Operation Meigan
The servants' lounge in the Blanya manor.
Meigan had scarcely managed a proper word to Luce before she reached the estate and collapsed onto a bed in the lounge, soaking the pillow with her tears. Perhaps because the sight was nothing like what they had expected, most of the manor's maids and ladies' maids were either packed into the room or hovering just outside it.
She had already been weeping as if her heart would break for a full hour. Only when she seemed, at last, to be settling did Emily—one of the few who could claim to be close to her—venture a careful question.
"Meigan, what in the world happened in Caipol? Last I heard, things were going well."
"They were going well..."
She had cried so long that her voice itself was fraying. Everyone around her swallowed hard and waited for whatever came next.
"Because of House Edfork..."
"What? That House Edfork?"
The murmurs that followed seemed almost to prove the weight of the name. Meigan gave them a little space to whisper among themselves.
"There was a rumor the young master had grown close to Lady Yulia!"
"Who'd you hear that from?"
"Hans."
"Oh. Then it's certain..."
Hearing that, Meigan could not help a fresh surge of admiration for Yulia's foresight. She might have staged the whole scene herself, but without Yulia's name attached to it, none of this would have taken. She would find a way to thank her later.
At some point the murmuring died, and every eye swung back to her. Meigan lowered her voice as if she were confiding a terrible secret.
"The young master worked so hard, and then at the very end the contract with House Edfork fell through. The losses were enormous..."
"D-did they just tell you to come back down to the manor, too?"
"No..."
"Then what?"
"I came to fetch people. People who will work with us..."
The scattered voices cut off. One by one, the servants began to ease a step back from her, then another. A few even ducked behind someone else so their faces would not be seen.
Meigan, of course, was taking in every last one of those little scenes. She buried all of it, let her shoulders sag, and went on.
"We're at the point where we'd borrow a cat's paws if they'd help."
"......"
"The young master left the choosing to me. He meant to come himself, but things simply would not allow it."
Well? How's that?
With those words she let her gaze sweep everyone in the lounge. Out of the silence came a voice so awkward it nearly cracked.
"Oh! I forgot to water the garden flowers today!"
"I—I was supposed to dust the mistress's paintings!"
"I should change the kitchen tablecloths ahead of time."
One after another they fled the lounge in a hurry. Meigan did not bother committing those particular faces to memory. A reaction like that was only natural. In their place, she would have wanted to get out of a room full of eyes and ears and think before she spoke.
What she was keeping were the words that mattered more.
"See? Business isn't easy. Did he think just anyone could do it?"
"The young master... well, of course."
"Honestly, I knew it would come to this. Just sooner than I expected."
"Told you so. People don't change like that."
Margaret. Lucy. Doris.
Every one of them has to go.
The sort who, the moment something went wrong, smirked and said they had known all along—people like that must never, ever be left at Young Master Blow's side. If his ventures were a voyage toward some distant point, there would be days of storm, days of high seas, days when some nameless sickness ran through the ship. And every time, those three would be there with their useless talk, and talk like that spread easily, until it infected people who had been perfectly sound.
Meigan considered herself lucky. After Jane had briefly chosen wrong, and the young master had laid out the particulars of his own situation for them, not one of the others had wavered. Melo, Hans, Rowbedi, Linne. Those were the people they needed now—people who could stand as the young master's sturdy pillars.
In any case, she fixed those three names precisely in her memory.
Later, if you cling to the young master's trouser legs and beg, I might let you sweep a floor.
She sat on with a face sunk in gloom. Alfred slipped into the butlers' side of the lounge and glided to a stop before her.
"Meigan."
"Butler..."
"The mistress is asking for you."
"I'll go at once."
She rose and followed him toward Luce's rooms. As she passed, a few voices rustled just loud enough to be heard.
"Heavens, the girl's face is half what it was."
"Tsk. That's why I said not to go."
"Wanted to grab a share of the fortune, didn't she? As if the rest of us stayed behind because we couldn't."
Chloe. Sophie.
Meigan added two more names to the list. Why? Because they had no manners. To spit talk like that at Meigan Browngrass, the future head maid—words that, short of insulting the young master himself, ought never to leave a person's mouth.
A little later she reached the chambers of Luce, mistress of the house. Through the open door she could see Slot, head of the family; Romang Greenhill, Melo's mother; and Luce herself. She was still offering her courtesy from the threshold when Alfred's low voice came.
"...I'll remain outside. Speak freely."
"Thank you, Alfred."
The door closed. Meigan stepped in and was still reading their faces when Luce, who had been studying her outright, broke into laughter.
"Meigan..."
"Yes, my lady."
"How shall I put it... you're a more frightening girl than you look."
Meigan let the gloom fall clean off her face. The three of them met one another's eyes and could not help laughing. Slot, deciding that such a display ill suited the dignity of the head of the house, drifted toward the window as if he had business there.
"I'm sorry. Looking back, I think I overdid it."
"Not at all. The moment you stepped down from the carriage, even I nearly believed it."
"If it reached even you, my lady, then it was a success."
"Blow's business really is going well, isn't it? I'd heard as much, but I didn't press for details. I was afraid it might weigh on him."
"The young master is doing so well that he could not possibly be doing better. Among those who have come to see him so far are Lady Rachel of House Campbell, Lady Yulia of House Edfork, Marquis Deshang, and Grand Duke Björn of House Hetaya—"
"R-Rachel? You mean that Rachel, captain of the knight academy in the Imperial Capital?"
"Yes, my lord."
"And the marquis and Grand Duke Björn—when on earth—!"
