The Key to Verdan's Tower
Stepping out of the Grand Duke's office, I found old Count Norbert waiting for me.
"......Nothing untoward happened, I trust?"
"That floor down below."
"......."
"The Grand Duke's... personal training hall, was it?"
"I see he's already told you."
"Yes......"
Why was it, I wondered. A brief encounter with the Grand Duke had proven more of an ordeal than an entire day trailing after maids through the work quarters, learning their trade.
It felt as though every ounce of energy left in my body had been siphoned clean away.
As I suspected. We're fundamentally incompatible.
He was my enemy, yes — but for a fleeting moment, I had thought of him as a worthy opponent, someone I could cross blades with in earnest. There had been such an instant, however brief.
An enemy is still an enemy.
I swore it anew: I would take that man's head and lay it at Serhin's feet.
As I trudged along after Norbert, a question suddenly occurred to me.
"Master. Why don't you check whether I've actually memorized the books?"
Norbert answered with sublime indifference.
"I observed it with my own eyes. That is sufficient."
"That loosely?"
"I will verify the rest piece by piece as we go. It is not your concern."
"Ah. Understood."
Well, from my perspective, I'd ended up with a private training hall out of the deal, so there was nothing to complain about.
Ah. The private training hall.
The image of it rose again in my mind — that hall I would now be sharing with the Grand Duke. My head throbbed. Far worse than it had facing him on any battlefield.
Just then, Norbert pulled something from the pocket at his breast and tossed it to me.
"Here. Take it."
"Huh?"
I caught the flying object in both hands, and it gave off a light metallic clink.
"The key to His Grace's personal training hall."
"......!"
My eyebrows shot up as I stared at him. Norbert continued without missing a beat.
"Behind the knights' dormitory stands Verdan's Tower. It is the tallest building in the entire ducal estate — you will know it the moment you lay eyes on it."
Ah. I recalled a building I'd glimpsed in passing — a tower, enormously tall and impossibly old-looking. The Count had walked me through every structure on the estate, yet that one alone he had pointedly skipped.
So that's where your office and the Grand Duke's training hall were.
I looked down at the key, picturing the tower's silhouette. Norbert went on.
"My office is on the fourth floor. The third, beneath it, holds His Grace's personal training hall — which will henceforth be yours."
"......."
I nodded feebly. Norbert paused, choosing his words, then spoke again.
"Do not so much as wonder about the other floors, and give no thought to entering them. They belong to the training halls and offices of the family's other vassals."
"I wasn't curious about the other floors to begin with."
Even in the face of my rock-solid answer, Norbert could not quite smother his unease, and offered one more warning for good measure.
"It is by my promise to you alone that you are permitted to come and go from that tower at all. By your station and standing, it is a building you could never presume to enter. Use it quietly. Very, very quietly."
"Have no fear, Master."
"......."
I had been nodding along when a question slipped out.
"May I use it right away?"
"Should I judge that it interferes with your duties, I will confiscate that key on the spot."
"That will never happen, so worry not. May I use it right now?"
"......Yes."
I bowed crisply to Count Norbert.
"Then I'll take my leave first."
And I headed straight up to my room. I changed into training clothes I had asked Norbert to procure for me in advance, and slipped back out of the dormitory building.
By that hour, the main house stood dark — every lamp extinguished save those in the Grand Duke's office and a handful of the work quarters. Somehow, it looked desolate.
Time to hurry.
Two years, starting today. To reclaim my former strength within two years, I would have to shave my sleep thin and stretch my hours of training long.
I circled wide around the knights' dormitory and vaulted the wall — and there it stood, exactly as Norbert had described: the towering spire.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
My heart was pounding. A heart that had stayed quiet even on the worst battlefields now beat loud and fast at the sight of that tower.
This is where it begins.
After all, 'Sia' had climbed to her position from nothing, owning nothing at all. The first time is hard. The second time is easy.
And I was about to embark on the second attempt. I would succeed. No question about it.
Two years later.
Snow had piled layer upon layer across the vast gardens of the ducal estate — as much snow as the time that had slipped by. This was the cold North, where spring, summer, and autumn brushed past in the blink of an eye before the long winter arrived.
The Ballot ducal house, awakened from its peaceful slumber, was as bustling and full of life as ever.
"Who brought sprouted potatoes in here?! Is nobody paying attention?! You couldn't even check them properly, and this is how you do your job? Are your eyes just decoration?!"
Head Chef Lend's thunderous bellow shook the kitchen to its rafters.
"You'd serve this to His Grace?! Huh?!"
