Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: The War Hero Becomes the Baroness's Butler (4)
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A short while later, in one of the spacious rooms of the Arsin Barony.
"What is that, Mother?!"
"That man is...!"
"Calm down, dears. He grabbed my wrist and twisted it."
"!!"
The two young ladies of the Arsin Barony, Jasmine and Rosmarin, had rushed straight to their mother to grill her about the arrogant man. But they faltered at the sight of the baroness's bandaged wrist and averted their eyes.
"H-He acted so rudely, and yet why...!"
"He may have lost his memory, but he carries himself like a noble who sees such rudeness as perfectly normal."
"What?"
"He could be someone far grander than a mere Arsin Baron. Right now, his memory's gone, but he might turn out to be a knight from another kingdom or something."
"A knight from another kingdom...!"
The sisters' eyes lit up in an instant at their mother's words, and they swallowed hard.
"W-Well, then that arrogance makes some sense. Teehee. Unlike knights from this backwater duchy, a knight from a kingdom would be the real deal—one who's awakened mana!"
"Not some knight from a duchy, but from a kingdom... He must be a noble for sure."
"That's why I'm holding back despite the humiliation of having my wrist grabbed."
"Ah, ahaha..."
The baroness, a former mercenary known for her rough and fierce temper, was suppressing her anger.
Just from this, her two daughters—raised under her—could tell how dangerous the man was... and what an incredible opportunity he presented.
"Don't you girls want to marry into a good family?"
"Yes!"
"Of course."
"Then let me ask you this. Would marrying some guy you scrounged up by wandering from party to party in this tiny barony of a duchy be a better match? Or would it be smarter to get involved with a man whose exact identity is unknown but who looks every bit like a high-ranking noble from another land, even if he's lost his memory?"
"Obviously... the latter."
Jasmine and Rosmarin nodded in unison.
"What if he falls for one of us, recovers his memory, and goes back to his homeland? Then he drags his knight order along, declares 'She's my wife,' scoops you up onto his horse, and... Kyaa!"
"Even if that arrogant guy doesn't see us as wife material, if he thinks we're good women, he might introduce us to nobles in his circle. Heh heh heh..."
"Exactly. So there's only one thing for you to do from now on."
The baroness wiggled her pinky finger lightly.
"Seduce him."
"......!"
"That wench Diela has surely pieced together everything we're talking about right now. Do you think she wouldn't realize that's exactly what I'm thinking? If it weren't, she never would've taken him on as her butler to figure him out in the first place."
"I see...!"
"As expected of Mother."
"Right. So give it your all to win that butler's favor. That's the only way you'll snag a good husband. Just imagine it."
The baroness placed her hands on her daughters' shoulders and twisted her lips into a smirk.
"Becoming noble ladies, lording over your inferiors as you please, basking in luxury and pleasure. That's the happiness a young woman in this peaceful age deserves. Ohohohoho!!"
[Meanwhile, in the Grates Kingdom. Prime Minister's office.]
About a week had passed since Hans Wilhelm's disappearance.
The Grates Kingdom could no longer deny that Hans Wilhelm, who hadn't shown his face publicly, was truly missing.
"Is this the propaganda from the Empire?"
"Yes, Prime Minister Winchester."
Prime Minister Winchester spread out the 'paper' his aide had brought him.
Unlike the widely used parchment in the kingdom, this was the pinnacle of printing techniques born from advanced magitech. It was densely packed with what the Imperials called 'news.'
A newspaper.
The very thing that had shocked Prime Minister Winchester during the war as an information tool—and which had prompted the kingdom to gradually prepare media controls.
At the top of the paper, in massive letters: 'Red Devil Missing'.
"Tell me, Viscount Langustin. Are they spreading rumors of a disappearance to provoke a war?"
"I doubt it. If you look closely at the Empire's editorial, they see Sir Wilhelm's vanishing as a test or trap aimed at the Empire."
"Makes sense. Announcing him missing would rile up the hawks' tempers right away..."
"And give them an excuse to purge the treaty supporters. This is the Empire's scheme."
Over twelve years of war, Prime Minister Winchester and the kingdom's Foreign Ministry had learned how the Empire wielded the press.
"The one misstep in their thinking might be suspecting this disappearance is Princess Sylvia's plot."
"...When in reality, he probably just dipped out because it felt like putting a marriage collar around his neck."
They were sharp enough to notice the Empire using editorials for domestic and foreign opinion warfare alike.
"What shall we do? Some nobles who saw the propaganda are taking it as truth."
"What are they saying?"
"That a 37-year-old spinster shamelessly tried to hook a young hero ten years her junior with power, and failed."
"From a kingdom's war hero to a cradle-robbing old maid in the blink of an eye."
