A Brother's Resolve
Busy busy, pipi.
Far in the distance, the fence came into view.
Finally, I've arrived.
Ever since leaving his family home, Jerold had not rested for a single moment. He had hurried along the road without pause, sometimes riding in carts or carriages, other times joining merchant caravans or groups of travelers by offering to help with their work. He had likely used more than half the strength he would ever possess in his lifetime.
He had walked and walked with everything he had—so that he could reach Marguerite before she broke, so that she might suffer even a little less hardship.
Jerold closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.
Marguerite.
The letter of introduction he carried had passed through many hands. He knew almost nothing about the administrator named Kenson. He had asked around, but learning anything concrete about the man had proven difficult. The only thing he had managed to hear was that Kenson was not a bad person. At the very least, he did not seem like the type who would accept a bribe from Marguerite and then abandon her.
If that was true, then everything from here on rested on Jerold's shoulders as her older brother.
Jerold closed his eyes once more and breathed deeply.
I will save you. No matter what.
He had barely finished muttering the words when something tapped him from behind.
"Hah!"
Startled, he spun around to find a man standing there.
"What are you doing out here? Beasts don't usually come this close, but standing alone like that is still dangerous. Though rare, wounded ones sometimes wander by, and to them, a human makes for an easy meal."
The man wore shabby clothes. His hair was matted, as though he had not washed in days, and his face was etched with exhaustion. He might have been one of Kenson's subordinates.
Jerold calmed his racing heart and offered a polite smile.
"I've come looking for work. I would like to pay my respects to Lord Kenson. Might I have the chance to meet him?"
"You want a job in a place like this?"
The man eyed Jerold up and down with suspicion. Jerold quickly spoke again.
"I have a letter of introduction."
When Jerold pulled the envelope from his coat and held it out, the man glanced at the name written on it and looked mildly surprised.
"This... this was sent by my wife's younger brother."
"...."
Wife's younger brother...? Could this man be Kenson himself?
This time, it was Jerold who studied the man before him. Was someone dressed so raggedly truly the administrator? This was the frontier, and the post was considered a backwater assignment, but Kenson was still the man responsible for the entire pioneering project—the lord of this vast stretch of land. Even if the position brought little profit, he was still a noble and an official. Jerold had assumed he would at least maintain a respectable appearance.
Yet the man looked no different from a servant.
Almost on the level of the Kono barony—his own family. No, even his father, though dressed in old clothes, had still worn garments and ornaments befitting a noble. He had heirlooms passed down through generations, enough to preserve a minimum of dignity.
But Kenson's appearance...
Seeing Jerold's stunned expression, Kenson gave a crooked grin.
Ah. He had made a mistake.
Jerold quickly composed his face and bowed his head.
"My apologies. I was startled by the sudden meeting."
"No, it's understandable. My appearance is rather pitiful, after all. As you've seen, I'm a poor administrator with no money to hire you. I'll let you stay the night, but head back home tomorrow morning."
If there was no money here, that was actually a relief.
Jerold carefully kept his thoughts from showing on his face as he spoke.
"I don't need payment. If you simply let me eat, sleep, and learn the work, that will be enough."
"...."
Kenson regarded him with suspicion for a moment, then broke the wax seal on the letter of introduction. He read its contents while still standing.
Opening a letter of introduction out in the open like this was a complete disregard for proper etiquette.
This man is quite unusual for a noble.
Jerold reached into his coat again and produced several more letters of introduction, holding them out.
"These are letters vouching for my abilities."
Kenson opened each envelope one by one.
"Top graduate of the royal academy... diligent, with an impeccable character... They all speak very highly of you. Ah, this one is from someone I know. If he wrote a recommendation, your skills must be excellent. He didn't write one for me, though."
After reading through all the letters, Kenson's expression grew even more doubtful.
"Honestly, someone as capable as you coming all the way to the frontier for work makes me suspicious. And you're willing to work without pay? I don't trust people who offer to work for nothing. Since I can't afford to hire you anyway, go home tomorrow."
With that, Kenson turned and walked through the fence. It was not locked and swung open with the slightest push.
