Securing Elisa (5)
"Hah… why did it have to be me?"
The soldiers stood guard before the designated door, bodies rigid with tension. Their sole duty was one and the same: wait in front of Lady Elisa’s room. Until when? Until she stepped out the next morning.
"Tsk. Figures."
This was never a genuine guard mission. It was pure theater, an act designed solely to demonstrate that soldiers were stationed outside Lady Elisa’s door. Nothing more than empty formality, a performance to prove that the Vicken Duchy was extending proper respect to the young noblewoman.
So it was only natural that the soldiers eventually relaxed and began trading quiet conversation. Their purpose wasn’t to block intruders but simply to stand there like living decorations. The knights, Leona included, understood this perfectly. As long as the chatter never grew too loud, they usually let it slide.
"Still, if you ignore the verbal abuse, at least we don’t get groped. That’s something, right?"
"Yeah, I suppose."
Which was why the soldiers kept their voices low, whispering among themselves until Elisa woke. Most of the talk revolved around the same bitter complaints: the knights who saw female soldiers as little more than objects to harass. In a world where mana existed, the gap in raw strength between men and women was almost nonexistent. Even commoners could wield a little mana, so the military drafted both sexes equally. For the women on duty, guarding Lady Elisa’s door was actually a coveted assignment. This was a male-forbidden zone. Even Wellington, master of the castle, could not approach without prior arrangement.
It couldn’t be helped. The current guests occupying the visitor quarters—Elisa Soryu, Helen Wagner, and others—possessed titles that placed them on equal footing with Wellington himself.
"All of you, silence."
"Hail! Lady Erika! No irregularities during our watch!"
"Good."
When the proper time arrived, Erika appeared, quieted the whispering soldiers with a single word, and waited with stern dignity until Elisa emerged.
Creak!
At last the door opened. As always, the soldiers bowed their heads.
"…."
Elisa looked at them, then offered a gentle smile.
"Good morning, everyone."
"?!"
The soldiers’ eyes widened in shock.
Fuck… what the hell is this?
We’re screwed…
Normally she would have sneered, “Tsk. You filthy vermin. Get out of my sight this instant. How many times must I tell you not to station garbage like this in front of my door?” Yet here she was, offering a cheerful morning greeting.
"L-Lady Elisa?"
Erika, assigned to escort her to the dining hall today, could only stare in disbelief, her eyes darting left and right.
"Let’s go."
"Eh…? Ah, yes, my lady."
The Elisa of the past would have clicked her tongue at Erika with open displeasure. Instead she radiated brightness, accepting the knight’s escort as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The sight was so bizarre it bordered on surreal.
"Did the sun rise in the west today?"
"Must have…"
Once Erika had moved far enough away, the soldiers—who had now finished their decorative duty—pinched their own cheeks to confirm they weren’t dreaming, then trudged back to their regular posts.
Lately I’ve noticed Elisa’s reputation among the commoners improving dramatically. The soldiers who once snapped to rigid attention the moment she approached now saluted her with relaxed, almost friendly voices. It wasn’t a lapse in discipline. It felt more like genuine courtesy rather than terror of a superior.
After resolving Elisa’s issues, I had expected a stretch of relatively peaceful days. Instead, a new problem dropped straight into my lap.
The plague-doctor-masked physician who kept her entire body concealed beneath layers of magical disguise—Gemini Bais, currently operating under the alias Jemel Bais. Right now, she was my single greatest headache.
"……."
Jemel Bais sorted through documents with a distinctly dissatisfied expression, eyes fixed on me.
I had built her a temporary clinic because she wanted to heal people. Just days ago she had practically worshipped me as a saint for hiring the socially disadvantaged and giving them honest work. So why was she glaring at me like that?
"Department Head. You clearly told me you would clean the streets thoroughly to prevent the black plague, did you not?"
"I did."
The uncomfortable silence stretched until she could no longer hold her tongue.
"Yet I hear the workers will not be returning starting tomorrow."
"Correct."
What was she getting at? Tomorrow marked the sixth day since the project began—the start of Saturday. Of course the people wouldn’t be coming.
"For what possible reason?"
"Hm?"
I genuinely didn’t understand. I had simply granted them a holiday.
"Is that not obvious?"
"…."
Jemel glared at me.
"Obvious? You dangle a thread of hope before those poor souls and then only make them work for five measly days?"
"Wait, wait just a moment."
Only then did the realization hit me. This was the Middle Ages. There was no such thing as scheduled rest days. From spring through autumn, the default was to labor every single day except when it rained. I had been so steeped in modern thinking that I had forgotten this basic truth and casually announced a holiday without proper explanation.
"I merely gave them a short break. After two days they will return to work."
"If that is true, then go outside right now and tell those people—who are grieving even as they express gratitude—that they should come back."
"…Understood."
I had already planned to do exactly that even without her prompting. Still, because she was a capable female who had chosen the brutal path of a physician despite her noble birth, all for the sake of helping others… I decided to overlook this little outburst. Pointing out her master’s mistake was, after all, the proper duty of a woman who existed to support me. Her tone had been rather insolent, but I would let it pass. For now.
Selin clutched the fistful of silver coins so tightly her knuckles turned white. Today was the last day her son Jean would bring home this much money.
"The department head said we don’t have to come out starting tomorrow!"
Soldiers were circulating through the area, informing everyone that today marked the end of the job. Alpha had clearly told them that since the workers had a holiday beginning tomorrow, the soldiers themselves could return to the barracks and enjoy the weekend. While the concept of a weekend existed, the idea of an actual holiday was foreign to the commoners of this era. Nobles, of course, not only practiced a five-day workweek but sometimes took the entire week off.
In any case, the soldiers had naturally assumed that today was the final day for those participating in the environmental cleanup project and had delivered the news accordingly.
"Sigh. Still, how many people like us ever get an opportunity like this?"
"Right? They even gave us soap. He really is a kind man."
Among commoners, the disabled were treated as untouchable vermin little better than slaves. To people like them, Alpha—who paid fair wages from day one, distributed soap, and even provided meals—had already become an object of profound gratitude. Even if the employment had only lasted five days, it was far more than most received. Other employers frequently withheld a full month’s pay or simply fled without settling debts. The proper wages and genuine welfare they had experienced were more than enough to inspire loyalty. Some of the slower-witted ones had even begun calling him a saint.
"Anyway, have you found your next job yet?"
"I heard the goblins have multiplied like crazy in the forest lately…"
"Ha! You missing one arm already and you want to lose the other?"
"I’m thinking of buying some decent armor with the money I earned this time."
"…Armor, huh. Well, we did get paid pretty well. Taking a meat-shield role with proper gear doesn’t sound so bad. If we earn more subjugating goblins…"
Regardless, they had to keep living. Each of them began trading information while pondering their immediate future. Socially vulnerable people like these routinely exchanged tips on which jobs were safest from exploitation. They were more animated than ever, because finding decent work was literally a matter of survival. Even while employed in the current cleanup project, they had gathered an impressive amount of intelligence.
The lively exchange of information continued throughout the workday. Some settled on goblin hunting; others, if that seemed too dangerous, decided to try piecework sewing that paid honest wages.
"Heave-ho!"
Believing it truly was their last day, the people worked with fierce energy, gathering filth from the streets and hauling it to the building known as the purification plant.
"……."
A pair of eyes watched them leave with clear dissatisfaction after they set down their loads.
"Tsk."
A soft click of the tongue.
Mana stirred around them and began flowing into the waste containers.