Wh-Who Are You?
Derek paced restlessly around the room. A meal had been laid out for him on the table in the corner, but he hadn't so much as touched it. He had no appetite at all.
"And why the hell did you show up out of nowhere, of all places…!"
The accident at the mine was irritating enough, and now Bayul had to appear on top of it—unbelievable. Derek had never once dreamed the boy would be here.
"What's that? You'll handle it yourself?"
Derek's face twisted as he spat out the words to no one.
"Since when have you lifted a finger for this household, that you dare invoke your rights in front of me? You devoured one of your twin brothers—shouldn't you be keeping your head down and staying quiet? Why crawl back out? You're a nuisance, you know that?"
Derek strode over to the table, grabbed a cup, and gulped down his beer in great swigs. He was drinking so fast that some of it trickled down from the corner of his mouth.
Thud!
He slammed the mug down, roughly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Hah! How am I supposed to make him back off? This is a real headache. Everything and everyone grinding on my nerves, damn it all."
Derek, cursing under his breath as he paced back and forth, wore an expression and spoke in a tone completely different from the man who had just been sitting with Bayul. If you hadn't seen his face, you might have taken him for an entirely different person—he was that savage and brutal. The contrast with his kindly features couldn't have been starker.
"And here I thought he was just some snot-nosed little kid. The boy's got teeth, doesn't he…"
Watching Bayul press Velgofsky about the work hours had genuinely startled Derek. He had no idea what the boy had been learning at the academy, but in that single moment, the old image of the sickly invalid had vanished without a trace.
Even in that brief exchange, Derek realized at once that the boy was no pushover. If Bayul said he would do something, he would do it. To avoid drawing suspicion, Derek needed to prepare.
"Young Master Derek, I've come as ordered."
The door opened to a voice crawling low and servile, and in walked Velgofsky, the mine overseer. Head bowed like a condemned criminal, he shuffled forward step by hesitant step. With every meter he closed, Derek's eyes sank colder.
How much time had passed like that?
Derek, who had been drowning his frustration in nothing but beer, finally spoke.
"What kind of game are you playing?"
"…Pardon?"
Velgofsky looked up with wide, round eyes at the sudden question.
"You're trying to screw me over right now, aren't you?"
"Y-Young Master… I—I don't understand what you mean…"
"Why did you tell Bayul? What on earth was the point of contacting the main estate?"
"Well—obviously, because of the collapse, over fifty workers were trapped, so I needed the estate's help…"
"That's it? Accidents happen all the time in the mines—it's practically part of the job, isn't it? Don't the workers all take that risk when they sign on?"
They could simply hire new workers to replace the lost ones. The mineral extraction would fall a little behind schedule, but that would have been far better than the current situation.
"You could have told me alone. Then it could've been buried quietly, nice and simple. But no—now what am I supposed to explain to Bayul tomorrow morning? Hmm?"
"…The accident was caused by the workers' exhaustion—a lack of sleep dulled their concentration. Couldn't you simply confess honestly to Young Master Bayul and ask for his forgiveness?"
"Are you dense, or just plain stupid? You think Bayul will just say 'Oh, I see,' and let it end there?"
The boy was bound to dig and pry until he uncovered the cause of the accident. And once he learned Derek was involved, it would only be a matter of time before the news reached his uncle—and, worse, Duke Randert himself. That, above all, had to be avoided.
"I told you to make sure nothing traced back to me, didn't I?"
"…No one at the mine knows anything about what's been going on. As you instructed, only I and a handful of workers are aware. They're all tight-lipped men, so on that point, rest assured."
"And how are you going to explain why they were working at four in the morning?"
"That… couldn't we just claim production was increased to boost revenue?"
"On your own authority, with no orders from my uncle? How bold of you."
At Derek's sneer, Velgofsky found himself speechless. He had regretted it from the moment the mine collapsed. However desperate he'd been for money, he should never have listened to Young Master Derek—he had shot himself squarely in the foot.
"How's your daughter? Is she married and doing well?"
"…!"
Velgofsky flinched at the question that came out of nowhere.
"Why so jumpy? Wasn't it her wedding money that made you agree to help me in the first place?"
Derek studied Velgofsky in silence for a moment, then made his proposal with the air of a man doling out charity.
"I hear your son-in-law's business isn't doing so well. I happen to own a shop on Snape Street. I was thinking of handing it over to you… What do you say? Any interest?"
"…A st-store, you say?"
"Yes, about two hundred square meters, would that do? I'm willing to back you with capital too, whatever you decide to start."
Snape Street was the most coveted stretch of land in all of Hamilton. A shop of that size there would rake in a staggering profit every month. Why would he suddenly give something like that away? Fear prickled at the back of Velgofsky's neck even as greed stirred in his belly.
"In exchange, there's a condition."
Gulp.
Velgofsky swallowed hard, his nerves stretched taut.
"Tomorrow morning, when Bayul comes asking, tell him this: you overreached yourself in order to repay the Lord's generosity."
"…I overreached?"
"That's right—more or less what you said just now. You increased the workload to raise revenue. Out of pure loyalty to the Lord, and on your own initiative. Alone."
"…On my… alone?"
Velgofsky had been about to insist that every action had been taken on Derek's orders—and even that was already a considerable concession. How could he ask this of him?
