's why you should stop tormenting someone who's already struggling—"
The members shuffled closer to block the view of onlookers.
Since they only needed to keep one alive anyway, surely killing one insolent bastard who ran his mouth would be fine.
A member who had quietly drawn his weapon spoke with a smile that anyone could see was fake.
"Die."
* * *
Having endured Lady Rien's burdensome gaze-based assault and somehow made it to my room, I avoided her stare—as she was still stubbornly refusing to leave—by pretending not to notice, fixing my gaze outside the window.
'Those bastards again, gathered around again. What are they doing, huddling together in a cluster like that?'
Surely they weren't causing trouble again.
No, before that, why were those bastards at my house in the first place? Shouldn't they be at the Imperial Palace?
"Lady Rien."
"Yes, my lord Count."
"Do you know what this situation is about?"
"Are you referring to the Revolutionary Army's attack?"
"No, I mean why those bastards are here."
"Ah, I understand that His Majesty has returned the knight order he temporarily held custody of during your absence."
Temporarily held custody of, my ass. He probably tried to swallow them whole but found them utterly unmanageable and sent them back.
Of course, before I departed on the Hero's journey after the war ended, the Emperor had indeed said the Imperial Household would temporarily take custody of the Lofty Knight Order during my absence.
But what naive person would believe that as stated?
Incidents of saying "I'll hold onto it for you" and then subtly gobbling it up were common facts found in any random history book.
There was also evidence, in its own way, that the Emperor had intended to do just that.
Though I'd never stayed here for long, there had been plenty of opportunities to return them.
Yet the fact that he returned them only now was likely because the members' personalities, which he had tried to control somehow, were one and all beyond handling.
Damn Emperor.
'Did he think I could handle bastards that even the Emperor finds unmanageable?'
If he'd swallowed them up, he should have just wiped his mouth clean and stayed quiet, instead of deliberately sending them back to me.
If it was meant as consideration, I wasn't grateful in the slightest. If it was meant to mess with me, it was a truly masterful choice.
As my expression was rotting into a wretched mess, Rememver—having apparently finished his cleanup—requested permission with a knock and entered.
Pure white gloves and a wrinkle-free tailcoat. His attire was consistently immaculate.
—Utterly unimaginable that he had just overturned a Revolutionary Army attack moments ago.
As always, he deflected my narrowed gaze with an elderly man's uniquely dignified smile and reported.
"The fire in the yard has been completely suppressed. I intend to hire one more skilled gardener for the garden's revival; I would like to know what the Count thinks."
"......Rememver, handle it as you see fit."
Since he's such a competent butler, I'm sure he'll manage things just fine.
His unexpected capability was quite dumbfounding, but thanks to it, my fury over the bomb (the mad dogs) the Emperor had foisted on me had subsided, so I decided to let it slide.
It wasn't like I'd get anything out of interrogating him anyway.
The priority was figuring out what to do about the bastards I'd been forced to take responsibility for.
"Rememver."
"Yes, Count."
"I'd like separate quarters provided for the knight order. Is that feasible?"
"The Hart County residence is large and spacious. I shall have dedicated quarters built for the knight order altogether."
Competent indeed. Swift handling without the slightest hint of bewilderment or hesitation!
If only that shifty attitude of his could be tweaked a little, he'd be perfect.
Just as I was clicking my tongue internally, Rememver shifted his gaze and looked at Lady Rien.
"What will Lady Rien do? Given the difference in gender, if you intend to stay, a separate room would need to be prepared......"
"Ah, I shall commute to and from this location. So you need not prepare quarters for me."
"Yes, understood."
Come to think of it, Lady Rien was a noble.
It was just that, having seen the murderer... no, the Lofty Knight Order—which was uniquely composed entirely of commoners—the idea of nobility didn't really register even with knights.
'Now that I think about it, this is a problem. The word 'knight' just naturally makes me think of 'mad dogs.' At this rate, I feel like even if I meet other knights, my eyes will be clouded by prejudice......'
"At any rate, it seems His Majesty holds the Count in very high regard."
"......Excuse me?"
Who holds who in high regard?
Baffled, I snapped my head up.
While I had been lost in thought, the situation had apparently been tidied up—the knight order members were nowhere to be seen, and Lady Rien, who appeared to be the one who had finished organizing things, was withdrawing with a silent bow.
And the one remaining before my eyes was Rememver, who had just uttered the most preposterous statement.
"What did you just say......"
"I said His Majesty seems to hold the Count in very high regard."
"......Rememver, don't you think you might need a vacation?"
"I would accept it gratefully if granted, but it's rather hurtful that you're already treating me like a senile old man."
But still, the Emperor, holding me in high regard. It probably had something to do with the knight order, but it was absurd.
On what grounds?
"Normally, due to the risk of rebellion, it's difficult to station another family's knight order in the Imperial Palace, let alone return them. Perhaps only a monarch with such faith and resolve would act this way."
"......"
But in my opinion, he tried to gobble them up, found it impossible, and basically foisted them back on me?
But what would be the point of saying so? Our butler, who loves to tease, would only hear what he wanted to hear. If anything, he'd seize on this to find some new way to needle me.
In the end, I let out a sigh and spoke.
"I'll rest now."
"Yes, please rest well. You'll likely be very busy starting tomorrow, after all."
"......?"
"Work has piled up significantly during the Count's absence. I've handled what I could within my authority, but there is more than one or two documents requiring the Count's approval."
"Ugh."
