Making the Duke's Daughter Obsessed (2)
“Whew, Butler Cutlet. You holding up?”
“Not at all..! It's not hard in the slightest, sir!! I've always dreamed of serving you exactly like thiiis… ugh…”
The head butler, currently serving as my human chair, answered with all the vigor he could muster.
Goodness me. Not tired at all? What tragic news.
Creeeak. Creeeak…!
Hoping his suffering would deepen, I hugged the heavy soup bowl and the plate of meat steak against my chest.
“Ugh… ghh…!”
CRASH!
The butler's limit arrived, and he collapsed straight to the floor.
Immediately, a squad of muscular servants swarmed in and forced him back into proper kneeling position.
—“Fix your posture this instant!”
“Hii… hiik…!”
“Ahh~ my back hurts. That's enough, leave him. Go fetch a cushioned chair or something.”
—“Yes, sir!”
When I spotted the older brothers with their leather belts coming up from the basement, I felt a twinge of pity for the tear-and-snot-soaked butler and gave the order to call it quits.
“You can clock out for today, Butler. And while I'm staying here, make sure I never lay eyes on you again~.”
The moment the order fell, the butler flopped face-down and gulped for air.
“Haa… haa. I-I will remember this, Lord Evan… huk…”
“Ahh, good work, our dear butler.”
Clatter.
“What is the meaning of…?”
“W-well, judging by your appearance, you seem to be of common birth. This much should cover a day's work, don't you think?”
“…Ghh.”
“What, not enough?”
“N-no, sir…!”
Gathering up the silver coins I'd dropped with much wheezing, the butler left the dining hall, his face flushed scarlet.
Serves you right for getting lippy.
The moment Butler Cutlet left, the servants filed in line to attend to me.
—“A chair of the finest cowhide, sir.”
—“…A Valentine Brun, fourteen-year vintage.”
—“Baldon barbecue steak, renowned throughout the Empire.”
Baldon? Is that like some kind of premium pork?
I had no idea what it was, but the meat was damn good, and no matter how much I ate, I never got tired of it.
Ahh, after stuffing my face with freshwater sashimi and spicy fish stew every single day, eating land meat nearly brought tears to my eyes.
“By the way, this table is enormous.”
“…They say in the Asteria Empire, a family's prestige is measured by the size of its table.”
“Hey, why haven't you touched your food?”
“No appetite.”
“Then give it to me. My appetite's come back so hard it's driving me crazy.”
“All of it?”
“Yeah.”
Carla thinly sliced her own steak with her knife and gently slid it toward me.
“Now then, I trust that's quite enough to mend any wounded feelings. Young Evan.”
“Not bad at all… chew chew.”
“A betrothal to my daughter? If it is the will of the Founding Lord, I shall gladly honor it. However…”
“You'll pay for this hospitality. Is that the gist?”
“For a commoner, you know your manners rather well.”
I wiped my mouth roughly, patted my belly, and leaned back in my chair.
“Very well. Let's talk business.”
“Finally!”
The duke straightened up and dismissed all the servants.
When he tried to send Carla out too, I grabbed her hand and pulled her down right beside me.
“E-Evan..!?”
“The key to the Ballenstein family reclaiming its hegemony is Carla. Why would you send her out?”
“What?”
“Wh-what did you say?”
At my words, Albrecht Ballenstein and Carla gasped almost in unison.
“Let's have you treat Carla as your daughter again.”
“I'm afraid that, will of the Founding Lord or no, revoking the excommunication is simply impossible.”
“Why?”
“A divine oracle came down confirming that the letter she sent to Princess Iris contained no lies. What can I do? There's no way around it.”
“The oracle came through Saintess Estelle, correct?”
“That is so.”
I smiled inwardly.
Apparently the guy who'd possessed Adrian's body was straining to mimic the original story as closely as possible.
Either he was so obsessed with his daughter that he applied the all-clear save, or he just flat-out skipped the early-game content.
“By the way, that saintess. The Founding Lord said she seems to be… quite a problematic figure.”
“What did you say?”
“I hear her monsterization is already progressing?”
At my words, Carla drew her blade and pointed it at my throat.
“H-hey, Evan! That's going too far! What accusations are you trying to pin on a saintess who passed the Holy Church's trials?!”
“…”
Albrecht, even angrier than Carla, glared daggers into my face.
“Can you take responsibility for those words?”
“Responsibility, schmonsibility. I'm merely relaying the Founding Lord's message.”
“…What?”
I rose from my seat and draped an arm over Carla's shoulder.
“Lord Matteus has said that the balance maintained for hundreds of years has been broken.”
“From the Church to the Imperial Family, Harben has seized the power. But our House Ballenstein will rise again!!”
