The Baron's Gift (1)
"I hear the boy named James has a talent for magic."
"I heard the same, standing right beside him."
"Can you handle it?"
"What do you mean by that, Father? Do you imagine James and I are going to fight?"
"One never knows."
"What would you have me do, then?"
Only then did Roy understand why the Baron had summoned him.
It was a warning: do not cause any unnecessary trouble.
If Roy so much as broke one of James's arms, that would be exactly what Benjamin wanted. That was how the Baron saw it.
He's two years older than me, and with the blood of a margrave he must have an enormous mana pool. And yet Father thinks I would win?
Roy did not mind the high regard. It was not empty praise for a son; it was an assessment based on real ability.
"I'll do my best."
"Good. You may go."
I'll do my best, all right. Not at holding my temper—at not getting caught.
Roy slipped quietly out of the study.
Benjamin was not the only guest who had come to the manor to celebrate Roy's seventh birthday.
Nobles from within the territory arrived, as did visitors from neighboring lands and even from farther afield. Of course, the only one who brought a child with him was Benjamin.
Following the Baron's orders, Roy was careful not to give James any cause for conflict. In truth, they rarely crossed paths. Roy had not yet officially entered noble society, so whenever guests arrived he merely exchanged brief greetings while the Baron and Baroness carried the real conversations.
Three days passed in a blur, and at last the birthday banquet began.
"He takes after the Baron—his looks are every bit as fine as the rumors claimed. And to think that tiny body brought down a fearsome ogre. Truly astonishing."
"Haha, you flatter him. He still has much to learn. Well? Offer your respects."
What kind of birthday party is this...? All day long, nothing but greetings with strangers whose faces I don't even know...
The stress was no joke. In his previous life, people had instinctively kept their distance from him as a child; once he became a viscount he had simply avoided occasions like this. This life, however, offered no such luxury. He had sworn he would not hide. Even so, resolve did not make the task any easier.
Roy spent the hours exchanging the same polite phrases with a parade of unfamiliar nobles, wondering how many of them he would even remember. Listening to one soulless blessing after another, he finally saw the party crawl toward its end.
"We will now begin the presentation of gifts in honor of Young Master Roy Greenhilt's seventh birthday."
One by one the maids approached the raised platform where Roy stood, each bearing a present. These were the gifts that had been formally confirmed in advance.
Finally starting to feel like a birthday.
Each time a gift was unveiled, the hall erupted in varied reactions. Because the senders had specifically requested public display, many of the items were extravagant and valuable—only natural when they would be revealed before so many watching nobles.
There was a ceremonial dagger said to have been recovered from an ancient dungeon. There were potions of the highest grade, the sort that money alone could never buy. There was even a precious magic stone claimed from a notorious monster. Yet the most common gift, by far, was a sword. Fitting for the Steel Kingdom, blades forged by renowned smiths from every corner of the realm arrived as presents—some brought in person by the nobles attending the party.
"This is different from the spring gathering, isn't it?"
"Indeed. Nearly twice as many, it seems."
The sheer volume of gifts set the nobles murmuring. They had already seen the mountains of wrapped parcels stacked in one corner of the main reception hall. Those who remembered Anna's birthday party only a few months earlier were especially stunned by the dramatic change.
"The rumor that he slew an ogre must have spread far and wide."
"Is that the only reason? No—it's because of that other thing."
"Ah, that."
"They say nobles are lining up to curry favor with the Baron over those weapons."
While the looser-tongued guests whispered among themselves, the gift presentation drew near its close. From this point on only three kinds of presents remained: those of extraordinary value, those sent by persons of extraordinary rank—or both.
"Next, a gift from Sir Benjamin Biswald. Despite his many duties, His Lordship has honored us with his presence and brightened this occasion."
"Oooh!"
With a man of such high standing standing right there, the crowd's reaction shifted even before the gift was revealed. Once it was shown, admiration and praise of "as expected" and "of course" followed thick and fast.
"Truly a magnificent piece."
"Look at that crest. I have never seen a sword of such refined elegance."
"Indeed. The claim that the finest smiths in the kingdom gather in Biswald territory is clearly no exaggeration."
For the first time, Roy's eyes lit up.
Oh—that sword!
Anyone could see it was a masterpiece worthy of the name. A touch too ornate, perhaps, but if Roy enchanted it the value would soar beyond measure.
But if I sell it, the truth will come out at once.
Since he could not dispose of it, the blade was destined to become an expensive white elephant—far too fine for everyday use.
The guests, however, were startled by something else: two gifts still remained. One, of course, would be from the Baron and Baroness. The other was what truly intrigued them. Who could have sent a present that would be unveiled after Sir Benjamin's? Or was the item itself that remarkable?
Under the weight of every gaze, the next gift was revealed. It was the Baron's, and it too was a sword.
"Hmm... not bad, but..."
"Still, the one Sir Benjamin brought..."
People chose their words carefully; no one wished to offend either party.
"Thank you, Father. Mother."
Roy's expression of gratitude to his parents dissolved the awkwardness, and applause filled the hall. To Roy himself the gift was nothing special.
I'll extract free leave privileges tomorrow, separately.
At last came the final present. This time the Baron himself stepped forward instead of the steward. Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"What kind of gift requires the lord himself to...?"
"More importantly, who on earth could have sent it?"
Every eye fixed on him as the Baron spoke.
"His Majesty the King, absolute sovereign of our Steel Kingdom, has personally sent a gift. As his vassal, what day could be more auspicious than this?"
Eyes widened all around. The king sending a gift for the mere third son of a baron? It was unthinkable. In truth the most astonished person present was the Baron himself. The package had arrived late the previous night. He had been annoyed at being woken in the dark, only to find himself speechless once he learned the truth. He had barely slept, waiting for this very moment.
"What are you waiting for? Come down and kneel."
"Ah—yes, sir."
Roy hurried off the platform and knelt before the Baron, who held the gift. Every noble present bowed their heads in respect.
The Baron read aloud the royal letter that had accompanied the present.
That one so young should have felled a vicious ogre threatening Our people fills Us with deep admiration for both his cunning and his courage. We can scarcely believe this is a child who has not yet even stepped into society. Do not let that wisdom go to waste. Strive, train, and advance—become a treasure of this Steel Kingdom.
The hall fell deathly silent. Everyone understood: the king would never have sent a gift merely because he heard a rumor about a little boy. Maintaining power required influence—for a king no less than for any other noble.
Roy carefully received the gift and unwrapped it himself. Like the others, it had been sent with the expectation that its nature would be revealed before the assembled nobility.
"Oooh!"
The cheers rose, yet what emerged was nothing particularly grand. It was neither ornate nor expensive. To a great lord it might almost have felt like a shackle. It was a medal.
"A medal already, for a child so young?"
"To be fair... slaying an ogre is no small achievement."
Some were openly shocked, but those who knew the true nature of royal medals kept their mouths shut. A medal was an efficient way to bestow praise without spending real treasure. No gold, no land, no title—nothing drained the royal coffers more thriftily. In short, it was what the king awarded when he wished to offer praise without substance.
That did not make it unprestigious. The personal letter proved Roy's name had been spoken inside the palace.
But the real target is the Baron.
He wants those enchanted weapons.
The nobles who moved in central politics each turned the matter over in their minds, calculating in silence.