"They came and went four days before I left for Blanya."
Slot, who a moment ago had surely been at the window, was suddenly at her side, speaking as if he could not believe his own ears.
"And why in the world did that boy Blow not tell me?"
"He agreed to take investments from Lady Rachel and Lady Skadi, and to collaborate with Lady Yulia, so there has been a great deal demanding his attention."
"What?"
"The restaurant and the potion shop have only just opened, as well. I imagine he meant to write once things had settled."
Meigan thought back over Blow's last few weeks, when there had not been a moment to blink. If even she had been run off her feet, there was no chance he had been in his right mind while coordinating all of it and attending Lady Rachel besides. The names she had just set down in the room were so staggering that Luce and Slot could manage nothing but the occasional gasp.
"What in the world..."
"The business is doing quite well. Both the restaurant and the potion shop are bringing in excellent sales. The young master has even said that someone like Jane may be allowed to return to school next year."
"A-and Blow? Has there been any talk of him going back to school?"
Worry ran ahead of Luce's words. Meigan hesitated, then answered.
"He hasn't decided, but Hans and I are doing our very best to persuade him!"
She had never actually said any such thing to Blow, but she decided she might as well collect a little credit while she was at it. Luce let out a long breath, as if she could already tell he had no thought of returning.
"Business is all well and good, but it would be better still if he finished school."
"There is one hopeful sign. Lady Yulia means to place Young Master Blow on the student council, so the chances of his returning are fairly high."
"Blow? On the student council?"
Slot Deblique's voice climbed in sheer disbelief. Realizing how loud he had been, he covered it with a pointless cough and picked up his teacup. Even so—that scoundrel of a son, on the student council? The student council, where one became a model for others and an object of envy. If that truly came to pass, he thought he would have nothing left to wish for.
"Meigan, I should like to hear the whole of it in more detail."
"Then I will tell you everything that has happened since we went down, in order, and at length."
From that moment Meigan laid it out with perfect clarity: Blow's duel, the contract with the monastery, the opening, the Black Bridge Gathering, the tomatoes, and the Ain. When Slot had heard it all, he stared blankly at Luce beside him.
"Sugar has been all anyone talks about at gatherings lately, and to think Blow had a hand in it..."
"Truly. And to think he even means to start a fashion for those tomatoes..."
"What I still cannot believe is that he spoke with Marquis Deshang and Grand Duke Björn. I feel as if I am dreaming."
Meigan cleared her throat and slipped carefully into their conversation.
"He was probably speaking with Marquis Deshang around today."
"Did he say what about?"
"I don't know exactly, but I suspect our young master is about to rise even higher."
Romang, silent until then, spoke with care.
"Meigan, I heard Melo is working for the Edforks in Caipol now. Is that true?"
"Ah, yes. She's settling in very well. She shares a room with me."
"So the young master kept his promise..."
"Yes. It was one of the things he minded most when he made the contract with House Edfork."
Romang breathed out in relief and nodded to Luce. Only then, her thoughts in order, did Luce smile and lift her teacup.
"I really must go up to Caipol at least once."
"See it once, and you'll be astonished."
"I never imagined he would grow so quickly."
Romang nodded as if she felt the same. By then Slot had taken a seat, and he spoke in a calm voice.
"Meigan, there is something I have been curious about."
"Yes, my lord."
"Since when have you followed Blow like this?"
Watching her answer, whenever the talk turned to Blow, with that same firm and lucid certainty, he had found his interest stirred. Meigan gave him a bright smile.
"When we moved into Hills, the young master said he would take the attic."
"The attic?"
"Yes. We offered him a room, but he said the sky was closer there, and he chose the attic on purpose."
"Well, now..."
"And for our sake, he had hot water run to every floor. Thanks to that, I no longer have to haul boiling water up and down in the morning, and I can start the day lightly. He has never once scolded us for nothing, and he has respected every word from me, from Hans, and even from Melo."
"Blow did?"
"Yes. If a servant would not give her loyalty to a master like that, then I don't believe there is anyone left worth giving it to."
Small reasons, but certain ones. In truth she could have spoken of her loyalty to the young master for fifteen hours and more, but Meigan decided this was enough. Anything, carried too far, turns to poison.
Even so, her words seemed to land. They were all nodding, barely visibly. Luce, her heart now fully open and her trust settled, smiled and asked,
"I understand Blow's business, and I understand your heart. So what do you mean to do here, and how?"
"If I might have a chance to address everyone tomorrow morning, I would be grateful."
"And what do you intend?"
"To separate the gems from the stones. The manor has people like Butler Alfred and Madam Romang, so it will be fine. But Caipol needs those who can stand as a hundred."
Luce met the eyes of her husband, the head of the house, and then spoke gently to Meigan.
"I'll see that it's arranged."
The next morning, the open ground before the manor garden.
The servants, all gathered, whispered in their little knots.
"Did you see Meigan yesterday? She talked with the mistress for ages."
"Well... she was in such a state, the mistress must have been shocked..."
"The young master—people don't change that easily, do they..."
"Hans is the only one I feel sorry for. What did that boy ever do wrong..."
Amid the rustle of such talk, Luce, Alfred, and a drawn, haggard Meigan finally emerged from the manor. She looked ready to collapse at any moment, her eyes half-shut with exhaustion. The air turned solemn at once. Luce gave her a look, and Meigan climbed onto the platform.
She drew a deep breath. A light turned in her eyes. Then, in a voice clear enough for every one of them to hear, she began.
"As you all know, the young master's business is in a truly dire state."