Memory (1)

The profession of butler was a specialized one.

Especially when that butler managed a household belonging to the bourgeoisie, with all their varied business ventures, or a noble family with deep history.

The workload might not rival that of an imperial finance officer, but the sums of money flowing in and out were far beyond what an ordinary family might track by jotting figures into a household ledger.

This was a world that possessed calculating machines, mechanical calculators, and devices that vaguely resembled computers. Naturally, those machines operated far more slowly and cumbersomely than the semiconductor-based world I had come from, which meant that both the people working with them and the people managing those workers mattered immensely.

What mattered most was, as always, personal trustworthiness.

Someone you could trust not to pocket a little for themselves even while watching large sums flow past. Someone with the skill to calculate taxes correctly and ensure the imperial household found no pretext for prying. Finding a person who met every condition and bringing them in from the outside was never easy. After all, a person like that was very likely already employed somewhere.

So nobles of a certain standing tried to cultivate such people within their own houses. A member of the family from the start was ideal. Even if they did skim a little off the top, the target of their skimming was ultimately their own house, so it was a loss no matter how much they took, and they calculated taxes with knife-edge precision. They tried to pay less, of course, but they never imagined their own heads were sharper than the imperial palace's analytical engines.

What excellent workers.

But not every member of a noble family was so sensible and intelligent.

Which was why they set out to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠raise people from the beginning. Ideally, properly instilling loyalty along the way.

The butler serving this baronial house was no different.

"It is the honor of a lifetime."

The words were a touch exaggerated, but his manner made them feel not exaggerated but sincere. So sincere, in fact, that it provoked a contrary suspicion as to whether they really were sincere.

The butler wore his hair short with a side parting, pomade pressing it flat against his scalp. Judging by his face alone, one might have expected hair gone white, but perhaps he dyed it—his hair was black.

His mustache was immaculately groomed, with not a single hair out of place. From the front pocket of the black three-piece suit vest he wore, a thin gold chain spilled out. Inside, he probably kept a pocket watch.

"We are delighted to visit such a fine place as well. Surely it is your efforts that have made this estate so beautifully maintained."

"You are too kind."

At Alice's compliment, the butler replied as though it were nothing, yet he could not entirely hide the pride seeping into his face. The quantity of that pride did not, of course, violate decorum. In terms of a beverage, it was the level of a faint added fragrance.

"I was showing Their Highnesses the interior of the manor. They will be staying for several days, and it is possible they may visit again."

The butler's gaze shifted ever so slightly toward Claire, who stood near us. In that single instant, he seemed to grasp how matters stood.

Or perhaps he and Claire already spoke frequently. Considering the guards I had met at the estate entrance, that might ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be the more plausible guess.

"In that case, I could assist you instead."

The butler addressed the baroness thus, but she gently shook her head. Every one of her movements suggested a noblewoman raised sheltered and precious from childhood, yet just a moment ago I had glimpsed calluses on her fingertips.

They were evidence not of someone who had merely swung a sword in the past, but of someone who still swung a sword at every spare moment. The baroness had probably noticed that my eyes had flickered toward her fingers for an instant. She gave no sign, of course.

"Guiding Their Highnesses is something I should do myself. I am the mistress of this house, after all."

"Understood."

At the words of the baroness, who looked younger than himself, the butler bowed his head deeply without betraying a single doubt.

"My reason for seeking you out, head butler, is to meet the child currently being educated to work in this manor."

The butler's gaze rose again. For the briefest moment, curiosity appeared to flicker in his eyes, but by the time I was properly looking at them, it had already been erased.

"That child has finished his daily duties and is resting at present."

"Would visiting now be a discourtesy?"

"Not at all. He is one who has received ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the baronial house's favor. I'm certain he will come out gladly once he hears the situation."

In truth, visiting after working hours was indeed a discourtesy. It was no different from the company president bringing the chairman over to see an employee's face when they were resting after work, exactly as the phrase suggests.

But this was a noble society, and most of the children working in this household had been taken in young and saved from death. More than merely surviving, they ate and grew up far better than they would have in an ordinary commoner household. The loyalty welling from their hearts was genuine, or at least their desire to remain here was.

Come to think of it, the child I was now about to meet was, strictly speaking, a character who had never appeared in the original story.

I remembered the butler. He was not a particularly important character, but he was someone present every time the Grace estate was visited in the game, and later he even served as an NPC who gave out sub-quests.

But the orphans I had forcibly foisted off on others back then were not.

Still, it was less uncomfortable than when I first met Lena, or when I encountered that strange... 'was it a man?' inside the dungeon.

At least I could guess why I was meeting these children in this manner.

And if I had kept staying here, those children would probably have called me something like older sister.

The thought made me feel a little strange.

"......."

Ah.

Realizing that Alice was gazing steadily at my face, I shifted my eyes slightly elsewhere.

What was done was done. Time could no longer... Well, it could no longer be turned ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠back to that moment, in any case.

If I had tried to find a way to escape Lucas, perhaps I might have managed it. If I had searched for a one-in-a-thousand, one-in-ten-thousand method, who could say.

But I had not done so. Even if it became possible to turn time back to that moment, I probably would not do it.

Well... yes.

Lucas was a little frightening, Jaden was annoying, and Bella was a bit irritating, but Alice was still good.

Dealing with Alice when she whined like a child—no, when she whined as a child—had not been as bad as expected. In the original story, she was a character who was always serious except when she occasionally did something unpredictable, and I had never had occasion to see her whining like that in person.

So that memory was too precious to write off as something that "never happened."

If the situation had been reversed, I would probably have felt the same way.

Given two options and told to choose one, I would agonize until I died, so it was far better simply never to experience one of them. Then I could give it up more easily.

"This way, please."

The butler guided us into the manor without the slightest hesitation toward the section where he and the staff resided. And the baroness followed behind as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

That meant they kept their rooms clean enough at all times that they would feel no shame if their master suddenly burst in.

"......."

Before we had arrived here, warm smiles had lingered on Alice's and Claire's faces, but after seeing my expression, their faces stiffened slightly. The first to change expression was Alice, and only after Claire looked back and forth between Alice and me did her own expression gradually stiffen.

What sort of expression was I wearing right now?

... Probably expressionless.

The kind of expressionless face that, even when I looked in a mirror, I myself could not read any emotion in.

That was the character concept I had chosen, after all.

*

Back on Earth, older busybodies had a habit of extolling their elementary-school years as a time of childhood innocence and fond memories, but I frankly never much agreed.

I wasn't sure whether my memory simply fell short compared to other people's, but I had few and faint memories of my elementary-school days.

A few children came to mind, but I usually could not recall either their face or their name.

So I had little in the way of what one might call memories. The fact that the tteokbokki shop in front of the school had been good was one of the few memories I possessed from elementary school.

Which was why, honestly, with a boy who looked a few years younger than me standing before me, I had to think for a long while to summon up his face.

But this boy, not yet fully emerged from childhood, seemed to have been a little different.