To the East Once More (3)
The eastern lands, the domain of Count Agon. The count’s household bustled with its usual morning energy. Servants hauled water, stoked fires in the hearths, and pushed carts back and forth, their busy clamor filling the entire manor. The atmosphere, which had grown subdued after the battle with the Behemoth, was slowly regaining its former vitality thanks to the guests who had arrived from the west.
“Marion, could you help me with this?”
That guest—Marion Bourdin—was currently experiencing what could only be described as the busiest period of her life. With those vivid blue eyes of hers, she tried to take in every single task unfolding inside the kitchen.
“Yes, I’d be happy to help.”
The roles of dedicated instructors had been willingly assumed by Countess Irina Agon and Baroness Catherine Apparte—Maxim’s mother.
“You’ve learned how to brew tea quite well by now. Would you like to try it yourself?”
Countess Irina Agon placed tea leaves in Marion’s hands and asked in a gentle voice. Over the past several months, Marion had brought a soft warmth to the once stark manor. The countess had taken a genuine liking to her. The mask that covered half of the girl’s face was of little importance to her.
It had all begun with Marion’s own request. Feeling indebted for their hospitality, she had asked if she might help with any tasks. The countess had initially been puzzled. A child with a dark expression whose face was half-hidden behind a mask. Her first reaction had been hesitation, yet she ultimately could not refuse and gave her permission.
Even so, Marion—who had grown up largely unaware of her father’s cold-heartedness—could hardly have been of much practical use. That was why the countess had suggested she learn the basics of household management. From then on, the baroness, who had already been secretly assisting with the count’s household affairs, and Countess Irina became Marion’s new tutors. Before long, the countess had become both Marion’s friend and her greatest supporter.
“That’s right. Remember that if you steep the leaves in water that’s still too hot, the tea will turn bitter. You’ve remembered that well.”
Watching Marion wait patiently for the water to cool to the proper temperature, the countess offered praise. Marion’s face flushed bright red. The servants passing by sent warm glances toward the pair, who looked almost like mother and daughter.
“You praise me far too much.”
“Not at all, Marion. You’re learning wonderfully. I never had time to sit quietly like this and talk about household matters with my own daughter. Teaching you makes me think I should have done the same with her.”
Countess Irina’s lips curved into a soft smile. Marion was at a loss for how to respond to such kindness. Knowing this, the countess only cherished her more, hoping the girl would grow accustomed to gentle affection.
How could the Bourdin family have cast aside such a child?
The countess’s expression shifted from pity to quiet anger, then to warm fondness. The finely chopped tea leaves filled the strainer. Today’s black tea promised to be so lovely that it almost seemed a shame to serve it to her husband.
Water poured through the strainer with a soft gurgle. The leaves soaked, and a faint aroma began to drift through the air.
“Of course I could leave the preparation to the servants, even when serving the count… but I prefer to do the morning tea myself. Others might say that a countess has no business doing housework, but…”
Slice, slice. Marion was peeling an apple. The countess gave a light nod as she watched the neat strips fall away.
“It was a political marriage, yet we were happy. At least, I never thought my marriage was unhappy simply because it had been arranged for political reasons. My husband was always sincere with me, and I was sincere with him.”
Before she realized it, Countess Irina was reminiscing about the past and sharing the story of her own marriage. Though Marion’s gaze remained fixed on the apple she was peeling, her blue eyes gradually began to sparkle with interest as she listened.
“Don’t you have someone like that, Marion?”
A question she had never asked before. Marion flinched at the sudden inquiry, her face turning scarlet. Like the apple peel, a flush spread across her pale cheeks.
“Yes. Though I’m not sure I deserve such a person.”
The words came out like an excuse, and Marion lowered her head self-consciously. The countess gently placed a hand on top of it.
“It’s all right, Marion. You don’t need to worry about whether you deserve someone or not.”
To think there could be a man who wouldn’t dare to love such an adorable child. If such a man existed, the countess thought, she would step forward and give him a taste of something very bitter indeed.
Marion unconsciously reached for her mask, then realized what she was doing and quickly lowered her hand.
“That’s a small matter. Does this man of yours even mind the mask?”
Marion shook her head vigorously.
“No, not at all.”
