Chapter 141: Interlude Talk of the Impoverished Viscount’s Second Son
*
There’s no night that doesn’t end; paradoxically, this also means that a sun that has risen will inevitably set.
I think the world is truly well-made.
Setting off from Faltar as Erika Solntsalri’s fake elopement partner.
Blessed with the good fortune of being near the unattainable flower I, the second son of an Impoverished Viscount Household, had given up on ever reaching.
Not only that, but reasoning that we were husband and wife, albeit falsely, I even succeeded in giving her a ring.
Truly, the sun has risen on my life.
Right now, everything before my eyes is sparkling.
Not because I’m looking at a meadow glittering in the low morning sun, but because of my state of mind.
I’m currently engaged in a little task north of Faltar, starting early in the morning.
Specifically, I’m searching for flowers. Flowers to give to Erika, of course.
Why am I wandering a meadow at dawn just to give flowers?
It’s because the City of Hecate doesn’t have anything like a flower shop.
When I, wanting to give Erika flowers, secretly asked Shara-san about it, I was informed of the reality that “Of course there’s no such thing as a flower shop here.”
When I reflexively muttered, “Even the barbarian world has flower shops,” Shara-san looked terribly shocked.
Well, that’s probably because I grew up in Faltar’s Royal Capital.
It’s normal for there not to be any flower shops.
Getting my shoes wet with morning dew, I search for flowers to give Erika.
This is, in other words, a light to prepare for the coming night.
Tomorrow, night will come for me too. A night called “Kind Barbara” will arrive.
Before that, I will give Erika flowers. When my master arrives, trouble is absolutely, undoubtedly going to occur.
Even I, who proclaims and acknowledges himself as unpopular with women, understand this:
There isn’t a shred of atmosphere in flowers given amidst trouble.
I possess at least that much sensitivity (delicacy).
I straighten up from my crouched position and stretch my back.
But reality is harsh.
“There are no flowers…”
As I muttered involuntarily, a carriage passed beside me.
It must be carrying supplies to the middle layers of the Demon Realm.
The Coachman is an adventurer, and the guards walking alongside the carriage show no carelessness, despite the Monster Repellent Magic Tool still being active nearby.
Among the adventurers who left the City of Hecate for our Promotion Exam, it seems the largest group were those heading on an expedition into the Demon Realm Forest.
Even though a week has passed since the Promotion Exam ended, they haven’t returned yet.
It’s not that something happened. It’s the opposite; apparently, they haven’t returned because things are going well.
I happened to be there when an injured adventurer returned to Hecate, so I cast Healing Magic on him, and he told me.
“Looks like we can do it too, huh,” was that adventurer’s comment.
The adventurer said this with a proud laugh before heading back into the Demon Realm, so their confidence must be genuine.
Incidentally, when I said, “In that case, I’ll be counting on you for the next Promotion Exam,” he burst out laughing and told me it was a bad joke.
I seriously want to question how you guys view us.
What did we do to deserve being rejected in comparison to fighting for your lives in the Demon Realm?
Turning my back to the voice calling out, “Hey, isn’t that Longdagger?” coming from the receding carriage, I resume my search for flowers.
It’s fine. I was basically solo back in Faltar too, and adventuring buddy-buddy with others isn’t really my style.
Damn it, I suddenly feel like seeing Beardy.
Remembering Beardy, aka Drim, whom I adventured with before in Noel Jeun Town, I wandered in search of flowers.
*
“A bouquet filling both arms.”
That’s a line from an opera, or maybe it was a play, that was popular in the Royal Capital.
Walking through Hecate in the early morning, not quite with both arms full, but with about one armful of flowers.
The sight of an obvious adventurer walking around carrying flowers stood out a bit, but for some reason, the neighborhood wives I passed praised me.
After wandering for about an hour more, I luckily found a place where flowers of various colors grew in clusters.
The thing about choices is, you’re troubled if you don’t have them, but you’re also troubled if you do.
Tired from choosing, I realized I had somehow ended up gathering only flowers with blue petals.
It’s definitely not because the face of blue-eyed Beardy flickered in my mind.
See, it’s because I like the color blue.
Making mysterious excuses to myself, I opened the door to our house.
Incidentally, our house has the living room and the rarely used kitchen right by the entrance.
It’s a common layout in older houses.
My eyes fall upon Erika drinking tea at the kitchen table.
Open the door, and there’s Erika. My life is the best.
But the surging sense of happiness didn’t last long.
Because I heard Shara-san’s laughter.
My spirit drained by the “Buhyahyahyahya” laughter of Shara-san, who’s supposed to be a Sister, I tell Erika, “I’m home.”
She must have noticed before I even opened the door; Erika replies with a gentle smile, “Welcome back, Shin.”
My life is the best.
My deflated euphoria swells up again.
“Ah, Shin-san, welcome back.”
The lingering scent of toasted bread, the drifting aroma of tea—even this happy space with Erika in it transforms into a very unfortunate one with just a single foreign element.
“Hey! What’s with that face, like you just found a single tile facing the wrong way on a beautifully paved cobblestone street?!”
“Your analogy is long, and besides, my current expression simply means ‘Go home.'”
“Erika-sama, Shin-san is being mean!”
She’s energetic for so early in the morning, I think, putting my own flower-searching wanderings before sunrise completely out of mind.
