Setting Off to Save the Bison, sawa!
Slaughter…… slaughter, they said.
The word slaughter kept circling round and round in my head.
"I want to save that bison, sawa. It would be lovely to ride him around, too."
……Ride him? A bison?
The sheer absurdity of it threw me for a moment. A noble daughter riding a bison.
When I pictured it, it was a little funny — but somehow, it might actually suit Katerina surprisingly well.
No, forget "suit" — if the Mountain King were clad in full armor and Katerina, in her maid's uniform, rode him into battle……?
That would be undeniably cool, wouldn't it?
Idiotic, but magnificent. Something like a mecha-Tyrannosaurus, you could say.
And it would be surprisingly practical(?), too. If Katerina, brimming with overwhelming brute strength, came charging in astride a rampaging bison, she'd become an unstoppable, man-killing siege engine — one weighing well over two tons by any rough estimate.
But how? If I suddenly ran off to the Trofimov Barony and declared I wanted to buy the Mountain King…… well. Even at a reasonable price they might laugh me off, and if I offered some outrageous sum, Mother would most certainly take it very badly.
Just when I'd finally begun to win her over, too…….
A knock sounded at the door.
"Come in."
Eliza and Bielka answered my call and entered side by side. Perhaps they read something in my expression, because both of them looked faintly worried.
"My lady, whatever are you pondering so deeply?"
Eliza asked carefully.
"Eliza, Bielka…… I want to bring the Mountain King here. I intend to make him mine, sawa."
Their reactions could not have been more different. Eliza's expression stiffened slightly, while Bielka's eyes sparkled with a mix of alarm and excitement.
"You mean that dangerous bison, my lady? You must think this through carefully. If the Grand Duchess were to learn of it……."
"I know, sawa."
I cut Eliza off mid-sentence.
"If Mother finds out, another letter will come. But…… but……"
"……But……?"
Eliza was the first gate I had to get past before Mother — the first line of persuasion. What could I say to win her approval?
The authority of a future ruler who has tamed a colossal beast? A noble daughter-knight riding a bison — romance itself, distilled into one image?
"That big ox would be the perfect mount for me, sawa."
The words leapt out before I'd even finished organizing my thoughts.
Eliza, unexpectedly, didn't object all that strongly. Instead, she seemed to be mulling something over.
"Lady Katerina, you said the slaughter date is in ten days, did you not?"
"That's right. Bielka heard it."
Eliza tapped her chin lightly with a finger, lost in thought.
"There isn't much time. If you truly intend to save that bison, we must act quickly."
"Then does that mean Eliza agrees too, sawa?"
"I wouldn't say I fully agree……"
Eliza let out a small sigh, then broke into a smile.
"But your heart seems entirely made up, my lady, so I suppose we must find the safest and most legitimate method we can."
Joy surged up inside me. Eliza's blessing was, in effect, half the battle won.
"First, before the day is out, I will send a formal request to visit Baron Trofimov. We will likely arrive at the barony before his reply even comes back.
That is technically a breach of courtesy, but with the pretext that you wish to look for a new horse, my lady, it should cause no great offense.
Then, by some fortunate accident, you happen to reunite with the Mountain King, hear of his impending slaughter, and — in your overflowing compassion, my lady — purchase the poor ox before he meets his end. There we are."
Eliza's proposal was reasonable. But there were other scenarios to consider.
"Bielka says the baron has named an absolutely exorbitant price for the bison — what if he tries to fleece us by demanding enough to recoup every loss he's ever suffered?
Or worse, what if he exploits my status to demand an even more outrageous sum, sawa? Once he's invoked the pretext of 'the compassionate young lady,' I wouldn't even be able to back out of it."
Before Eliza could open her mouth, I pressed on.
"Then how about this, sawa? Listen, now.
While I'm briefly separated from the group, Eliza secretly releases the Mountain King and the other bison.
The baron and his herdsmen are thrown into utter chaos, and in the confusion, I subdue the Mountain King myself.
And then, wouldn't Baron Trofimov present the Mountain King to me as a token of his gratitude, sawa?"
"Lady Katerina!?"
"What a wonderful idea! Just like an adventure novel!"
Eliza cut me off with a startled voice. Bielka, on the other hand, was practically glowing.
"See, sawa? Even Bielka approves!"
At my words, Eliza closed her eyes for a moment and drew a deep breath.