At that, the kitchen staff moved with lightning speed, and the offending potatoes vanished in an instant. Once the brief storm had passed, Lend rapped his knuckles against the heap of meat piled on the counter and announced,
"Right, today we'll be using the fresh lamb that came in yesterday. Michelle, you're on salad duty. Alto, you trim the garnish vegetables. And—"
Having rapidly dealt out the day's tasks, Lend set to work on the meat himself.
A few counters away, Anna, who was washing vegetables, murmured under her breath.
"The head chef's really wound up today, isn't he?"
Riel gave a small laugh. "Can you blame him? Today's the day His Grace comes home."
"Oh, right! That's so true!" Anna clapped her hands in agreement.
One year ago, Kadrian had ridden out to war. It was the first campaign since the day black magicians had appeared in the Remarte Disputed Territory — and despite the long lull, he was returning having seized victory flawlessly and completely. A homecoming after a full year.
"Oh, look — it's Freya."
Anna, who had been peering out the window, spotted Freya walking toward the garden. At her words, Riel's gaze followed.
Behind Freya trailed Celly, the youngest maid in the entire estate, and Celly's older brother, Jhon.
"So she is."
"She looks crazy busy again today, huh?"
"Yeah."
"No time left to play with us, I bet."
"Well...... probably not, yeah."
Riel gazed after Freya with a wistful look and murmured to herself. It feels like only yesterday she was peeling potatoes right beside me......
Six months ago, Freya had become the butler. The heart of the household itself — the one who resolved the family's great matters and small, bearing responsibility for its honor and traditions, its order and dignity. A post long considered the exclusive domain of men, and Freya had claimed it as her own.
"Heehee, what a sharp outfit."
Anna complimented Freya in the slurred drawl of a fruit-vendor uncle deep into his cups. Riel snorted with laughter.
Freya's butler uniform was, from its very conception, unlike anything worn by butlers of other noble houses. It was a custom ensemble made specially for her at Count Norbert's instruction. When the estate's first-ever female butler sparked a minor squabble over whether she should wear a dress or trousers, Freya had chosen trousers without a moment's hesitation — on the grounds that a dress would hinder her mobility.
The simple pairing of black trousers and a white shirt did the opposite of diminishing her; it threw Freya's singular presence into sharp relief. Luxurious lace and frills trimmed the pristine white top that set off her fair skin, and the design — neither excessively ornate nor spartan — radiated a strict, upright professional dignity.
How is it that a butler's uniform can look that good on someone.
She looked somehow valiant, like a young noble lord attending a banquet — and heart-stoppingly handsome, more so than any pretty man alive.
These days, no matter where I look, I can't see the old Freya the maid underneath anymore.
She was no longer the girl whose stamina lagged behind her knowledge, forever tripping into one mishap after another.
Just as Riel and Anna stood transfixed, watching Freya from the window, a roar like a wild beast's cry came hurtling from behind them.
"Hey there! Enough gabbing! Riel, Anna — herbs and seasonings, now! Move it!"
"Ah — yes, Chef!"
"Yes sir! Let's go, let's go!"
The two of them turned their reluctant footsteps away from their distant view of Freya.
"So this is the poisonous weed?"
Patrick, the head gardener, handed me a glass vial containing the plant. It was the poisonous weed that had suddenly begun spreading across the whole of the Cadea Empire.
Looks like ordinary grass to me.
I tucked the vial against my chest and nodded. "I'll send this to the Magic Tower. If you find any more, let me know right away."
"Will do!"
I watched Patrick's retreating back for a moment, then found myself glancing up at the sky. Snow-laden clouds drifted lazily across a blue sky steeped in winter's chill — and just then, a sudden gust of wind brushed against my skin.
My senses, honed to a razor's edge, reacted sharply.
Vibration. Sound.
He's coming. The Grand Duke.
I could feel it. In my mind's eye, the army led by the Grand Duke came rolling toward me like a wave.
I gazed at the far-off Hertia Mountain Range, draped in fresh white snow — the highest place in the Cadea Empire, where the World Tree said to guard the continent lay sleeping.
Whoosh— The wind blew, and even the frozen forest on the distant range swayed.
Call it exaggeration if you like, but it felt as though a little more focus, and I could have met the Grand Duke's eyes from here.
I couldn't stop the corner of my mouth from climbing upward. At the same time, I quietly curled my fingers into a fist.
Welcome back, my dear Grand Duke.
Hurry home and see for yourself.
See how magnificently I've grown. See whether I've become someone you cannot do without.
And so...... whether you've finally found it in yourself to tell me every secret you've been hiding all this time.
Two hours to go.
I turned back around to run the final, final checks.