After the Storm

Once the storm passed and the rain finally stopped, all Chester and Monia had left were a ruined shelter, a stone knife, and a stone axe. When the shelter collapsed, they hadn't even had the luxury of grabbing the sling. It was likely buried somewhere beneath the debris, though there was a chance it had been swept away by the wind, just like their clothes.

"Ah, I found my dress!"

"Me too. I found my shoes."

Though the clothes they had left out to dry had been completely blown away, they miraculously found them caught at the edge of the forest. It was disheartening to see them tattered and torn from being whipped around by the wind on the thick branches, but they were still proper clothes. Having them was a blessing in itself. If they hadn't recovered them, they might have had to spend the rest of their days wearing makeshift garments woven from vines and grass.

Chester recovered his trousers and shoes, and Monia found her dress. Unfortunately, smaller items like undergarments and socks hadn't caught on the branches and seemed to have flown far away.

"Have you still not found your shirt?"

"No. Though I did find my vest."

Chester showed her the waistcoat he usually wore over his butler's shirt.

"I'll have to wear this, if only to protect myself from the sun and the bugs."

After slipping the vest over his bare chest, Chester lightly stroked his exposed arms.

I know my father taught me about a herb that keeps bugs away.

He knew that burning damp grass or wood to create smoke could ward off insects. However, that was only useful when they were staying in one place.

Which herb was it again? I can't remember.

Ever since he had recalled the technique for preserving embers, Chester realized he had forgotten far more than he thought. While he retained basic survival skills and general knowledge, the details he had no use for during his years as a butler had slipped away.

I suppose it couldn't be helped.

Serving as the butler to the Duke's family—and to his only daughter, no less—was not a simple matter of waiting on Monia. He had to handle every tedious chore she demanded, while also managing the small army of junior butlers, maids, and servants under his command. On top of that, there was the constant, invisible warfare with noble-born butlers who envied, gossiped about, and actively tried to sabotage Chester, who was of commoner origin despite his connection to a baron.

Furthermore, because of his direct line to the Duke's daughter, many sought to entangle him in their political webs. There were those who tried to marry into his favor, those who approached him with smiles while harboring poison in their hearts, and lower-ranking nobles and knights who flattered him just to get on the Duke's good side. A single misstep could have cost him his head, so he had to devote every ounce of his focus to surviving that courtly jungle.

Under such circumstances, it was only natural that he had forgotten a significant portion of the survival skills and knowledge his father had passed down to him.

Yet, even if it was inevitable, Chester felt a sudden pang of sorrow at how much of his father's teachings had faded from his mind.

"Ah! I found my necklace!"

Monia's cry broke Chester from his thoughts. She pulled a heavy, gem-encrusted necklace from a bush and held it out to him.

"Put it on me!"

"Do you really need to wear that here?"

"Just do it!"

"Good grief."

Chester sighed and fastened the necklace around her neck. Once they were both reasonably dressed in their salvaged clothes, they sat down in the shade at the edge of the forest to talk.

"What are we going to do now? Our home is completely gone."

"What else? We rebuild. But we can't use the beach as our main living area anymore."

"Then where?"

"Slightly deeper into the forest. A bit away from the river. The trees are dense there, so they'll block the wind if another storm hits, and it'll be easier to get water."

Chester then pointed to the spot where their old shelter had stood.

"Over there... yes, let's build a Beach Villa."

"A villa?"

"More like a daytime base of operations on the shore."

"Is there a reason we must stay on the shore?"

"Yes," Chester nodded firmly.

"Why?"

"I saw a bear in the forest."

"A bear? What is a bear?"

The question was so absurd that Chester's mind blanked for a moment. But on second thought, what were the chances that a sheltered noblewoman, who had rarely stepped foot outside the capital, would ever encounter a dangerous beast like a bear? Unless she had a specific interest in biology, it wasn't surprising that she didn't know.

It's not like any of the kingdom's noble houses use a bear as their crest, either.

Chester gave her a brief explanation.

"...It's a monster three times your size, made of pure muscle. It can rip a fully armored knight to shreds like wet paper."

"Eek! Such a thing exists in this world?!"

Monia's imagination ran wild. She pictured a grotesque, hulking monster resembling the burly royal guards who followed the prince around, but three times her size, with claws like spears that could tear a knight apart. The thought of being shredded by such a beast turned her face pale.

"Then why must we go into the forest?!"

"Don't worry. When we build our house, we'll make it as safe as possible."

"...How, exactly?"

Chester picked up a stick and drew a crude diagram in the dirt.

"See?"

"Hmm. I don't see even a sliver of artistic talent. Do you call this a drawing?"

"Look, this is a tree. This is the ground."

"D-Don't ignore me." Monia sniffled slightly at being dismissed.

"We're going to build the house up here, on top of the tree." Chester scribbled a rough house shape onto his crude drawing of a tree.

