The Plum Blossom Swordmaster Reincarnated into a Count's Family
I stepped into Silly's house.
For a shack, it was fairly spacious. The near-total lack of belongings inside made it feel even larger.
Two women were waiting within. One looked to be in her early to mid-thirties; the other was a little girl who barely reached half my height. Silly's mother and younger sister. Both were every bit as beautiful as one would expect from Silly's bloodline. Silly's mother, in particular, boasted a bust every bit as generous as her daughter's.
"Silly. Who is that gentleman?"
"Unnie. Who's that person?"
"Ah. This is…."
Silly stole a glance at me for cues. I stepped forward and introduced myself without the slightest hesitation.
"I am Count Eugene Frucus. I'll only impose until my clothes dry."
"C-Count?!"
The startled women dropped to their knees at once. I waved them up with a casual flick of the hand.
"I know full well I'm an uninvited guest. Don't mind me—make yourselves comfortable."
"Y-Yes, Count."
Silly's mother and sister fidgeted awkwardly. Even when told to relax, they could not truly do so. That was only natural. A single word from me could ruin their entire lives.
I settled into the chair by the table and surveyed the room. With no windows, the interior was dark and damp. Light and air drifted in through the open door, but it was far from satisfactory.
Vegetables and meat lay on the table—the very provisions I had brought to this village.
"Did I interrupt your meal?"
"No. We eat in the evening. Count, thank you for the food support. Thanks to you, we should be able to eat well today."
Silly's mother answered.
"I see you heard from Tom. But this house has no stove? Don't tell me you eat everything raw?"
"The stove is outside. We share it with the others."
"That must be inconvenient."
"Once you get used to it, it's fine. Count, please wait a moment. I'll at least bring some water."
"No need. An uninvited guest has no right to ask for much."
I produced a glass bottle of orange juice and four cups, including my own, then poured.
"Orange juice. A drink you rarely see in these parts. One glass each."
They did not reach for the cups.
"We're fine. We couldn't possibly accept something so precious."
"You refuse a drink I offer?"
"N-Not at all!"
Silly's mother hurriedly stretched out her hand and shot her daughters a pointed look. The girls, still watching me carefully, took their cups. I drank first; only then did they raise the glasses to their lips and gulp.
"Wooow! It's delicious!!"
Silly's little sister's eyes went round with pure delight. The other two women were no less astonished by the taste.
"I've never had anything this good! Thank you for letting us try it, Count!"
"Orange juice, you said? To think such a thing exists in the world…. Amazing."
The atmosphere loosened a fraction, yet they still watched my every move with excessive caution.
"I seem to be a burden."
"Ah, no!"
"It's fine. I understand. A count appearing out of nowhere must be thoroughly bewildering."
I glanced around once more, then lowered my voice and spoke to them.
"I'll be honest. I came to this refugee village looking for you—the Jefnik family. I was lucky enough to meet Silly Jefnik at the well. Getting doused with water was… unexpected, I'll admit."
"I-I'm sorry."
"Just kidding, Silly. No need to bow your head. And keep this conversation private. Getting caught up in baseless rumors would do you no favors."
"Count."
Silly's mother called to me. The set of her face told me she had already steeled herself for whatever answer might come.
"Ask."
"…May I ask why you sought out our family?"
"Nothing sinister, so don't worry. I simply wish to repay a debt I owe Alphonse."
"Alphonse…. You know him?"
Alphonse Jefnik.
Silly's father.
Just as in the original story, Alphonse Jefnik had already fallen in battle. I had finished my investigation long ago.
"Of course I know him. He was my comrade. I owe him my life from the battlefield. Alphonse's wife… Martina. I know your name as well. First daughter Silly, second daughter Elsie. Alphonse always spoke of how badly he wanted to see his family again."
A complete lie.
I had never once met anyone named Alphonse. The man was already dead; meeting him was impossible.
Martina's eyes welled at the mention of her husband.
"Hic…. D-Do you know what became of him?"
"Last I heard he was on the northern front. Once the war ends, he will return."
"He's alive. Thank goodness… truly, thank goodness…."
Martina wiped her tears with the back of her hand, her face visibly easing with relief. I held out a white handkerchief.
"Use this."
"…I couldn't dirty something so fine."
"It doesn't matter. It's yours now, Martina."
I pressed the handkerchief into her hands. She accepted it hesitantly.
"…Thank you."
Once the mood had settled, I made my proposal.
"Martina. I'll see to every convenience—won't you come work at the mansion? Watching Alphonse's family struggle in a place like this pains me."
"…I'm grateful for the offer, but we lack the proper manners to serve in a count's household. And when he returns, I want to leave the city at once and go home."
