Karma Comes Calling (0)
I headed to Father's study with my brothers. Mavel and Chris both wore expressions like prisoners awaiting sentencing—Chris especially looked half-dead, which was only natural, considering the crime he'd just committed.
When Father finally settled into the chair of his study after half a year's absence, the room at last felt like it had found its master again.
"Explain the situation just now."
Mavel seemed to have recovered his composure. He looked at Chris with a cool gaze as he spoke.
"Chris attacked the Treasury and set it on fire to cover up his own crimes. I gave him every chance to confess his transgressions and face the judgment of the law, but he refused. As acting lord, my options were limited."
"So you merely enforced the law?"
"That is what you taught me, Father. That the law must stand equal before all men."
Chris's face flushed crimson as he shouted.
"This is an outrage! Mavel here subjected my merchant guild to a tax audit on some preposterous pretext and had my men all dragged in—I was only responding to that! Everything you believe happened, Father, is a misunderstanding!"
"A misunderstanding?"
"Yes! The whole thing was orchestrated by Mavel in league with the Treasury officials!"
Chris spat out his accusations with fervor. Then Father's gaze turned to me.
"If the youngest has something to say as well, speak."
"The fire at the Treasury building left sixteen staff members unconscious from smoke inhalation. Emergency treatment has been administered, thankfully, but proper medical care is urgently needed."
"Who administered the emergency treatment?"
"I did. There was no time to call for help."
When Father nodded with evident satisfaction, Mavel's brow twitched ever so slightly.
If he felt he'd missed something important, then he was right. The man serving as acting lord had chosen to fight with his brother rather than put out the fire.
"Give me a chance to defend myself, Father!"
Chris raised his voice.
"Do you have more to say?"
"Have you heard why the duchy has suffered famine after famine for the past ten years? Do you know it was a vile conspiracy hatched by a certain someone?!"
"Go on."
"It was all Mavel's doing!"
Chris shouted, spittle flying.
"I did my own investigation, and the locations of the famines over the last ten years match up exactly with the locations of that bastard's farms! Think about it—it's simple. Who else could it be but Mavel, the man with an Awoken Ability capable of cultivating piles of 2nd-grade mana cores on his farms?"
"...What an absurd claim."
Mavel laughed as though at a loss.
"I understand your feelings, brother. You've caused a disaster far too large to clean up on your own. Still, I don't care for the sight of you trying to drag me down with outright falsehoods."
"Are you claiming you had nothing to do with the famine crisis?"
"I am."
Mavel answered firmly.
"There are many people with plant-related Awoken Abilities. The gardener I employ, for one, knows how to force flowers into early bloom. As for the claim that my farms sit where the famines occurred... well, I suppose you're saying my judgment in establishing them on land whose soil hadn't been exhausted is somehow a crime. A farmer can hardly be expected to chase after famines, after all."
Mavel smiled gently. Chris's bloodshot eyes blazed.
"Lies! I have documents proving it!"
"Oh, I'm sure you have documents, Chris. I have documents too, but frankly, documents can be twisted to say anything. A man's everyday conduct is what speaks the truth. I, who have devoted myself silently to this family for ten years, and Chris, who has spent those same ten years mired in one scandal after another, cannot possibly be placed on the same footing."
Chris's breathing grew ragged. If Father hadn't been present, he looked ready to beat Mavel to death then and there.
Father closed his eyes and remained silent for a long while.
"Hear me."
At last, Father's mouth opened.
"Mavel Esterzy."
"Yes, Father."
"You failed to carry out my order to govern the territory well. You neglected the victims of the fire, and you failed to respond appropriately to the famine crisis. And no reason, whatever it may be, can justify you drawing blades against your own brother and staining the family's honor."
Mavel silently bowed his head.
"I am removing you from the position of acting lord. In my absence, the ministers of each department will share authority and govern the territory."
As Father declared this with gravity, Mavel's eyes shook without restraint.
Being removed as acting lord amounted to a declaration that Father would not recognize Mavel's precedence as eldest son.
There was no need to even mention how politically devastating this was. It could only be read as a measure of Father's fury.
"A separate investigative team will be formed regarding the cause of the famine. Cooperate fully with the inquiry."
"...Understood. I apologize for the trouble I've caused."
Mavel's complexion looked terrible. The man who hadn't budged an inch under the endless provocations from me and Chris apparently couldn't withstand the shock of being cast aside by Father.
"Chris Esterzy."
Chris was too tense to even answer.
"You... what in the world is wrong with your head?"
Father's eyebrows shot upward.
"Ex-excuse me? I, I..."
"I asked what is wrong with your head!"
Father slammed his fist down on the desk with a bang. Chris leapt into the air like a startled rabbit at the impact.
"Sixteen people! Sixteen! To cover your own shame, you set fire to a building full of that many people? And after that, you still have the gall to call yourself a member of House Esterzy, to call yourself my son!"
It looked as though fire might pour from Father's eyes and mouth at any moment. Chris had gone completely white at his bellow.
"Fa-Father...! I was wrong. P-please, forgive me just this once!"
Chris dropped to his knees on the study floor and pressed his palms together, begging Father for mercy.
He had no other choice, really—he had just watched and heard Mavel get torn apart with his own eyes and ears. This was no time to be standing on pride.
"While your father risks his life on the battlefield, you gathered a pack of thugs to brawl like street gangsters. How utterly shameful. You have stained the honor of this house. Your crime is by no means a light one!"
Chris's shoulders trembled violently.
"Pack your things and take your gang to Stormrock. You will remain there until I say otherwise!"