She pictured Maxim’s face. She recalled the words he had spoken to her amid the sunset ruins. They had both carried wounds, and rather than tearing away the bandages to reveal them, they had chosen to wrap them more gently and help each other forget the pain. The feelings Maxim showed her were never shallow pity or one-sided sympathy.
Marion knew him, yet she still wasn’t certain whether she was truly helping him. What she did remember was his warm smile, the way his cheeks would flush slightly at her actions, and the expression on his face as he slipped a ring onto the fourth finger of her left hand.
Marion glanced down at her left hand. The ring—the ring that carried their promise—still shone on her finger.
At Marion’s resolute attitude, Countess Irina’s smile deepened. Anyone could see that the light in the girl’s eyes was one of complete trust in the person she loved.
“Yes. Then there’s no reason to feel discouraged, is there?”
It was only a small bit of certainty. The fault clearly lay with the fiancé who had left this child behind and not shown his face once. The countess decided she would give that fiancé a small piece of her mind when she saw him.
“Yes…”
All sorts of memories swirled through Marion’s mind. Maxim saying he was leaving. Maxim who had not returned for a long time even after news came from No Man’s Land. The group that had attacked the Apparte lands, and the people who had come to protect Maxim’s family.
“It will be all right.”
Marion lifted her head and met Countess Irina’s gaze. Because the countess was slightly taller, Marion’s chin tilted up just a little.
“If you’re worried, you can tell me, Marion. You don’t have to suffer alone.”
“I hope he’s safe.”
Marion finally spoke the words she had rarely voiced.
“I hope… my fiancé Maxim returns safely.”
The countess was not unaware of the situation. The girl’s fiancé, who had vanished after the war with the Behemoth. From what her husband had told her, it was this girl’s fiancé who had cut off the Behemoth’s head. In that case, he was practically a benefactor to her, her husband, and the entire domain. The countess, too, hoped Maxim was safe.
Marion could not possibly know that. All the countess could offer were vague reassurances. The only one who could truly put the child at ease was her fiancé himself, by appearing before her.
Marion closed her eyes. Whenever worry crept in, she always thought of the ring on her left hand. She hated the thought of collapsing again and worrying others; she hated becoming helpless herself. She tried not to fall. Therefore, she had decided not to lean on anyone. She would not whine. She would stand up alone.
“Are you all right?”
“…Yes. Thank you for your concern.”
Marion shook her head and composed her expression. Contrary to appearances, Marion possessed a steadfast core. There was something clear and solid that supported her. She clenched her left hand tightly.
The countess did not dismiss Marion’s resolve. Instead, she simply made sure the girl could turn her attention elsewhere for a while.
“Now, shall we try the next thing…”
The countess’s hands moved toward the butter. Marion silently thanked her for the consideration and focused on the woman’s movements.
Breakfast preparations were completed not long afterward. Praising Marion, who had become rather skilled by now, the countess smiled.
“Thank you for helping again today.”
The countess placed lids over the finished breakfast. Early morning sunlight streamed into the kitchen. The meal Marion and the countess had prepared was loaded onto a cart.
“I’ll carry it myself.”
The countess waved the servants away and placed her hands on the cart. Then, as if something had just occurred to her, she turned to Marion. Marion was neatly folding the apron she had taken off.
“Oh, that’s right. I heard that a merchant caravan from the royal capital heading to No Man’s Land will arrive sometime this morning.”
“A merchant… caravan?”
The countess nodded.
“Yes. Every major trading company in the capital is taking part. There should be quite a few goods arriving for our domain as well. My husband and I will be rather busy today.”
The countess gave a soft, delighted chuckle.
“That being the case, the baroness doesn’t need to help today either. Why don’t the two of you go watch the caravan together? With a procession that large, there should be plenty to see.”
Marion smiled at Countess Irina, who had winked at her.
“Thank you for your consideration.”
“Consideration? It’s our family that’s terrible, putting our guest to work.”
The countess laughed playfully. The sound of the cart wheels rumbling away followed as she departed. Marion watched the countess go, absently returning the servants’ morning greetings while thinking about the merchant caravan that would arrive today.
==
“A merchant caravan, you say? How exciting.”
Upon hearing the news, Baroness Catherine Apparte set down her shears, her face brightening. Soil and trimmed leaves clung to her clothes from helping in the garden. Her simple, unpretentious smile suited her well. Looking into those golden eyes, Marion thought that she and Maxim truly resembled each other.