"A house on top of a tree?"

Hearing this, Monia stopped sniffling and stared intently at Chester's squiggly drawing.

"In a tree?! A house?!"

Monia's eyes sparkled. Seeing her reaction, which reminded him of his own childhood days building secret bases ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the mountains, Chester smiled and continued his explanation.

"Of course, it will take a long time to build. But it has many advantages. At the very least, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠we won't have to worry about predators."

Since this was a deserted island they would eventually escape from, he didn't want to just settle for a flimsy, temporary shelter. Having been thoroughly beaten by the elements once, Chester was determined to build a proper, livable home.

"I'd like to build it near the river."

"Can't we build it right next to the river? It would make fetching water much easier."

"If it rains heavily, the river will overflow. You don't want to get swept away and drown, do you?"

"Ugh. No."

"Good. Let's organize our plan."

Chester pointed back toward their old campsite.

"First, we build a temporary shelter there, which will later serve as our daytime base—our 'Beach Villa.'"

Though it was far too crude and pathetic to be called a villa, the name had already stuck in their minds.

"While staying at the Beach Villa, we will prepare to build our forest home. Step one: scout the location."

Chester held up a second finger.

"Step two: gather materials."

"Materials?"

"Yes. If I do it all by myself, it will take forever."

With those words, Chester held out the stone axe to Monia.

"Which means..."

"Your Highness, the piece you commissioned from this humble Plarong is complete."

Inside a villa located in a corner of the Academy—a place built exclusively for the heir to the kingdom—Prince Jordy was meeting with the jeweler Plarong.

Plarong was a master craftsman who had risen to fame by creating exquisite ornaments that always managed to satisfy the notoriously fastidious Monia. Recognizing his skill, the royal family and the Duke's house had commissioned him to craft their engagement rings. And now, in Plarong's hands lay a 'second engagement ring.'

Resting on a piece of luxurious velvet was a pair of rings that could only be described as masterpieces of the highest order.

"Oh, as expected of Plarong. Magnificent craftsmanship."

"You flatter me, Your Highness."

A second engagement...

Plarong felt a wave of absurdity washing over him as he watched the prince admire the rings with an innocent, carefree smile. He recalled a letter he had recently received from a blacksmith friend, filled with bitter complaints. Blacksmiths were heavily associated with forging weapons and armor, but in truth, unless a war broke out, they spent most of their time making other things—tools for craftsmen like Plarong, or everyday utensils for common folk. They helped people live, rather than taking lives, and his friend had always taken great pride in that.

Yet, his friend's recent letter had painted a very different picture.

The ink on the final lines of the letter had been so smudged by his friend's tears that it was barely legible. Plarong could not even begin to fathom the sheer terror and anxiety his friend must have felt with every strike of his hammer.

...

Plarong silently observed Jordy. The prince held the rings in both hands, his eyes filled with a mixture of anticipation and worry over whether Tiara would like them. Seeing the young man looking so anxious over his first love, Plarong closed his eyes and bowed his head.

In the end, he was merely a craftsman who made jewelry on command. Just like his friend, who forged weapons to avoid execution under the guise of a 'commission.'

They had eyes and ears, but they had to remain blind and deaf. They had mouths, but they could not speak.

"Since these are imbued with Your Highness's deep affection, the lady will undoubtedly be overjoyed."

"Do you think so? Yes, of course she will! Excellent, Plarong. I shall reward you handsomely for this."

Plarong kept his eyes closed, his ears shut, and spoke only the sweet words Jordy wished to hear.

"Tiara seemed deeply hurt after her visit to her family. I hope this brings a smile back to her face."

"Let's make a tool for you to use."

"A tool... like this axe?"

"Yes. I'll show you how, and then you can make it yourself."

Monia's eyes widened at the suggestion that she should make it herself.

"What? I thought you were going to make it for me."

"I could, but it's better to learn how to do things on your own. That's how my father taught me."

At Chester's words, Monia looked down at the stone axe in his hand, trying to picture herself holding one. As she did, her gaze fell upon the ring on her left ring finger. She slowly slid it off.

It was the engagement ring she had received on the day of her betrothal. Aside from when it was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠resized as she grew, she had never taken it off for a single moment. Now, it slipped easily from her finger.

Staring at the pale, distinct mark left on her skin, Monia closed her eyes and squeezed the ring tightly in her fist.

"Yah!"

With a sharp cry, she threw the ring into the ocean with all her might, just as Chester did ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠when he disposed of trash.

"Phew!"

With a strangely satisfied smile, Monia placed her hand over the stone axe Chester was holding out to her. Though the ring was gone, the rope Chester had tied around her wrist still remained.

"So, will you teach me? I'll work hard to learn."

"Alright."

Seeing her bright, liberated smile, Chester couldn't help but grin back.