Chapter 97
Chapter 97
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 97
Chapter Title: Good News and Bad News
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The path was set.
Romandro kept scratching away at his pen until the candle had completely melted down. He was writing up the Merelrof Count's usual behavior along with the full details of the incident—without a single lie, but slanted as favorably as possible toward them—until his eyes nearly popped out.
Rustle.
"Lord Romandro. Should I leave this here?"
"Ah, Hanna. Yes, please do."
It was the testimony from the Merelrof estate servants. Most of them were illiterate, so it only bore their thumbprints, but it would serve as proof of the lady's innocence and Dive's pilgrimage.
"Still, the central folks are going to be pretty shocked."
"Naturally. The count was killed by a slave overnight, and his only heir, his brother, is a heretic who believes in the underground gods."
"That's not all. They'll be surprised you sold gulla seeds in Merelrof too. The reply to the report hasn't mentioned anything about gulla's suitability for mass consumption yet."
"A reply from the capital?"
At Ian's question, Romandro hesitated for a moment. From his demeanor, it didn't seem like a positive response.
"They said to send Lord Molin up to the capital first."
"Prince Marib did?"
"Yes."
"This is bad."
Ian clicked his tongue in genuine frustration. This was a clear sign of who the winner and loser were in the power struggle between Marib and Gail.
"It's disappointing, but not a huge problem. They're not exactly precious cargo, so I'll have a carriage prepared right away."
"You sure? We'll end up meeting again in the capital if you do."
"What can we do? By the time we meet again, our positions will be set in stone."
Ian was a noble and a mage. Molin was an executive in the administrative branch.
The difference was obvious.
"Anyway, the capital says gulla isn't approved for food use yet. A lot of people are going to struggle through this winter."
"What about the gulla that's already being grown in Merelrof?"
The count had bought them to distribute as rations, and the seeds were still piled high in the warehouse. To put it bluntly, disaster had struck before the ink on the contracts had even dried.
"Well, we've already been paid, so we should follow the lady's wishes."
"The lady seemed eager to distribute them quickly, grow more, and have plenty to eat."
"Then do that. And fully liberalize gulla trade for our territory's residents too."
That meant including not just roasted gulla, but raw gulla suitable for cultivation in the trades. Romandro set down his pen and glanced at the chest in one corner of the office.
"Two chests already. I'll have to head to the bank again soon. How much, I wonder? Around 200 gold coins per chest, maybe."
Ian started calculating at Romandro's mutterings. Add those small incomes to the 3,500 coins from gulla trades and the 5,000-coin reward from the lady, and they'd already covered most of the tribute.
"Congratulations. At this rate, you'll pay off the full tribute before next summer. Then you'll be a true noble. Ah, I'll be sure to use honorifics with you then."
"Speak freely. Helping me like this is favor enough."
Romandro's cheeks lifted into a grin at Ian's sincere praise. He poured his heart into every letter of the report headed for the palace.
"By the way, once Merelrof is wrapped up, we should pack and head out too. Leaving in a fortnight should get us to the capital with time to spare."
"Sounds good. I don't have much luggage anyway, and not many people coming along."
It wasn't a full relocation—just Ian and a few companions. His belongings would fit in one carriage. He planned to stay at Romandro's residence in the capital, so packing heavily would just be a nuisance. The only retainer coming was Berik.
"Let's see, is that everything to sort out?"
Romandro asked as he organized the thick stack of documents. From the volume, no single messenger bird could handle it.
"By the way, what about your mother?"
"My mother?"
"Philia. Didn't you say she was still living in the forest?"
"Ah. I asked her to come down to the village, but she didn't seem interested. She said she'd only do it if she couldn't handle the cold, so for now, I plan to ask the village woodcutters to check on her when they pass by."
The name Bratz was gone, and the village had changed a lot from the battle scars. But to Philia, it was still a happy, nostalgic hometown, and she seemed fully immersed in her forest life.
"Still, you won't see her for a long time once you go to the capital."
"We wouldn't see each other much even if she came along."
"True. The Magic Department won't leave you alone anyway. Ah, sorry. That's just my personal guess."
Romandro smiled awkwardly after muttering without thinking. But Ian caught the meaning right away.
"I think so too. Minister Wesley, was it? He'll be fuming, whether it's a boon or a poison for him. Might get torn to shreds."
"Right. Mages who go out at dawn to watch the moonrise and come back stargazing. Even if you bring your mother, you won't be able to care for her properly."
That meant heavy training and workloads. But Ian had experienced it before, so he didn't dwell on it. He could always return to his old post before being assigned to the Magic Department.
"Berik still hasn't come back. What on earth is he doing?"
Romandro muttered, looking out at the darkening sky. It had been half a day since he'd gone to pursue Puulu, thought to be the captain of Merelrof's Three Knights. No sign of return was worrisome, naturally.