“My lady, why don’t you rest today and go out with Miss Marion to enjoy the sights?”
The gardeners who had been trimming the garden alongside her looked up and spoke. Their expressions were uniformly kind. Setting aside the fact that she was a noblewoman who never hesitated to dirty her hands, her gardening skills were genuinely impressive. Few professional gardeners could match her ability.
“But…”
“We’re perfectly fine. If anything, it was strange that we were receiving help from you, my lady.”
“We always feel guilty accepting your assistance, so please take today to enjoy the domain without worry.”
The gardeners insisted. Catherine could not hide her apologetic expression as she removed her straw hat.
“Then… I’ll go out for a while.”
The gardeners nodded with smiles. Catherine glanced at them once more before heading back to the manor with Marion.
“We should get ready to go out.”
Perhaps embarrassed by the bit of dirt on her cheek, Catherine gave an awkward smile. The preparations afterward did not take long. By the time Catherine had finished dressing and Marion had completed her own preparations to go out, word reached the manor that the merchant caravan had arrived.
“Shall we depart, then?”
The person accompanying Marion and Catherine in the carriage was a female knight serving as Countess Irina’s escort. Having been told she could treat today like a holiday, she wore only light armor.
The carriage rattled forward. It had been quite some time since Marion’s last outing, and her expression brightened with life.
“Are you learning well from the countess?”
At Catherine’s question, Marion nodded.
“She could be a little stricter. I’m worried that she only praises me, so I won’t improve properly.”
“I wonder if there’s anyone in this world who could teach you with true strictness.”
Catherine laughed. As Maxim’s mother, such a position was only natural. She simply, purely, liked this girl named Marion.
“How is the restoration progressing?”
The escort seemed slightly surprised to be asked a question, raising her eyebrows before answering.
“It is going smoothly. Once the goods arriving today are distributed, I believe we can say the domain has nearly returned to its pre-battle condition.”
The escort shrugged, saying that some residents choosing to leave was unavoidable.
“After suffering such a massive battle, it’s only natural some would want to relocate. The count had anticipated this to some degree.”
A domain located so close to the frontier had to be prepared for such things at any time. That was the escort’s conclusion.
“…I was with the count and countess during their evacuation, so I did not witness the battle directly. But seeing the aftermath left me utterly shocked.”
The escort smiled bitterly.
“It must have been thanks to the desperate efforts of the knights—including your son, my lady—that this domain was able to remain intact.”
The escort did not know that Maxim was the one who had slain the Behemoth. She only knew that he had been among those who had fought desperately to halt the monsters’ advance. For that reason, she held no objections to protecting his family like this.
Catherine offered a faint smile. Maxim’s whereabouts were still unknown, but whenever positive stories about her son arose, she could not help but smile with pride.
“Ah, I can see the caravan now.”
The escort looked out the window. Both Catherine’s and Marion’s eyes widened. Dozens—no, perhaps hundreds—of caravans and carriages were streaming through the castle gates into the domain. Merchants set down their loads, conversed with the guards, shouted orders to laborers, and created a tremendous commotion.
The carriage gradually slowed. It stopped on a hill overlooking a bridge that offered a clear view of the procession.
“I will wait here in the afternoon. You may return at your convenience.”
“Thank you for your service.”
The escort sent the driver away and moved to stand beside Marion and Catherine as they watched the caravan.
“There really are so many. I couldn’t quite picture it from just hearing about it.”
“I’m glad we came to see it.”
Marion let out small sounds of wonder as she gazed at the procession. Wooden crates were being unloaded endlessly from the caravans whose final destination was Count Agon’s domain. The adventurers escorting the carriages gripped their weapons and glared sharply at anyone who approached.
They look frightening…
Among the grim-looking adventurers, Marion’s eyes caught one particular figure.
…Huh?
Beside a burly, bald adventurer stood a tall man wearing a black hood and carrying a longsword. He appeared to be looking toward the bridge—toward where Marion and Catherine stood. For the briefest moment, the wind lifted the edge of his hood, revealing his face to Marion.
She saw pitch-black eyes.
Marion unconsciously frowned and took a step back.
…What a strange person.
She tried to calm the strangely unpleasant feeling that had come over her.