Martina refused.
I had expected as much. She had once been a maid in a noble mansion, only to be framed as a thief, stripped of everything, and cast out. That old wound still held her fast.
"If that is your wish, so be it. But I will help you regardless."
"We're truly fine."
"This concerns my honor. You wouldn't make me out to be an ungrateful bastard, would you?"
"Ah—I understand. Then… just a little help from the Count."
Martina spoke as though the very idea weighed her down.
"Then first, we move your residence."
"Pardon?"
"I cannot leave my benefactors in a hovel like this. There are several empty houses nearby. I'll lend you one free of charge—until Alphonse returns."
"That's…."
"Martina. Please do not ignore my goodwill."
"……Yes."
They exchanged uneasy glances.
Once my clothes had dried, I led them out of the refugee village. "Out" was a relative term—barely a fifteen-minute walk. Yet the house I showed them was a proper two-story dwelling that made their former shack look pitiful by comparison.
A middle-class home within the city.
"Can we really live in a house this grand?"
"Of course, Martina. A place of this level means nothing to me. And I should call a doctor as well."
"A doctor?"
"You've been favoring your left leg since earlier. My eyes aren't so easily fooled."
"This is… from a fall while working last time. It barely hurts. It doesn't interfere with daily life."
"That judgment belongs to a physician, not you. I'll fetch one—go inside and unpack."
I brought an elderly doctor and had him examine Martina.
After inspecting her left knee, the old man spoke with a grave face and voice.
"The kneecap has weakened. We are fortunate to have caught it early. Had it gone unnoticed any longer… amputation would have been necessary."
Every face in the room went rigid. Silly and Elsie, in particular, looked utterly stricken.
Of course, every word was a lie. Martina's left knee was nothing more than a bruise. A few days of proper rest would erase all trace of it. The doctor was simply reciting the script I had given him beforehand.
"Madam. If you do not wish to lose that leg forever, absolute rest is mandatory."
"Th-That can't be. I have to work! I have to feed my children!"
Martina's voice rose in agitation. The doctor glanced my way.
"I'll handle that concern. Doctor—treat her."
With a solemn expression he applied medicinal herbs to Martina's left leg and wrapped it tightly in bandages.
"I will return in one week to check the progress. Until then, rest quietly. I have given you fair warning."
The old doctor departed.
Martina sat with her head bowed, staring blankly at her bandaged leg.
"Martina. Don't worry. I'll look after you for the time being."
"…Count."
"Do not refuse. Think of the children and your future."
This world was harsh enough even for those with all four limbs intact. Missing a leg? You became nothing but a burden. Abandoning disabled family members was common—painfully common—here.
"Thank you…. Truly, thank you, Count…."
Martina wept as she spoke. I patted her shoulder in silence and stepped out of the room.
"Mother! Stay still. I'll handle every chore."
"Mom. You can't lose your leg. You're okay, right?"
"Silly, I'm so glad you're here. Elsie, Mom is fine."
I sat blankly in a living-room chair. A short while later Silly emerged from the bedroom. The moment she saw me she bowed deeply at the waist.
"Count! Thank you so much! Because of you, Mother won't lose her leg. How can I ever repay this kindness…."
"Think nothing of it. I'm the one repaying a debt. Your father—Alphonse—saved my life. This much barely begins to settle the score."
I closed the distance. Tears still glistened in Silly's eyes. I let my palm glide naturally down her back. She flinched, a faint flush rising to her cheeks.
"Still… thank you so much. But, um… I'll be out for a little while."
"Hmm? Do you have somewhere to be?"
"Starting today I promised to help with the evening preparations at the Mount Hua Sect. I'll be back before sunset. The Mount Hua Sect is…."
"I know. Its master is my brother. If you'd rather not go alone, I'll accompany you."
"It's fine. I know the way, and the Mount Hua Sect isn't in a dangerous place."
"Hmm. Very well. I'll wait until evening."
"You'll wait?"
"I have nothing pressing at the moment… and I am concerned for all of you. Would that be an imposition?"
"Absolutely not! Will you stay for dinner as well? It won't be much, but I truly want to treat the Count to a proper meal!"
"Oh? Confident in your cooking, are we?"
"I learned from Mother. She used to work in a noble household, so cooking is one thing I can claim confidence in."
"I'll be back as quickly as I can!"
Silly dashed out the door. I watched the sway of her full breasts with leisurely appreciation.
Creak.
The sound of a door, then a presence. From the second-floor landing, Elsie peeked down at me. She was adorable, a miniature of Martina and Silly. In five years or so she would grow into a beauty to rival her sister.
I waved.
"Elsie. If you're bored, why not come play with me?"
"I-I will, Count!"