Jerold hurried after him.
"Please wait. There is something I want in place of money."
"...."
When Kenson stopped, Jerold rushed to continue, feeling as though this was his last chance.
"My younger sister was sent to the frontier as a bride. I have no money, and no way to bring her back. Please lend me your strength for that."
"Hmm."
Kenson seemed to consider it for a moment, then gestured with his hand.
"If that's the case, let's go inside and talk."
Once inside, a man who appeared to be a servant came to greet them.
"Prepare two portions for the meal."
"The usual, or the guest version?"
"He might be working with us from now on, so the usual."
The servant's eyes widened.
"Does that mean we'll finally have someone to work?"
"Well, I don't know yet."
"Either way, congratulations. If you get a subordinate, you might finally be able to go see your wife. Ah, this is wonderful news. The new arrival looks quite young and seems reliable. He looks like he'll stay for a long time. The last one ran away after only two months, even after we paid him."
The servant chattered on before disappearing into the building to prepare the meal.
There did not seem to be a separate steward. And for someone to run away from work... just how harsh were the conditions here?
Jerold felt a chill, but quickly pushed the thought aside. His sister was barely surviving right now. No matter how difficult the work was, it could not be worse than what she was enduring. If anything, thinking of her made him want to work hard. Being comfortable while she suffered would have been far more painful.
"It's a bit messy, but come in. There are important documents on the floor, so watch your step. If your shoes are clean it doesn't matter, but usually they're covered in dirt."
The office was filthy. Documents were piled like mountains, unsorted and mixed together. Seeing Jerold's expression, Kenson laughed heartily.
"It must look strange to a young man like you. Well, sit wherever you like and tell me your story. You said your sister is in the pioneer village? What's her name?"
He told Jerold to sit, but there was nowhere to sit. Every chair was buried under papers. Kenson gestured for him to move the documents aside.
Jerold gathered the papers from the chair and stacked them on the already towering pile beside it. They teetered precariously. He sat down carefully, and Kenson retrieved paper and a pen from the corner.
"So, what's your sister's name?"
"Her name is Marguerite."
Normally he would have given her family name as well, but after being falsely accused and expelled from the palace, she had been erased even from the marquis's household records. Right now, she was simply a commoner— no, a slave named Marguerite.
Thinking of his sister's situation, Jerold felt his eyes grow hot.
"Marguerite... hmm, Marguerite, you say...."
Kenson muttered as he swept one hand across the table, clearing a space, then wrote something down.
"I can't promise to get your sister out. But I can give you the authority to travel through the pioneer villages and negotiate with the village heads. The rest is up to you. If that works for you, sign the employment contract."
"I-is that all right?"
Jerold had expected more questions or conditions, but this was unexpected. Kenson nodded and pointed to the contract.
Jerold read through it. It stated that he would work for at least five years. There were no particularly unfavorable clauses, only the condition that he could not quit before five years had passed. The salary was modest but promised, and there was mention of possible additional pay depending on the work.
The terms were far better than he had braced himself for.
After Jerold signed, Kenson stamped the document with satisfaction and set it aside on the desk to dry.
"From this moment on, you are an administrator of this pioneer territory."
"Yes."
"Then let me give you my first piece of advice for the job."
"...."
"Don't let others know what you have. You were standing in front of this mansion with your eyes closed, as if in prayer. That shows the other person that you have something you desperately want."
It was true. Normally he would have been more cautious, but this was a remote place, and worry for his sister had left him no room to think of anything else.
"You seem intelligent and highly capable, but lacking in experience. Things visible from afar become invisible up close. Your sister is an extraordinary beauty, isn't she?"
"Y-yes, she is."
"You're not quite as handsome as she is beautiful, but you're still quite good-looking. You resemble her."
"...."
This man had known from the very beginning that he and Marguerite were siblings. Jerold had assumed he didn't know, since he had shown no sign of it.
Could it be that now he would refuse to help? Or worse—
Jerold's face went pale. He had assumed Marguerite was here in the village, but what if she had already been sold elsewhere?