"That cursed rain has left half the territory in ruins, and restoring it all is bleeding money by the bucketful. You do know this ice mine is Hamilton's single greatest source of income, don't you? Surely you haven't forgotten that."
"Of—of course I know that."
"Exactly! The city's affairs require enormous sums, which is why you stepped up. When my uncle hears that, I'm sure he'll be moved."
Velgofsky's face drained white.
"A-are you… trying to pin the entire blame on me?"
"Pin it on you? I'm giving you an opportunity. Praise from my uncle, a shop from me—killing two birds with one stone, no?"
"The mine collapsed. Thankfully no one died, but many workers were injured. When the Lord returns, I won't be receiving praise—I may well be heading straight to prison."
The Duke usually cherished his vassals as his own flesh and blood, but he was also merciless toward wrongdoing. Velgofsky could hardly hope to escape responsibility for this disaster—yet he had no wish to shoulder all of it alone, either.
"I am guilty of nothing but doing as Young Master Derek commanded. How can you treat me this way?"
"Are you daring to blame me right now?"
"…N-no, of course not, but if only you hadn't ordered the stealing…"
"Stealing? When did I ever order you to steal?"
"If siphoning off minerals isn't theft, then what is it? And hardly a trivial amount, either! That's why we were working until dawn, and this is what came of it—and what we received for our trouble was a pittance…"
"Shut your mouth!"
Derek bellowed and raised his hand. Eyes bulging, he brought it down hard toward Velgofsky.
'Ugh!'
Velgofsky squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn't the first time. If he was going to be struck, his body had long since learned the drill.
CRASH!
But at that instant, the window rattled and flew wide open. A violent gust of wind and rain burst into the room, slamming into Derek where he stood.
"Aagh! What the—what is this!"
In a heartbeat he was a drowned rat. Derek flung up his arms and let loose a stream of filthy curses.
"Damn it! What kind of building maintenance is this, windows flying open on their own? You—you did this on purpose, didn't you?"
"N-no, my lord! Not at all, never! How could I possibly dare such a thing! A wretch like me wouldn't dream of it!"
"Can't you see the state I'm in? Go fetch a towel, now!"
"Y-yes! Right away, my lord!"
Velgofsky sprinted to the bathroom and hurried back with a towel. Derek snatched it from his hands and furiously wiped the rainwater from his body.
Velgofsky dashed back and shut the window, but the floor was already soaked through. If it wasn't dried quickly, it would stain. He ran to fetch a rag from the bathroom and scrubbed at the floor.
"Damn it—no spare clothes, and now this. What a mess!"
In his rush to get here, he'd forgotten to pack a change of clothes. And he certainly couldn't lower himself to wear what the servants wore, so tonight he would have to sleep wrapped in his blanket. It was, truly, an insufferable night.
"Now, where were we?"
Having shaken off most of the water, Derek went and sank onto the sofa.
"Had I gotten as far as offering you this opportunity?"
To Velgofsky, still clutching the rag and fidgeting, Derek spoke as though delivering a gentle lecture.
"I understand your sense of injustice—truly, I do. But think it through. We're accomplices either way. Only, I'm his nephew, and you're just a vassal of the territory. Surely my uncle wouldn't punish his own flesh and blood?"
"…"
"It'll be you and you alone. And I'll help you. Just say it was something you committed entirely on your own, and I'll give you that shop I mentioned—on top of this."
Derek unwound the gold bracelet from his wrist and dangled it before Velgofsky's eyes, letting it sway.
"What this is worth—you of all people know without my saying."
He had served as mine overseer for a long time. How could he not know the price of gold? Velgofsky's eyes gleamed with greed yet again. Derek had always possessed an uncanny knack for reading exactly what a man wanted.
"So. Do we have a deal?"
"…"
"Why no answer? Shall I put this away again?"
When Derek moved to fasten the bracelet back on, Velgofsky seized his hand.
"No! I'll do it!"
What did it matter if he rotted in prison for a while? It had been a sizable accident, but no one had died. If he claimed he'd done it for the Lord, surely there would be leniency.
He only had to hold out for a little while. His daughter was his only family. If she and her husband could be happy, he could endure that much. He would simply think of the future waiting for him after his release.
"Bring me a drink."
Once Velgofsky had made up his mind, Derek let out a long breath.
'What an idiot.'
Believing a man would keep a promise that had never left his lips was foolishness laid bare for all to see.
'This is why the lesser ones are so easy to handle.'
Since Bayul had insisted he would resolve the matter, Derek planned to give the boy a vague explanation early tomorrow morning and then leave this place. Until then, he needed more drink.
―Ohh? So that's how it is, huh?
Tempesta, who had been sitting cross-legged across from Derek and watching the whole scene unfold, curled one corner of his mouth upward.
―And here I was told he's Bayul's cousin. What a nasty piece of work. Won't Bayul be sad when he finds out?
That thought crossed his mind for a moment, but to Tempesta, what he had just witnessed was far beyond something he could let slide. He wanted to tell someone what he'd seen, and fast. With a smile playing at his lips, the boy spirit shot straight off toward Bayul.
―Bayul! Bayul! You won't believe what I just heard!
It was the very moment Tempesta came bursting into Bayul's quarters.
"Wh-what did you say? That gem—where did it come from?"
Bayul was asking Spinel something, his voice trembling. His expression was so grave that Tempesta found himself unable to butt in.