"For your reference, avoiding it will not resolve the matter. If anything, the work will only pile up further."
"......I had no intention of avoiding it."
Just the tiniest bit... but since I didn't act on it, well, it's fine.
Ah, I miss the Demon Realm, where I could just laze around.
'To think I'd ever want to return to the Demon Realm.'
Feeling the sheer majesty of the paperwork's power firsthand, I hurried toward the bathroom, avoiding Rememver's gaze, which held a subtle hint of amusement.
I was tired. Somehow, the fatigue accumulated here felt greater than the fatigue accumulated at the banquet hall.
'......It'd be better to build a completely separate dedicated quarters for the knight order.'
As far as possible from the spaces I occupied.
This was all because of those bastards. They yapped and yapped and sapped every last bit of my energy; if I weren't exhausted, I wouldn't be human.
Now that I thought about it, the forest behind the mansion seemed to be of considerable size for being within the count's residence. Would it be a bit quieter if I built it right in the middle of there?
'I'll have to seriously discuss it with Rememver later.'
* * *
The slums had an unspoken rule.
A rule made to somehow hold onto sanity and survive amidst a harsh life.
[Be friendly, but do not form attachments.]
......
Contrary to appearances, the slums were a place highly sensitive to all manner of rumors.
Nobles' moods were directly linked to the livelihoods of those here, so how could they not be sensitive?
When the nobles were in a bad mood, children who begged went hungry.
When the nobles had no leeway due to war preparations, those who sold their bodies starved.
When the nobles' outings decreased for some reason, those who threw themselves in front of carriages to extract money had to chew on tree roots.
As such, in the rumor-swift slums, 'the birth of a new hero' and 'the return of Deon Hart' were already old news.
And those empty spots were quickly filled by another rumor.
A rumor that might become hope for the people of the slums, a rumor akin to salvation.
A rumor actually related to 'salvation'—literally.
Siiya, having starved for several days, asked back in a faint voice.
"The Salvation Church?"
"Yeah, apparently they're handing out free bread and water in the slums."
"For free?"
"For free."
"That's nonsense. Didn't they drug it or something?"
Her voice was small, but the suspicion within it was clear. Additionally, a dubious expression was plainly displayed on Siiya's face.
Tousled and tangled hair, a grimy face.
Yes, Siiya was a person of the slums.
Born in the slums and having lived in the slums; a child of the slums, so worn down that she couldn't blindly accept goodwill without suspicion.
Therefore, she couldn't take the other person's words at face value.
So this was a lie. There was no reason anywhere to believe it.
"No. The lame uncle next door tried it, and he said nothing happened. He even said they didn't ask for anything and just let him go."
"......That's a lie."
She knew the lame uncle too.
A man who, having no attachment to life, threw himself unflinchingly in front of carriages to take the nobles' money.
Perhaps he would have eaten it regardless of whether it was drugged or not. At least to him, life and death held little meaning.
He probably figured if he lived, he lived; if he died, he died.
And he lived, apparently. Siiya still couldn't believe it.
There was no way that uncle would lie, so then, was this boy in front of her lying?
Then why? For what reason? What possible gain was there?
"I said it's true! I went out of my way to tell you because I felt sorry seeing you starve for a week straight, and now... Fine, if you don't want to believe it, don't! I'll go by myself! If you don't go, it's your loss, so whatever."
Paul scrunched up his face and turned away.
Ah, so he was offended. Walking with such stomping energy would drain him fast and make his stomach growl quicker, though.
Siiya stared blankly at the receding back with her lifeless eyes.
But anyway, he said he was going alone?
Seeing that Paul said he was going, the rumor didn't seem entirely baseless.
"The Salvation Church, was it......"
A voice, hoarse and cracked from not even drinking water properly, seeped out like a draft.
She hadn't been able to eat anything properly for a week, ever since she was beaten soundly for failing a pickpocket attempt.
The wrist she needed for pickpocketing was broken, and now that she had recovered a little, her body had no strength left to try again.
At this rate, she would die.
She could feel death, which had always stayed beside her, reaching out its hand.
In the slums, people were always dying off.
The person she had chatted with yesterday became a corpse, and the person who had shared a rumor the day before that committed suicide.
The corpses received no comfort whatsoever and were simply burned to prevent the spread of plague. Always, no one mourned them.
'When I die, will it be the same for me?'
Probably.
There was something the drunken bum, now dead, always used to say in lament.
[I never cried when others died, so who would cry for me?]
And when that uncle killed himself, just as he said, no one cried for him. Siiya didn't cry either.
Because this place was harsh on a child's tears. Tears only encouraged the wasting of energy.
So she didn't cry.
Then, when Siiya died, just as always, no one would cry for her.
Strangely enough, having that thought made her interested in the Salvation Church.
'So what if they put something weird in the bread and water.'
Whether she starved to death, died from poison, or even went missing, the reaction of the people here would be the same.
And if she was going to die anyway, wasn't it better to die with a full stomach than to die hungry?
She lifted her body, which had been lying limp and strengthless.
She could feel her arms and legs trembling weakly, but Siiya began to move her steps with difficulty.
She chased after Paul, who was now receding into a black dot in the distance, and called out to him with her bone-dry voice.
'Whether it's salvation or whatever, I don't care.'
If they just gave her bread and water as the rumor said.
Entrusting her body to Paul, who had circled back at some point and was now supporting her with a touch that was rough yet careful, she closed her eyes weakly.