“How?”
“…”
At my single remark, Albrecht sat back down and silently poured wine into his glass.
“Your daughter was outed as a lesbian and excommunicated~. And the captain of the guard position you let slip? At best, you'll get it back a decade or more from now, right?”
“Silence!”
“If you keep chasing Harben's tail~ I fear the portrait of Lord Albrecht hanging in the entrance hall someday will bear the title 'Worst Head of House in History'~.”
Pitter-patter. Provoked past his limit, strands of hair fell from the crown of Albrecht's head.
Whoa… it w-was real. The baldness.
The game portraits never gave you a chance to look at the top of anyone's head, so I hadn't known.
It's worse than I thought…
“But what if the head of the house, backed by the Harben family's full support, were to expose the flaws of a saintess whose position within the Church had been solidified?”
“…!”
The duke fell deep into thought at my words, then began stroking his chin and probing me with questions.
“Even if House Harben withdrew from Church affairs, the other ducal house, Arkright, wouldn't simply stand by…”
This was a trap question.
House Arkright exists purely as dummy data—they've never once appeared in the game.
“What are you talking about? They've never once failed to stand by.”
“Oh-ho.”
The duke's eyebrows twitched.
“Then let's say, as you claim, the saintess's monsterization is progressing. How would you have me expose it?”
This was a test of whether I possessed 'knowledge of monsterization'.
“Is there any method but one?”
When I drew a finger across my throat, the duke gave a faint laugh.
He quickly composed his expression and swept his cautious gaze over me once more.
“Right. The blade it is.”
“Is there any other way before it manifests?”
“Indeed… yes…”
Albrecht drained his glass and tilted it toward me.
This meant he acknowledged me.
I hurried over at a brisker pace and poured wine into his glass.
“Good. All of it, good.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Say I trust your word, cut the throat, and everything turns out to be true.”
“What a thrilling prospect.”
“But you do understand… that won't simply erase her oracle, don't you?”
Another trap question.
Of course it wouldn't be erased—but that only applies to commoners with no power and no money.
In the case where a saintess's qualifications were proven flawed, a high noble could offer a massive donation and post guarantors to petition for a re-verification ritual of the oracle that saintess had delivered.
And if the re-verification confirmed a procedural problem, then any punishment handed down on the basis of that oracle would itself become subject to retrial.
“What's that to a man with money to burn?”
“Ha, I'm going mad. You truly know nothing and everything, and I find myself disliking how much I'm starting to trust you.”
The duke gave a small nod, then downed the wine in his glass in one gulp with a bitter smile.
Then he shook his head and clenched his fist.
“Is there no circumstantial evidence to be certain of? Even a small piece of proof! A fabricated one would do!”
“No, sir. There isn't.”
“Argh…”
At my firm reply, Carla's face went blank, and the duke let out a hollow laugh.
“You're mad. If you hadn't been connected to the Founding Lord, I'd want to cut your throat on the spot. Tsk… give me time to think calmly. Just one day.”
As Albrecht clicked his tongue and made to leave the dining hall, I chuckled heartily, returned to my seat, and propped my legs up on the table.
—THUD!
“That's why Harben is eating your lunch. For the head of one of only three ducal houses in the Empire to be this spineless—tsk.”
“What did you…?”
“Evan! What insolence toward my father—!”
“The insolent one is your father, doing what he's doing.”
“What…?”
“I'm putting my own neck on the line here, and all the great Duke of Ballenstein can think about is how to suck the marrow out with the least responsibility possible… honestly.”
“Why, you insolent little…”
Tendons stood out on the back of Albrecht's hand.
He fiddled with the sword at his hip, circled behind me, and radiated a murderous aura.
“You find me quite the joke, do you? I am a DUKE!! Above me stand only God, the Emperor, and the Pope! And a mere commoner like you dares—!”
“Are you going to cut my throat just because I spoke the truth?”
“The truth? You scarf down a few plates of ducal food and lose your damn mind!”
“There's no reward without risk, my lord.”
“Do you not understand that some risks are simply too great?! This could mean the annihilation of my entire house!”
“One must wade through poisonous thorns with one's life on the line to taste the sweetest fruit.”
“Enough! I won't listen!”
The duke's roar overwhelmed me.
The aura a ducal head of house genuinely unleashed was more than a fisherman with E-rank stamina could withstand.
“Ghhk…”
“I carry the lives of countless retainers on my back. I drag the lives of countless subjects living across my lands!”
“…”
“A mere commoner—a fisherman begging his meals beside a haunted lake, no less—what could you possibly know, and how could you possibly take responsibility, spouting such nonsense?”
“You're insane. And so was I, for listening to a word you said.”