"Warriors went with him?"
"Yes. If something happened, a hawk would have flown back. Let's wait until tonight. Lord Romandro, once the report's done, please check the Hawan caravans next."
"Ah, right. Got it."
Handling Dive's aftermath, which Lady Rien had worried about, fell to the Hawan Kingdom. More precisely, to a caravan heading to the Tollun Kingdom via Hawan.
"I wonder if there's a good one."
"Cost isn't an issue—reliable and responsible is best. Probably stick to established caravans."
"Travel method?"
Romandro's eyes narrowed. There were various ways to entrust transport. Traveling alongside like Su had sneaked, under strict escort, or...
"Something secure."
"Agreed."
Like transporting a prisoner, locked down tight.
That seemed to fit Dive best.
"A pilgrim must endure suffering and hardship, right?"
Romandro burst into loud laughter for the first time in a while at Ian's joke.
"What about funding?"
"They said they'd sell Dive's estate in Merelrof to cover costs. Better to settle it soon—before we leave. I'll have my subordinate finalize it tomorrow."
"Tell Lady Rien to add that they're responsible for getting Dive to Hawan, and all the way to Tollun."
"Hm. Adding that extra measure is smart."
'Personally, Clark seems perfect, but that's her choice.'
Troops were stationed along the route to Hawan. The misunderstanding from Erica's appearance—that she was a bandit—hadn't been cleared up yet. Erica and the investigation team had vanished amid the chaos, with no news.
"And Hanna."
"Yes?"
Hanna had been eavesdropping while moving miscellaneous supplies around. Ian beckoned her closer.
"Did you catch all that?"
"Uh... It wasn't exactly secret talk, was it?"
"Right. So burn it into your head. Learn it all properly over the next fortnight while we wrap things up."
"Learn what properly?"
"Starting tomorrow, go back and forth to Merelrof and ask the steward to teach you the duties."
Hanna's face showed she didn't understand. She just blinked and tilted her head. Romandro snorted with laughter watching from the side.
"Me? The steward's duties?"
"Yes."
"Me? Me? Am I the steward?"
"Your instincts are way off."
Hanna covered her mouth with both hands, but her gaping jaw was still visible. Proof she'd never even considered it.
A steward had to be versed in noble etiquette and systems, literate, and able to perfectly manage the estate in the master's absence.
"I... I can't do it."
"Why not?"
"I haven't learned anything..."
"That's why I'm telling you to learn. His name's Samon. He's capable, so you'll pick up a lot. Anything else?"
It was a firm reply: accept if there were no other reasons. Hanna stood blankly for a moment before muttering.
"Can I run down the hall a bit?"
"Sure. No one's sleeping yet."
"Excuse me."
Click.
Hanna gave an unusually polite bow and left the office. Immediately, the patter of footsteps echoed—her sprinting joyfully down the hall.
Romandro shook off his laughter.
"Really. Can she handle it like that?"
"Hanna's reliable. Plenty of people to cover any gaps in her skills. There's Lady Nersarn, and two of your subordinates staying, right?"
"I planned for just one, but with Merelrof like this, the palace will surely send confirmations and orders. I told them to report back after."
"I heard the ones staying are unmarried."
"Tough luck. Who said not to get married?"
Ian let out a soft chuckle at Romandro's playful retort. With that, the office filled only with the pleasant scratch of pen on parchment again.
Tap tap. Tap.
Night deepened. Something tapped at the window. A black hawk, blending with the darkness, glared with golden eyes, calling for Ian.
"Oh no."
"A warrior's hawk?"
What they'd said half-jokingly—that a hawk would come if Berik had trouble—had come true. Ian opened the window and let the hawk in. A small note was tied to its ankle.
Rustle.
"What does it say? Berik's not dead, is he?"
Romandro stood and asked, but Ian just wore a strange expression without answering. He soon showed the note and shrugged.
"Guess the warriors with him aren't fluent in Bariel."
-Berik. Knight. Monne. Pursuit. Forever.
Just a string of words conveying the situation—who could make sense of it? Even sharp-minded as they were, pooling heads yielded no guesses.
"Either way, it's a problem."
"That's clear enough."
"Monne— that mine over there?"
"Yes. The chase must have gone that far."
Not in the territory, but deep in the mountains bordering Merelrof and their lands.
"We have to check it out?"
Romandro asked in a creeping whisper. Parchments piled like mountains beside him. Ink scent thick enough to drown out the fireplace.
Ian grabbed a thick overcoat and shook his head.
"You handle the work, Lord Romandro. Only a fortnight left—we need to hustle. I'll go for Berik. Anyone outside?"
"Yes, Lord Ian. You called?"
"Prepare a carriage and escorts."
"This late? Where to?"
The servant startled and asked, but Ian just smiled brightly while straightening his clothes.
"Monne. Picking up Berik."