Chapter 1. I'm screwed! (8)
Chapter 1. I'm screwed! (8)
"Have you ever seen children crying and throwing a tantrum?"
"Uh......."
"They're only the size of a chestnut, yet they pull all sorts of faces to try and beat an adult, crying loud enough to wake the dead. If you're next to them, it feels like your eardrums are about to burst. They can't be controlled with words, either; you can explain why they can't have that thing right now, or why they can only eat their own share, but they don't understand a word of it. No, even if they do understand, they pretend they don't. They use those tiny hands to try and snatch things from other tiny hands, and they'll even smack the heads of other children who are just as weak as they are."
I hated children, too.
I've never been married, nor have I given birth to a child, so I don't know for sure, but I probably would have felt the same way about my own child. And I would have hated it to death if they were compared to other kids.
But the story didn't end there.
"Sometimes, I feel like giving up on everything. No, actually, it's worse than that. I want to smack their heads, throw them away, and every time they make those strange noises, I want to slap them across the cheek to make them shut up. How comfortable would that be if I could just do it? My anger would be vented, and the children would be quiet."
"Is...... that so?"
And surprisingly, Rosalyn was terrified.
Not many people say things like that in front of Rosalyn. Rosalyn has hit people with her own hands and screamed at the top of her lungs that she'd kill them, but she's never been hit by someone else or scolded by anyone. So, the things Monk Arno is saying right now sound like they're directed at Rosalyn.
If Monk Arno were to pounce on Rosalyn right here—well, who knows if he'd succeed. Erna is outside the office, and Frida is in here, too.
But if he were holding a knife in his robes, he could throw it at me. He could even smack my head with something he grabbed.
Since wounds can be healed with magic, no scars would remain. Even if he smacked my head, it would just hurt and end there.
It's just that Rosalyn is deathly afraid of that kind of 'pain'—
"However."
Arno continued his story with an expression no different from usual.
"That is not the fault of those little ones, is it?"
"......Is that so?"
"What can you do about how they were born? It's because they don't know yet. Behavior can be corrected through learning as they grow, and in truth, they just don't understand their surroundings properly because their brains aren't fully developed yet, so shouting at them won't solve anything. They all have problems in their heads, but isn't that something time will resolve?"
Arno looked at me quietly and said.
"I must have been like that in my childhood, too. In those days of my youth that I've completely forgotten, there must have been days when I lunged at my parents, screamed at the top of my lungs, and twisted my face into a grotesque expression while throwing a tantrum. But my parents endured me during that period, and as a result, I was able to grow up like this."
"Hmph."
I scoffed.
"That's just how it is because it can't be helped. If you have truly good parents and overflowing money like a young lady, you can live like that."
"Is that so? But not everyone lives with that kind of money. Isn't that why you came to our orphanage?"
"......."
"Most people who don't know any better laugh at me. They say those brats will listen if you just beat them up a little. There are many who say it's enough to just herd them into one place, feed them, and let them sleep. After all, they aren't children of nobles."
That's right.
There is no such thing as a Charter of Children's Rights here. In fact, it would be correct to say that the concept of human rights itself hasn't taken root to that extent. There is a religion with Christian-like doctrines centered on a Goddess, but looking at the crusades and such that were carried out in the name of that religion on Earth up until the Middle Ages, this world wouldn't be any different.
The 'weak' in this era mostly refers to nobles or commoners who can properly declare their affiliation. It's just packaged with nice words, but in reality, that 'protection' is closer to 'I will protect you if it helps me.'
Orphans and the elderly are subjects of protection, but naturally, there are no orphanages or nursing homes in the 'modern sense.' Relief centers for the poor often forced them to work or left them in conditions bordering on neglect. It can't be helped. They will protect them somehow by the will of God, but there is almost no foundation to make that possible in the first place.
It is also the case that the name of Monk Arno, who already had his head cut off in the original work, is mentioned several times. Ironically, in the game, one could say that Rosalyn elevated his name to a high place by killing Monk Arno.
"What is the story behind you telling a young lady such things? Does it mean that since I am that kind of person, you will no longer accept help?"
"No, it's the opposite. I was talking about people. Most people tell me, 'Why do you buy yourself such trouble?' And yet, when I talk about these things openly, they start acting high and mighty and interfering, as if they were better people than I am from that moment on."
Arno smiled as he looked at me.
"Who else would I tell these things to, if not to Duke Gakha?"
"......."
"Your Grace."
Arno shifted his posture slightly and said.
"Of course, you and I are different. I have a personality that can endure such things, but you cannot, Your Grace. The same goes for other nobles. So, would it be alright if I made a different proposal?"
"Speak."
"From the position you are in, Your Grace, you can sufficiently support us. Even if you do not come in person, you can help with money and people. And that alone will be a big enough help."
"Didn't you say that simply helping with money is not the shortcut to heaven?"
"There is no such thing as a shortcut to heaven. No one knows the way to go there directly. We just grope our way forward in the dark, searching for the faint light shining from a distant place."
Arno paused for a moment and looked at me.
"Duke Gakha seems to at least have the will to find that path, which is why I came to tell you this."
So, in a roundabout way, isn't he just saying that donating money to the Church is the way to heaven?
No, if he had just asked for it without making me work from the start, it would have been easier for both of us. I could have gotten some sleep at night, too.
But I can't say that to his face.
"Very well. Then I shall do that."
But at the very least, my actions seem to have changed the way Monk Arno looks at me. If so, I am satisfied with that for now.
"Thank you, Your Grace."
Monk Arno stood up from his seat and bowed to me.
"I shall take my leave now."
"Do so. I will have someone send the money before long."
And I should go and check on them sometimes, too.
If you leave subordinates alone for too long, they don't do their work properly. If I don't show up periodically to show that I'm watching, all sorts of incidents and accidents will break out.
That is the reason why the Duke consistently visits the lands of his vassals.
Arno bowed slightly to his niece, Frida, and left the office.
I let out a long sigh and leaned back in my chair.
Is one thing resolved with this?
"......."
Well, I don't know yet. At least it's a good thing that Monk Arno has come to view me favorably, but the content of the conversation we just had still weighs on my mind a little.
People who keep doing work they don't want to do are bound to break down someday.
In the original work, his head was cut off before that, so no incident occurred, but what about here?
......Alright, let's not worry about it.
The game I played was only called an adult game, but in reality, it was a strategy simulation. Aside from stories about the Saintess or victims, detailed stories weren't even properly implemented in the first place.
"Frida."
"Yes, Your Grace."
"I understand that Arno is your uncle."
"That is correct. However, since he became a monk, he abandoned the family name......."
"Is that sort of thing important?"
As if.
If a noble gets entangled with the Church, even if they don't use the surname on the surface, they are bound to receive the influence of that family as it is.
Why do you think he became the 'Parish Deputy' in this place? There are others who have been monks for much longer than him, and there are quite prestigious priests, too.
"If your uncle were to go to the Empire's parish and rise to a higher position, what do you think he would think? I wonder if he would resent me for taking his job away from him in this place."
"That is...... I don't see my uncle very often, so I don't know. However, I think my uncle would definitely be happy."
"Is that so?"
Hmm.
I suppose I'll keep that in mind for now.
If it's true that Monk Arno entered the order 'only to perform asceticism and service,' then my proposal was just a useless act. He might even think I'm belittling him.
......In the end, I have no choice but to visit a few more times.
I thought to myself with a deep sigh.
Well, still.......
"It's better than when we were totally screwed."
"Your Grace?"
Frida was horrified at my muttering.