The duke, who had been grumbling on, clicked his tongue at my deathly pale face.
Then, without another word, he brushed past me and yanked the door handle with brutal force.
“Leave my lands. Both of you. I can't stand the sight of you—get out of my territory as fast as those legs will carry you.”
I forced my ragged breathing under control, sprang to my feet, and shoved the door handle he was gripping back shut.
BANG!
The door closed, and Duke Albrecht stared at me in stunned disbelief.
“What strength…!”
“I've heard that a noble who discovers a 'Rift to the Demon Realm' may request a private audience with the Emperor.”
“H-how could you possibly know that?!!”
I'd been hoping to save the Rift material for later, but given the circumstances, I had no choice. Time to spend a little.
“I will tell you where the Rift to the Demon Realm has opened. Use that as leverage to secure an audience with the Emperor—and let's kill the saintess!”
“Wh-what nonsense is that?! Utterly absurd!”
“And since it's a matter concerning the Demon Realm, we have ample grounds to demand the saintess be present at the audience!!”
At my words, Albrecht's eyes wavered violently.
He slumped into his seat, breathing hard… then returned to his chair, sweat streaming down his face, his legs trembling.
“H-how… how does a mere commoner know of the Rift to the Demon Realm? Who told you, my lord?”
“Who knows.”
“Father…! What is the Rift to the Demon Realm?! What is all this?!”
“S-silence, Carla! Your father is thinking. Thinking…!”
Albrecht raised the wine glass to his lips—but the glass had long since been empty.
“Damn it all.”
He clutched the empty glass as if to crush it and gritted his teeth so hard they seemed about to shatter.
“In the Founding Lord's day, no Rift to the Demon Realm ever appeared—so how does this boy know? Then is it the Imperial Family…? No, that doesn't quite…”
—Tap… tap…
The sound of the duke's fingers drumming on the table filled the entire dining hall.
“Kill the saintess… before the Emperor. What kind of madness is this… hahaha…!”
“Dukes and marquesses may carry personal weapons into an audience with the Emperor, can they not? With your skill, my lord, you could take the saintess's head in a single stroke!”
“And then what would you have me do?”
“You'd be arrested on the spot by the guards and the Captain of the Royal Guard… but what are the characteristics of monsterization? If the host dies before the monsterization properly completes…”
“The entire body crumbles to ash.”
—Tap… tap… tap…
His fingers drummed faster and faster.
“I already have a grudge against the saintess. So what if His Majesty or the Captain of the Guard suspects my motives?”
“Of course they'd suspect you.”
“What?”
“The saintess played the decisive role in getting your daughter excommunicated. How could they not suspect you?”
“And yet you'd have me cut her throat?”
“Yes.”
I flashed a grin.
“What kind of noble—unless he's a complete idiot—kills someone openly in front of the Emperor? You spend the money and have it done in a back alley, or just wait until the saintess retires and take her head then. Done.”
“That's true. Yes, you're right.”
The duke nodded vigorously at my words.
Right, damn it—what kind of lunatic cuts a saintess's throat with no motive or justification whatsoever?
In front of the Emperor, no less.
…Anyone who lets their guard down at that moment deserves to be called a madman.
After that, Albrecht fell silent.
I stood beside the still-hesitating duke and boldly placed my hand on his shoulder.
“Evan…”
“…”
“My lord.”
It was a truly fearless act that a mere commoner couldn't have dreamed of—
yet neither Carla nor Albrecht showed the slightest displeasure at it.
“Ballenstein, Harben… even the reclusive Arkright—all took root in the Empire from the Greywood Forest. And yet…”
“…”
“Do you intend to let Ballenstein alone be shoved into the Empire's back room and quietly fade into history? Was the spirit of the Silver Lion only ever this much?”
At my words, fighting spirit blazing in his eyes, the duke gripped my hand tight and bellowed for a servant, receiving parchment and ink.
Then his pen flew swiftly as he began drafting a 'Petition for Audience Upon Discovery of the Rift to the Demon Realm'.
“You damned commoner brat! A fisherman who threw his manners into the lake along with his fishing float!! Fine, yes! This Albrecht shall gladly answer the Oath of the Silver Lion!!”
“An excellent decision, my lord!”
“However…”
Pushing the petition toward me, he suddenly drew his sword and slammed it down onto the table.
The massive table buckled, and a small commotion broke out.
—My lord!?
—Your Grace!! Are you alright?!
Soon the servants had surrounded us, and Albrecht wiped his blade with a handkerchief, shaking his head slightly.
“If everything falls apart, this Albrecht will take your head before I close my eyes for the last time. Do you understand?”
“You and your daughter are exactly alike.”
“…What did you just say?”
“I said I shall engrave your words upon my heart.”