“Putting that aside,” Erika says, brushing off Shara-san’s protest with a wry smile.
“What about those flowers?”
For a moment, I hesitate on how to answer Erika’s question.
Saying “They’re for you” is easy, but the atmosphere (mood) is absolutely not right.
It would be better when, at the very least, the crazy Sister who tries to fight even with bones sticking out of her stomach isn’t around.
Therefore.
“I thought the house could use a little color.”
I offer the excuse I had prepared in case Erika refused the flowers.
“I see. It’s true that our home lacks color for a house welcoming the Maiden of Light’s party.”
Erika gives a smile like she’s holding something back.
“Besides, choosing blue flowers is thoughtful. It’s the same as her eye color.”
Does “her” mean the Maiden of Light?
I didn’t intend it, but it seems like it was a good choice for welcoming guests.
“For you, it’s uncharacteristically roundabout, but I am the one forcing such a position on you.”
As I’m thinking, ‘So the Maiden of Light’s eyes are blue,’ Erika speaks with a smile tinged with slight loneliness.
“Therefore, while I know I have no right to say this, I’m sure your feelings will be conveyed.”
Her best friend is coming from her homeland to see her; perhaps that has stirred up feelings of homesickness.
Unlike me, she has given up many things.
Ah, no, that’s wrong.
Things she was forced to give up.
I stroke my jaw, which was about to tense up.
“It’s not like I chose these flowers with any particular intent, nor do I recall being forced into anything by you, Erika, but…”
One of our household furnishings, which are strangely abundant but rarely used.
I pick up a vase lightly coated in dust from the shelf.
“I am perfectly satisfied. After all…”
I arrange the flowers in the vase and place it in the center of the table.
“I chose to be here.”
Shara-san, whose tea now had a leaf in it that fell from the vase, looked annoyed.
*
Quickly toasting bread for myself, I nibble on it while sipping the tea Erika brewed for me.
“So,” I start to say while my mouth is full.
Erika gives me a slightly scary look for my bad manners, so I hastily swallow.
“Shara-san,
“You are certainly Shin Longdagger, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are a noble, does it? Being tempted by something free is, frankly, a bit too naive, wouldn’t you say?”
For nobles, whose business relies on face, ‘free’ often ends up being excessively expensive. There are many sarcastic remarks aimed at fools who are lured by ‘free’ only to pay a high price.
Even if someone were to say, “You sound just like Baron So-and-so when he asked for water,” I wouldn’t understand it, though.
“But well, what Erica says is true.”
I say it with the unspoken meaning that I’m curious about the church’s intentions. Shara probably won’t get it, but Erica likely will.
When I glance her way, she nods as if to say, “Well done.”
“Are you really worrying about noble matters now? You, Shin-san?”
Despite being a Barbarian.
Shara’s exasperated voice is irritating.
“Even Barbarians have face (mentsu), you know. In fact, Barbarians kill each other over face.”
“Monkeys fighting over bananas are more civilized than that, aren’t they?”
She’s absolutely right, but both Erica and I were born and raised too well to simply nod along readily. My friend Jen would probably burst out laughing and agree, though.
So, I just shrug it off.
“I grew up in a world where people kill each other over that kind of face, you see. That’s why I’m cautious.”
I gently preface that it’s not out of malice or suspicion.
“So, well, let’s drop that subject. To be blunt, even though we’re nobles from another country, if word got out that we didn’t even make an offering to the church, the reputation of the Longdagger Family—already said to have nothing but history—would fall to a level that’s really not funny.”
A noble family that doesn’t even have enough for an offering to the church—that’s bad publicity that even my family, known for its poverty, has never suffered. It’s too late for me, but it would be unwanted bad publicity for my older and younger brothers.
“Well, if that’s the case, we can consider the church’s token of gratitude some other time.”
Just as I first thought, Shara shows with her attitude that she doesn’t mind being refused. At her words, I ask Erica with just my eyes, and receive a nod of agreement in return.
Seeing this, Shara makes a ‘well, it can’t be helped’ sort of face and starts to stand up.
“Well then, I should be going—”
Seeing Shara about to take her leave, an idea suddenly strikes me.
“Shara, do you have plans after this?”
At my question, Shara, who had started to rise, settles back into her chair.
“No, not particularly. What is it? Are you going hunting Monsters or something?”
I shake my head at Shara’s question.
“Today, we’re practicing being a normal married couple in preparation for the Maiden of Light’s party arriving tomorrow.”
For some reason, all emotion drains from Shara’s face.
“Could you watch us for a bit? I’d like you to point out anything strange.”
“Isn’t that a murder threat?!”
What the hell does she mean by that?
“You ate the bread, didn’t you? Neither Erica nor I really understand what a normal commoner couple is like.”
She has to die for a single piece of bread!?
What does she hate so much? Shara laments the price of a single piece of bread.
Seeing that, a sarcastic remark slips out.
“Why are you making a voice like Baron Whatsisname when he asked for a cup of water?”
“Baron Seb.”
Erica supplies the name.
“Right, right, you sound like Baron Seb.”
I remark sarcastically that ‘free’ from a Barbarian is indeed such an expensive thing.
“Who is Baron Seb!?”
That’s what anyone would think, right?
Seeing Shara shouting, I thought that noble sarcasm really is hard to understand.