Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing — Chapter 77
Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing — Chapter 77
The next day.
A letter arrived at House Bydantis.
“Who sent it?”
“I-It’s a letter from Young Lord Lion Asteri himself.”
“Hm.”
Marquis Clarentia accepted the letter and read its contents unhurriedly.
In short, it said this.
He had originally intended to pay his respects immediately, but due to a health issue, he would rest briefly nearby and visit afterward.
“I see.”
Marquis Clarentia nodded without much change in expression.
“Wh-What should we do? He said he’s unwell, so should we not at least send a carriage to fetch him? What’s more…”
The head butler could not bring himself to continue.
Frankly, this could be seen as “rude conduct.”
With good reason, too.
After all, with business to discuss, hadn’t Lion simply sent a letter without showing his face, saying, “I’ll come later”?
Though he was the eldest son of the Prestigious Mage Family, Lion was still no more than the scion of a noble house with no title of his own.
“Where is Young Lord Lion staying?”
“They said he’s staying at an inn in the territory, but no one has seen his face.”
“…”
“Well, my lady? What shall we do?”
The head butler asked while studying Clarentia’s expression.
“Shall we bring him at once?”
“No, that won’t be necessary.”
The head butler mustered his courage and stole a glance at Clarentia’s face.
But he could not read the depths behind it at all.
‘Poor young lady…’
It was only a few years ago.
That is, before the previous marquis passed away so suddenly, Lady Clarentia had not been as cold as eyes of frost.
The head butler recalled his days as the youngest butler.
‘Can those wounds be ordinary wounds?’
The handmaids who had always looked after her and cherished her had betrayed her, and the siblings born from the same womb had killed one another.
That vicious bloodshed had reached Lady Clarentia as well.
Poisonings, assassination attempts, sudden fires, and monster attacks.
Hardship far too great for someone who was once merely a beautiful young lady bore down upon her.
She had endured it all somehow and ultimately reached the fearsome height of Sword Master, but…
Because of that ordeal, she had grown as cold as a person devoid of emotion.
An aura more frigid than a frost giant was thrown in for good measure.
The first time that young lady had begun to stir was at the coming-of-age ceremony of the Asteri family’s eldest son.
Lion Asteri’s Coming-of-Age Ceremony.
Hearing that something had happened there as well, he had worried a great deal…
“A tailor from the Asteri Territory will arrive soon.”
“Pardon? A tailor, did you say?”
“I commissioned clothing.”
That was unexpected.
Ever since that day, the family head had never wanted anything for herself.
Until now, she had done only what she “had to do as family head.”
Meals focused solely on replenishing nutrients.
The minimum sleep. Endless training.
Hunting monsters for the safety of the territory’s people.
Yet that very family head had ordered “clothing” for herself.
Through Lion Asteri.
‘Could it be that the family head has found a friend she gets along with?’
Lion Asteri.
Though he was widely rumored to be an eccentric, he was not, he had heard, a dangerous man.
Moreover, the Asteri heir was his younger brother, Rickshel Asteri, was it not?
And so the head butler, who had watched over the family head since she was a young lady, wore an expression tinged with anticipation.
Perhaps these two might form a good relationship.
Perhaps the family head would no longer have to walk a precarious tightrope alone.
That was what he thought.
And that thought… was still valid.
“We-ell, my lady.”
“…?”
Clarentia lifted her head and looked at the head butler.
A blade-sharp gaze, unmingled with a speck of emotion.
Even the head butler, who had known her since childhood, instinctively shrank back, but he summoned his courage and spoke.
“Ah… For the next few days, your duties are relatively light, so how about going ahead to see him first?”
“I should?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Hmm…”
The head butler wrung his brain as hard as he could.
“W-Well, receiving guests is part of the domain lord’s role. And, at the same time, it would be a patrol, and a chance to see how well the territory’s people are living… I thought it might be a good idea, so…”
Clarentia offered no particular response.
Is it a refusal? His heart pounded with anxiety.
“Very well.”
“…!”
Color bloomed on the head butler’s face.
Yes! Now that the chance was here, the marquis should live and breathe a little too.
The head butler could not hide his beaming expression and briefly lowered his head before lifting it again.
“Then I shall prepare your clothes.”
Still, this was a marquis household in name.
No matter how much she had commissioned clothes because she had nothing to wear, the basic wardrobe was sufficiently prepared alrea…
“…My lady?”
The window stood wide open.
“Ah?”
The curtains billowed violently in the cold wind.
And he realized that the marquis, who had been speaking with him moments ago, had vanished.
The head butler, searching for someone already gone, hurried to the terrace.
Surely not…
You didn’t go out just like that, did you, my lady?
“Oh, please!”
The head butler pressed a hand to his forehead.
No matter what, there were still quite a lot of enemies outside!
Of course, he did not believe she was someone who would fall into danger… but it was only natural to worry as someone who had served her for a long time.
Moreover…
The marquis was remarkably clumsy in everyday matters!
Should he go looking for her even now? The head butler, who had the thought, soon stopped himself.
‘No. She is going to meet Young Lord Lion Asteri regardless, so it will work out one way or another.’
From what he’d heard, the young lord had come with quite reliable escorts. And if a tailor was coming as well… yes.
‘Far better to prepare to welcome them.’
The head butler forcibly steadied his thumping heart and clenched his fist.
Please, take good care of our marquis!
* * *
<Oak Barrel Pickles>
With its old sign hanging outside, this was the oldest tavern in the territory.
Perhaps because of that, or perhaps because life was harsh, many people came to Oak Barrel Pickles to drink even in broad daylight.
The dry, brittle weather—and a life no less harsh.
The only thing that moistened them was a swallow of golden liquid.
