Chapter 22
Chapter 22
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: The War Hero Becomes the Baron Young Lady's Butler (5)
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After listening to the maids' stories and using the restroom.
"Miss, I have a question about the banquet."
I picked up one of the sorted reply letters.
"When I was taking down your words, I noticed something. Why did you limit the participants to just three people?"
"......"
Diela's expression hardened as she sat in her chair resting.
She hung her head low, sighing deeply, as if I'd pointed out a sensitive issue or exposed a shameful secret.
It wasn't very ladylike behavior.
But as the heir and head of the family, and as the daughter of a father reduced to a vegetative state, her actions demanded my serious attention. I stood squarely before her.
"Are you not attending the banquet yourself, Miss?"
"Yes, that's the plan."
"Why not? From reading these invitations, it seems attending a noble banquet is quite an important networking opportunity."
"You're right. Nobles don't hold banquets just to enjoy drinks and food. They're battlegrounds for exchanging vital information, discussing business, and scouting suitable heirs for alliances between families."
It felt a bit off to nitpick that nobles were jumping straight into heir-hunting right after the war ended twelve years ago.
"To put it simply, noble society banquets are..."
Because the Grates Kingdom had done the same, and even during the war, nobles held banquets multiple times.
It wasn't purely bad; it was a matter of frequency and scale.
-Wilhelm Count, I know you don't like appearing before nobles, but would you give a speech? One commemorating the fallen.
-I can give a speech anytime, but is there some purpose behind it?
-If you speak, I'll establish a fund for the war dead and make the first donation. The others at the banquet will follow suit, reading the room.
-If that's the case, sure.
Through memorial services for the fallen or victory celebration banquets, we managed to raise quite a bit for donations to the war dead.
'Back then, fleecing the princess and the nobles felt pretty good in its own way.'
Looking back on those twelve years, my relationship with the princess had been ideal.
I handled the brute force, she the strategy.
Not just on the battlefield, but at noble banquets too—we turned those events into opportunities by catching poison-laced wine servers or eliminating assassins.
Even that clever woman might have lost her judgment in the face of the number '37'.
Or maybe when people get impatient or frustrated, they make slightly irrational decisions.
Like Diela here, right now.
"...So in conclusion, noble banquets are far more political and economic than you'd think."
"Then if you send the Baroness and her daughters instead of going yourself, won't your position get pushed aside?"
"Exactly. Having women represent the Arsin Barony is awkward enough at a banquet, but them being commoners who remarried their way onto the family register tarnishes our name even more."
Diela's words weren't her looking down on commoners.
"As you saw in some letters, there were hints not to come if the Baroness and her daughters planned to attend."
"Because they were common-born?"
"Yes. Such... fools. I'm not blindly taking sides over their status issues, but..."
Diela gave a bitter smile, fiddling with one of the letters.
"Even Hero Sir Hans Wilhelm was a commoner. What's the difference between commoners and nobles?"
"Sir Hans Wilhelm..."
I suppressed my mana.
I'm Yuri now, not Hans Wilhelm.
"Merit from war turning commoners into nobles probably doesn't sit well with the nobility."
"Usually, yes. But many nobles died over those twelve years of war, and there was strong sentiment that those who fought with their lives deserved proper treatment."
Diela placed a hand on her chest and patted it lightly.
"The moment war broke out, some nobles surrendered to the Empire, defected, or fled. Commoners rose up instead, grabbing spears and swords against the Empire."
That happened early in the war.
My region held firm, but neighboring lords fled with their kin the second Empire troops appeared on the outskirts.
Such incidents were rampant, shifting perceptions of nobles across the continent.
Did they uphold noblesse oblige?
Did they show responsibility as lords during the war?
Just like Hans Wilhelm earning his title through war merits, plenty of commoners became nobles.
In that atmosphere, the Baroness earned her title through her mercenary feats, right?
"No one in the family disputes that she saved Father. She's a noble now, and Father added her daughters to the register, so that's fine. Only..."
"Some issue?"
"With Father collapsed from some unknown illness, seeing his remarried wife and her daughters chase every party while ignoring him looks terrible."
"...I think I get it a little."
Memory loss made analogies tricky, but I had to say something.
"While you're suffering from overwork like this, them fretting over new dresses for banquets doesn't look good."
"......"
Dress.
Gotcha.
The one thing Diela had tried to avoid mentioning—the most sensitive issue in the Arsin Barony right now.
"Miss, by the way, if the banquet's here at the barony, will you change into a dress too?"
"Why ask that?"
Bingo.
The moment I, whom she saw as an ally, touched a sore spot, her defenses went up.
"Well, dresses are... hard for me to help with."
"......"
Was she imagining changing into a new dress right now?
I could feel my chest swelling at the thought of Diela in the perfect dress, but unlike my fantasy, it was a cruel impossibility for her.
The issue wasn't me helping her dress—it was that she couldn't even entertain the idea of wearing a 'new dress' herself.
"Miss?"
"...One thing first."
Diela fiddled with the casual clothes she was wearing.
"With Father bedridden, holding a banquet at the barony feels off."
"Ah, I see."
Some '18th' crawled out for a victory banquet, threw chaos, and went right back in—but I shouldn't say that.
"And second. Embarrassing as it is, there's something temporary butler Yuri needs to know."
"Please, what is it?"
"About ninety percent of the family budget goes through the Baroness. Before Father lost consciousness, he handed most affairs to her, leaving me just managing the armory inside the mansion."
"Such...?"
It stunned me as Yuri, and even more as Hans Wilhelm.
"The armory... to you?"
Of all things, the armory?
"Yes. He barely gave me any real duties. Or maybe, due to a sliver of suspicion toward her, he assigned the family armory to me. ...Of course, that's just my speculation. Skip it."
Diela waved it off and picked up a letter.
She seemed reluctant to delve into the armory, so I didn't press.
"The key point is Father entrusted all family matters to her before collapsing. Meanwhile, I've been following her orders while finding what I can do..."
"......"
"If I said I wanted to go to a banquet, wouldn't she call me an unfilial daughter eager for parties while Father's down? Even though she's the Baroness."
Diela bowed her head with an obvious bitter smile.
"Father too. I get she saved his life, but he should've realized she wasn't approaching out of love."
Indeed.
Diela knew.
Her own father had been bitten by a gold-digger, harming the family, retainers, and even his own daughter.
"Sorry. Too heavy a topic?"
"No, Miss. It clarified the barony's situation. Might be overstepping, but..."
I pointed to some invitations.
"In this situation, you should step onto the social battlefield yourself. If skipping means getting culled and pushed out, you must face their schemes head-on with dignity."
"Yuri..."
"As your butler—no, as a person—I'll support you fully. Just say the word. What do you need? Shall I pick a dress that suits you?"
"...The dress issue is part of why I can't go."
Diela blushed faintly, moving the hand on her chest aside.
"I have dresses. From a year ago."
"Out of fashion?"
"No, not fashion..."
Diela pressed her chest with her hand and cleared her throat.
"Size... reasons."
"......Pardon?"
"It's awkward to say, but..."
Diela flushed, gazing proudly at her bosom.
"Thanks to Continental Shield, Hero Sir Hans Wilhelm, they grew two sizes."
"......"
?
"Now... um, H-cup by Empire standards."
"Daughters. Remember this. That thing is probably still pulling her witchy tricks on that man who might be a high foreign noble."
"Yes, Mother."