"Lady Katerina, that is…… had you still been the young lady of old, you would simply have run out the door and declared we rob him of it outright.
This time, you've actually devised a plan — absurd, yes, but one that at least resembles a plan."
Her words drew a laugh out of me too. She was right. It was an idea that neither the fully modern me nor the original Katerina could ever have produced alone.
"But let us treat that as a genuine last resort. It would be best to try the official route first, as planned."
"Understood, sawa."
……………
The Grand Duchess's carriage was luxury itself, made manifest. It was said to be the carriage Katerina had always traveled in, though searching Katerina's memories, I couldn't find evidence she'd used it all that often.
In any case, the interior was remarkably comfortable. The cabin held steady even through the gentle swaying, with plush cushions, seats upholstered in lambskin, and window frames edged in gold. Everything was of the very finest quality.
"Uuungh……"
Bielka's groan drifted over from the window. Pale-faced, she was gazing outside, doing her utmost just to endure.
"Oh dear? Are you getting carsick — er, carriage-sick, Bielka, sawa?"
"I-I'm sorry…… I've never…… ridden in a carriage before……"
There was something about the sight of Bielka — with that monstrous chest of hers — looking so wretched that, how should I put it……
It pulled an odd little smile out of me before I could help it.
There was no denying it: Bielka was a devilishly charming girl. Adorable when she smiled, adorable when she suffered — I felt my own heart skip a beat, and I was a woman.
If I had been reborn as the Grand Duke's son instead of his daughter…… would I really have been able to keep my hands off Bielka?
Probably not. Illuwait! Heh heh heh heh…… no, no, what am I even thinking.
"You'll be all right. Try to keep your eyes on something far off outside the window — it should help a little. If it gets truly bad, we can stop the carriage for a while."
"Thank you…… uurk……"
Bielka clapped a hand over her mouth, her face turning a sickly shade of blue. Mercifully, she didn't actually throw up. The whole spectacle was so entertaining that I found myself chuckling under my breath.
Five days into the journey, the carriage crested a hill, and the Trofimov Barony spread out before us in a single sweeping view. Broad grasslands, dense forests, and a clear stream winding through it all. Truly a pastoral scene.
"Wow, it's beautiful here. Feels a bit different from my hometown back in Kuzinovka, all wheat fields as far as the eye can see……"
Bielka, having briefly forgotten her motion sickness, let out a sigh of admiration.
But the closer we drew, the more something off about the barony caught my eye. A great stable, half-collapsed, and broken fences scattered around it. Repair work was underway on some sections, but the scars of destruction were still vividly fresh.
"I believe those are the Mountain King's handiwork, my lady."
Eliza murmured. The scale of the damage was larger than I'd imagined.
My eye for these things is as sharp as ever.
The fact that he'd been floored by a single punch from me in no way meant the Mountain King was weak. Somehow, my expectations climbed even higher.
The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the manor house at the heart of the estate. As soon as it halted, the driver hurried down and opened the door. Baron Trofimov stood waiting at the front entrance, wearing a somewhat strained expression.
He was a middle-aged man waging a futile war against baldness, combing what hair remained at the top of his head sideways in a vain attempt to conceal it. Judging by the considerable swell of his belly, he seemed to be living quite comfortably regardless.
Put kindly, a gentleman of fine presence; put unkindly, a pot-bellied balding old man…….
"Lady Katerina, though this visit comes rather suddenly and I regret we could not prepare a proper welcome, it is an honor to have you grace our lands with your presence."
The baron bowed deeply at the waist. The gesture looked just a touch overdone. Watching him, some observation or other surfaced unbidden from somewhere deep inside me.
A bow blending petty noble pride and groveling servility in exactly the way only a minor aristocrat can manage……?
You're more twisted than I thought, Katerina.
Well, Katerina herself would probably have simply moved on with a faint sour taste in her mouth. Assigning a name to this feeling was my doing, not hers — so the analysis was on me, I supposed.
The information Eliza had gathered for me came back to mind. Baron Trofimov was said to place enormous value on rank and prestige. And rumor had it he was exhausting every means at his disposal to amass a fortune large enough to purchase a count's title.
"Baron Trofimov, I must apologize for descending on you so abruptly, sawa."
In answer to the baron's bow, I inclined my head — but only the tiniest degree.