It was, after all, their sole pleasure.
“Kwaah! This is what I live for.”
A burly man’s throat bobbed a few times, and the beer in his massive cup vanished entirely.
Only after he’d shaken out and gulped down the remaining foam did the man set his mug down with a weighty thud, in hearty fashion.
“Goodness, gulping it down like that in broad daylight?”
The proprietor scolded the man.
“It’s fine. That fellow’s a dwarf, so he can hold his drink.”
“Right, right.”
Patrons seated elsewhere all added a word as well.
“Hmph. Enough of that! Another.”
The man, far too large to be a dwarf, pretended not to hear and held out his mug. A new beer filled his thick hand, and once more it rushed coolly down his throat and vanished in gulps.
“If it weren’t for this, how could I endure this harsh world?”
The man, feeling slightly better, laughed heartily and leaned against the bar.
“Still, drink in moderation. It’s not one or two fellows who’ve gone to the Underworld from the drink.”
“That’s humans for you.”
“Tsk, even for a dwarf, too much drink is poison. More to the point, is the mood in the village still bad?”
“You mean that village?”
The man lifted his empty glass and set it down again.
“…Well, the elders, the folk my age. They’re all worn out lately, I suppose.”
I’m worn out too, you know. The dwarf, muttering that, leaned right over the bar, took out the liquor himself, and began gulping it down.
“Tsk, don’t you have anything stronger?”
“Good fellow! How can you guzzle like this while it’s still broad daylight! Times like this, you’re the one who should pull yourself together!”
“Ugh, enough of your nagging…”
The moment the dwarf was about to fire back at the proprietor.
Chug—!
“Found you.”
The moment the door opened, a beautiful voice rarely heard in these parts rang out.
Not a voice made rough by the storms of life, but a youthful voice full of vigor.
Even more so if it was a man’s voice.
Because that usually meant a greenhorn.
“Hmm?”
Just as expected, a hooded youth, who had apparently just come in, stood before the tavern door looking this way.
His deeply drawn hood hid the precise lines of his features, but it was plain that his face was smooth and fine-featured—he looked just like the young master of a wealthy house.
“Are you the dwarf?”
Ah, so that’s why he came.
A young master. And a stranger, at that. The reason for coming here was obvious.
To get his hands on a dwarf-made weapon.
Among the wealthy and the nobles, they treat a dwarf’s sword like treasure, so they say.
‘We make them to be used.’
Tch. They make things only to enshrine them.
The giant dwarf.
No—the dwarf village chief, Giant’s Stride—disliked that sort of greenhorn.
Meanwhile, instead of the grimacing dwarf, the tavern owner spoke with a good-natured smile.
“That’s right! This fellow here is the dwarf.”
“Hey!”
Despite Stride’s shouting, the owner stubbornly continued speaking to the young master.
“This friend is famously skilled at making swords.”
“…”
Stride well understood why the owner was meddling like this.
He must be worried.
Because ever since the day he put down his hammer, he’d done nothing but guzzle liquor here.
“Is that so? Seems I came to the right place.”
The young master approached without a trace of hesitation.
Naturally, he would be commissioning a sword.
He also seemed likely to offer generous compensation.
However.
‘No inspiration comes to me.’
Giant’s Stride was in a state where he could not make anything at all.
No, it was more accurate to say that the will itself had vanished.
And so, as he was thinking, “I appreciate the owner’s help, but I must refuse”—
“…Hm?”
Something caught Stride’s eye.
A small dagger secured to the thigh of this young master, who clearly had never wielded a weapon before.
‘This is…’
Though it was hard to see, hidden by the sheath and holder, he could tell from the hilt alone that it was no ordinary piece.
He suspected it might be one of the elders’ works from the village, but…
Something was strange.
‘In all my years I’ve never seen this style…’
Every blade that left the village for sale definitely passed before his eyes once, yet he had never seen a dagger like this.
Nor was it a matter of failing to recall.
The style was subtly different.
It was as if… so faintly that only an artisan could recognize it…
As Stride stared at the dagger as if spellbound,
the young master—no, Lion Asteri—grinned.
‘Right. I figured you’d be quite curious.’
Lion pulled out the dagger strapped to his thigh and thumped it onto the table.
“Seems you’re curious about this dagger.”
“It would be a lie to say I have no wish to see it.”
“Then let’s make a drinking bet. If you win, I’ll show it to you until you’re sick of it.”
Was there any need to make a bet just to show a dagger?
But—a drinking bet?
“A young master like you, with me? A drinking bet?”
Ha ha ha!
Laughter burst out from all around.
“Good heavens, young master! That fellow drinks by the gallon. By the gallon!”
“I’ve never once seen him drunk.”
“You’d best just show it to him before you bite off more than you can chew!”
Despite the laughter and dissuasion all around him, the young master, hood still drawn low, looked only at the huge man before him.
Stride tilted his head.
“…”
Peculiar confidence.
Yet, strangely, Stride did not dislike it.
Why was that? Was it that he could feel a subtly good energy from him?
‘Like the spirits I saw as a child…’
No, that was going too far.
At any rate, his instincts were telling him that this fellow was no bad sort.
“Ha! Fine. Then what do I put up?”
“I’d like you to bring me along as a guest to your village.”
“…Huh?”
Not to craft a sword, but to be let into the village?
‘I have no idea what’s going through his head.’
But—
It wasn’t bad.
It was a contest he could not lose, after all!
“No need to drag this out. Who pays for the drinks?”
“The loser.”
“Clean and simple. Owner! Bring us a bottle of Oak Barrel Pickles!”
At that confident shout, Lion donned a deep smile.
Good. Just as planned.