Thinking back, Kenson had never once said he would help rescue her. He had only offered the authority to negotiate with village heads.
Kenson gave a crooked smile.
Jerold shot to his feet, but Kenson raised a hand to stop him.
"That's why I told you not to show everything you're thinking. Your sister is in the pioneer village."
"Thank goodness...."
The words slipped out before he could stop them, filled with relief.
Kenson stood and rolled up the now-dry contract, placing it in a drawer.
"She's doing very well, your sister. She even got married. I personally signed the marriage certificate and stamped it."
"...Huh?"
A strange sound escaped him.
Marguerite had gotten married? Officially?
"She even sent a letter to her family. A peddler took it. It will pass through other merchants, so it may take some time, but it will reach your family home properly."
"...."
Jerold's mouth fell open.
She had been in a position to send letters home?
"Her husband is a very good man. When I left, the two of them looked incredibly happy. Of course, you probably won't believe me just from hearing it. You'll want to see for yourself."
Kenson continued with a cheerful smile.
"A merchant will be heading to that village soon. They produce exceptionally good meat there, so unlike other villages, we visit more frequently for trade. You can come with us then and see for yourself."
Jerold felt as though he had been bewitched. He stood there dazed until Kenson patted his shoulder.
"I'm glad someone as capable as you is willing to work for so little. Now I can finally go see my wife. People without ability can't be hired if I want to leave my post. I'm very pleased. Let's do our best for the next five years."
Just then, the servant came to call them for the meal.
"Since this man will be working here from now on, you can report anything to him."
"Oh my, congratulations, my lord. Then, about purchasing the missing supplies...."
When the servant spoke, Kenson handed Jerold a thick bundle of papers.
"This is the list of supplies to be distributed to the pioneer villages. It also includes items used in our household. You'll order based on this. If you don't know something, ask me. Don't guess. Now, let's eat while you look it over."
Jerold took the bundle and followed him into the next room, where a simple meal had been laid out. One side of the dining table was piled with documents. Kenson ate while reading through them.
It seemed table manners were not required in this mansion. Since his superior was working while eating, there was no point in Jerold being the only one observing etiquette. He began his meal while flipping through the papers in his hands.
"This time, we've finally found someone truly suited to the master."
The servant muttered with deep emotion.
* * *
Busy busy.
Popcorn darted back and forth in a fluster, following the baby spirit. The newly born baby spirit could fly without being taught. All spirits instinctively knew how to fly from the moment they were born.
But things like how to ride the wind, which grass was best for sleeping, or the finest sliding grass had to be learned through life. They also did not know at birth which animals were dangerous or which foods tasted bad.
Popcorn himself had once eaten unpleasant grass for a while because he did not know how to find the truly delicious kind.
Pipi!
Startled, Popcorn flew toward the baby spirit. While he had been lost in thought for a moment, the baby spirit was being swallowed by Pudding.
"Pipi! Pipipi!"
You bad slime! Spit out our baby spirit right now!
Popcorn tried to pull the baby out, but in the process of pushing Pudding with his feet, he too began to sink deeper into the slime.
"Pii...."
What should he do? It looked like both he and the baby would be eaten together.
"Oh dear, you've been eaten again."
At the sound of Dad's voice, Popcorn and the baby spirit were pulled free from Pudding by Dad's large, sparkling hand.
"Pii... pii...."
Popcorn held the baby spirit and flopped onto Dad's palm, crying. Dad muttered to himself.
"Babpul's body is all sticky because of Pudding."
"...Pii."
That name, Babpul, was something Dad's wife had said was not pretty. Every time Dad called the baby spirit Babpul, his wife made a sad face. She had suggested thinking of a new name, yet Dad kept calling the baby spirit Babpul every time.
The baby spirit tilted its head with a soft pi, pi sound. It seemed to think Babpul was strange too.
Popcorn hugged the baby spirit and flew up to Dad's face, shouting.
"Pipi!"
Dad, I really don't think the name Babpul is pretty. Please give us a new name.
"Yeah, you're both cute."
Dad smiled gently.