"......Well."
Viscount Langustin, the prime minister's aide, glanced around cautiously before asking,
"Prime Minister. Is it true?"
"What?"
"That the princess truly loves Sir Wilhelm so much she went this far."
"......What?"
"That she fell for him at first sight on the battlefield twelve years ago, but the war dragged on so long she missed her chance."
"Do you think that makes any sense right now...? Hold on."
Prime Minister Winchester stood, crossing his arms.
"Personal feelings from the princess...?"
"Um, Your Excellency?"
"Not a premeditated plan between them, but something improvised because they know each other so well? No, it started as an accident, but building a flimsy framework to shape the war is their specialty. This could be..."
"Your Excellency. Please explain it plainly."
"...Just speculation. But if I'm right... this is an opportunity for us too."
"So tell me."
"I can't just blurt it out to you. If you're that curious, base it on my orders and figure it out yourself."
Prime Minister Winchester pointed to the image printed in the newspaper: a massive crater in an elven forest, like a meteor had struck.
"Let's have some fun with this too. In a way that benefits the Grates Kingdom."
"You mean make our own newspaper?"
"No. We don't have their convenient tech. But we do have human hands."
Prime Minister Winchester walked to the wall and pointed at the massive oil painting hanging there.
"Call the painters. Give them plenty of budget, and have them create high-quality oil paintings based on the themes I give."
"Wh-What...?"
"Two directions."
The prime minister held up two fingers.
"One group paints Sir Wilhelm spending time with unspecified women. The other paints him with just one: Princess Sylvia."
"Y-Your Excellency. What on earth...?"
"Not as a direct commission from the Grates Kingdom's Foreign Ministry. Make it from some shady, wealthy noble."
"So you're telling the painters to create fake paintings? Of Sir Wilhelm rolling around with various women?"
"Yes."
The prime minister lifted his head brazenly.
"It's fine. As long as they're not drawn weirdly or honorably damaging, what's the problem with splendid, handsome paintings based on the subject?"
"Still, without the subject's permission..."
"It's fine. It's all for the kingdom's—and the continent's—peace. If he doesn't like it, he'll come to me directly someday."
The prime minister swept his hand under the oil painting on the wall—a larger-than-life, 3-meter full-body portrait of Hans Wilhelm—and nodded vigorously.
"Tell the painters: plenty of budget, so let their imaginations run wild. Yes..."
He tapped the empty space beside Hans Wilhelm's portrait.
"Princess Sylvia in a wedding dress, walking hand-in-hand with him, cradling a baby that looks just like them both. That wouldn't be bad."
"Th-That..."
"I'll take full responsibility."
"What meaning does this even have, Your Excellency?"
"Someday you'll see it as one tool for continental peace."
"...In that case."
Viscount Langustin tentatively formed a circle with his fingers.
"Once word spreads that the painters are seriously at work, how about a secret auction for the nobles?"
"Secret auction?"
"Yes. For example... hmm."
Viscount Langustin subtly pointed to the empty space the prime minister had swept.
"Auction off a lady model where Sir Hans Wilhelm kneels and kisses the back of her hand. We save on budget, and the noble houses get those paintings safely..."
"Ha."
Prime Minister Winchester snapped his fingers.
"Do it right away."
Viscount Langustin couldn't grasp the plan's meaning at all, but as the prime minister's aide,
"Yes, Your Excellency."
his job was to follow orders.
After helping Diela write a reply to the party invitation.
"Cough."
He'd said he was stepping out to the bathroom for a moment, but the dust in the hallway outside her room made him cough briefly.
'Is someone up to something weird with me?'
It wasn't just the dust.
It wasn't physical dust at all. It was the sensation of mana flowing toward the existence called 'me,' rousing my senses.
On the battlefield, they'd call it 'killing intent.'
At the very least, someone was spinning strange tales about me.
'Normally, this kind of feeling hits when soldiers are gossiping behind my back.'
If someone were using me for shady opinion-mongering, it'd be the Empire or the prime minister—
no.
That would be slander targeting Hans Wilhelm specifically.
What bugged me right now was the defamation aimed at 'Butler Yuri,' the amnesiac.
"Hey."
At the end of the hallway.
From the crack in the door to the maids' break room, the voices of chatty maids carried over.
"Butler Yuri, you know."
"Yeah, what about him?"
"That guy's actually because Lady Diela..."
Ears perked up.
"...has no partner for the duchy ball, so she's taking him instead?"
Lady has no dance partner? Confirmed.
"What? No way. How's the lady gonna go to a ball?"
?
'Is there any reason the baron's daughter couldn't go to the duchy ball?'
"The lady doesn't even have a single dress."
"......."
Oh ho.