"Father!"
Chris's head snapped up. His face was corpse-pale.
Stormrock was the fortress at the very northernmost edge of the northern front—the very place where Father had spent all those years. Being sent to Stormrock meant fighting the demons in Father's stead, and never once had Father made such a demand of any of his sons.
"Rebuilding lost honor is never easy. If you still wish to be my son, show me resolve worthy of the name Esterzy."
Father rose from his seat and glanced briefly at me.
"Eden, come with me."
I followed Father out of the study. Chris couldn't straighten his knees until long after the door had closed behind us.
Father led me to the garden of the ducal residence. Flowers bloomed in riotous profusion, and not another soul was in sight. In that quiet space where only the two of us stood, he looked down at me and said:
"You've grown into someone I hardly recognize."
"I've still got a long way to go before I catch up to you, Father."
That was no joke—I genuinely couldn't fathom how many years it would take to reach Father's height. Though he no longer felt quite so impossibly far above me as he once had.
"I heard you captured a flame giant. A female one, at that."
Worried he might fret over it, I'd deliberately left the giant out of my letters. This was news he'd heard through someone else.
"The first flame giant I ever slew was when I was sixteen. In the middle of the war with the demons, on the northern front."
He said this as he ruffled my hair.
"You've surpassed me, Eden."
"Not at all. I was simply lucky."
I meant it.
I was someone who had lived through a previous life. In my eyes, Father, who had felled a giant at sixteen without any such past-life experience to draw on, was by far the more remarkable of us.
"How are Thalia and Vitten? Are they pulling their weight?"
"The knight order practically couldn't function without them. I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am that you introduced them to me."
Thalia and Vitten were both from the Steel Guard. Once, they had been nothing more than promising recruits, but since coming to me they had become as precious to me as family.
"You haven't forgotten your promise to show me the knight order?"
"Of course not."
"Let's go after dinner tonight. I'm particularly curious about this Srudal fellow. You'd be the first in House Esterzy to take an ogre as a vassal."
Father smiled pleasantly. The atmosphere was worlds apart from the one in the study.
"I'll be departing for the Imperial capital soon."
"Already? You only just got back."
"Would you rather I didn't go?"
"You need rest too, Father. You've just returned from the front, and you're pushing yourself too hard."
I spoke with genuine feeling. Father was not invincible either—no such person exists in this world.
"It can't be helped. I must report on the demons' movements to His Majesty. That said, I won't leave right away—I intend to take ten days to regroup. The territory is in quite a state. Which brings me to a question..."
Father paused.
"Will you come with me in ten days?"
"To the Imperial capital?"
"Yes. A two-month round trip."
"Yes, I'll go."
I answered without a moment's hesitation.
The Esterzy Duchy was nothing but the far edge of the Pellion Empire. Someday, I wanted to see more of the wider world. Traveling with Father was the perfect opportunity to broaden my horizons.
"So that's how it went."
I gave Lucian a full account of what had happened at the ducal residence. When I finished, he let out an unreadable smile.
"It seems I picked the right side after all."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"His Grace has never once taken any of his sons to the capital. For a man like that to single you out and request your company—that means he intends to introduce you to the capital's central politics, does it not?"
"Is an introduction really such a big deal?"
"Absolutely. The nobility will read it as a signal that you've been designated the heir."
"Oh, come on. You're reading way too much into it."
"I'm entirely serious. When you accompany the Duke to the capital this time, the nobles there will come to remember your face as the son of the Duke, won't they? To become Duke, you don't merely need recognition from the nobles here. You need the support of the central political establishment, and the Emperor's sanction as well. When that time comes, you'll understand what I mean."
Lucian apparently wanted to see me become Duke.
But it wouldn't be as easy as he made it sound.
Our encounter earlier had reminded me all over again that Mavel was no pushover. When Chris had dug into the famine issue, he seemed better prepared for it than I'd expected.
And Chris would return from the northern front having grown stronger. It might look like I'd just scored points with Father, but the situation could turn on a dime.
"You'll be meeting a great many people in the capital. Be especially wary of the First Prince. He has a notorious reputation for savagery."
"Don't worry. Thanks to someone, I've got plenty of practice dealing with lunatics."
"Ah, and please accept this."
Lucian pulled a sheet of paper from his desk and scribbled something across it in quick, decisive strokes. He slipped the paper into an envelope, sealed it firmly, and handed it over to me.
"What's this?"
"There's a merchant in the capital named Zargon. This is a business proposal—but it would be far more effective if you placed it in his hands personally, my lord."
"Fine. That much I can do."
I tucked the envelope he'd given me into my pocket.
"And so that you aren't burdened with 'merchant matters' on your travels, I'll be sending one of my men to accompany you."
"Which one of your men?"
Lucian snapped his fingers. The office door swung open, and a middle-aged man in silk garments entered. A thick beard covered his gaunt cheeks, and the moment he saw me, he fidgeted excessively, not knowing where to put himself.
"You may recognize him."
I cocked my head. He did look vaguely familiar, but nothing came to me clearly.
"Young Lord Eden!"
The man threw himself flat on the floor, then looked up at me and cried out at the top of his lungs.
"I pay my respects! Thanks to the ocean-deep grace you bestowed upon me, my lord! I, Adras, have been reborn as an entirely new man!"
Adras.
I turned the name over in my mind, and a musty memory from five years ago surfaced.
"Ah. The conman who sold creek water as 'Essence of Elements'..."
"...Died that day, and exists no more! Standing before you is only Adras—pure and clean, his heart brimming over with loyalty to you and you alone, my lord!"