Chapter 36: Master and Servant
The honey-glazed walnuts and cranberry tart turned out quite delicious. Ash and the others seemed to enjoy it too, which was a relief.
Still, what was that Spirit doing here? Once they gain a certain level of power, they tend to develop a strong sense of self and dislike being controlled. The Spirits hoping for names are usually smaller than those currently cooperating with me. —Though there are a staggering number of them.
The answer came to me quickly.
“I’m sorry.”
“Huh? What’s wrong?”
I carried the dishes to the kitchen with Note and found him bowing his head there.
“The Spirit that ruined the tart is one of my subordinates.”
He glanced at the container of pickled vegetables as he spoke.
The container was trembling slightly. I sensed some kind of commotion inside, but I couldn’t hear the Spirit’s voice. If I allowed it to be audible, it would be too noisy to sleep at home.
I could hear Rishu’s voice, but he was very quiet; I had never heard him bark. Wolves howl, but they don’t bark, right?
“Is it yours?”
“This is the Spirit of the Snowy Night, known as Quinn. Usually, I keep my distance so as not to be noticed by humans.”
You’re the owner, huh!!!
Still, why didn’t either of them mention it right away?
“…Could it be that Ash doesn’t know about this Spirit?”
“Yes.”
The reason Ash had been silent was likely to hide the Butler’s abilities if he knew about Quinn’s existence. If he didn’t know, then it was to keep my abilities regarding Spirits hidden from the Butler. —Considering the Butler spoke up when Ash wasn’t around, it seemed to be the latter.
What is this master-servant dynamic?
I couldn’t help but stare at the Butler’s face. Pauldir Note, the former Butler of Ash’s Adelheid household. He had a cool, pale face, gray hair, and amber eyes.
“Pauldir is from a branch of the Adelheid family; a branch is not permitted to surpass the main family. Ash believes my ability is merely to see Spirits,” he said, bowing his head as I looked at him.
Ah, his coloring is very similar to Ash’s. Did he say that because he thought I would notice, or did he just want to get it out there first?
“I’m not interested in prying. Next time you bring another one, let it in through the front door first.”
As I untied the string on the pickled vegetable container and opened the lid, the Spirit burst out and fled.
It seemed the pickling process had worked well. I’m glad it didn’t splatter everywhere.
“There’s quite a unique smell here; is it some kind of salted food?”
The Butler looked at me with a very puzzled expression.
“Yeah, something like that. I haven’t added the main ingredients yet, though.”
I planned to pickle some turnips later.
“Lord Jean’s house is wonderfully comfortable.”
“There’s still some work I want to do, but I’ll take my time with it when I have the chance.”
The Butler washed the dishes while I dried them and put them away.
The kitchen, bath, and the underground storage room had been coated with extra plaster to prevent mold, giving them a bright impression. Scraping away the old plaster between the stones to repair the walls was a memorable experience, though I never want to do it again.
The beams supporting the upper floor were also thin and untrustworthy, so I made them thicker, and the interior had truly transformed.
Ash and the Butler, who had been playing with Az, left.
The remnants of the fig tart were taken by the Butler, who said he would distribute them to the poorest among those living outside the city walls tomorrow morning—people who couldn’t afford to live inside.
I could let the mess on the table slide, but giving away the bits scattered on the floor bothered my Japanese sensibilities. However, in this world, food is precious, and eating something that fell on the floor is considered normal hygiene—no, food is indeed valuable here.
In reality, there are people in this town who struggle to eat. Sweets are expensive, and when I was told, “If you turn it into pig feed, you’ll be resented,” I reconsidered and at least shaped the leftovers into cookie-sized pieces, drizzled them with caramel, and lightly baked them again.
After the two left, I extinguished the fire on the first floor and checked on the third floor.
Candles that last about three hours cost three copper coins or one-fourth of a silver coin. That’s about the price of a day’s worth of bread for an adult, so using them daily is extravagant. That’s why in ordinary households, they rely only on the light from the fireplace at night.
The second floor has wooden flooring, but the third floor is tiled, and I made the hearth wider. It’s designed to be left burning until the firewood runs out, assuming no one is around, to prevent fires. It would be strange if smoke wasn’t rising from the chimney for a while.
In coastal countries, small dishes filled with oil and a rush wick are used for light. Cheap oil comes from fish like sardines, which smells bad and produces smoke. Next is whale oil, which is slightly better but still has a smell. It seems there’s no plant oil? The cats would lick the oil from the lamps! —Though I don’t have any lamps.
Due to the long days, people generally work while it’s still light and go to bed early to save on expenses. I should quickly use [Teleportation] to get home and sleep.
That master-servant duo should feel free to let loose now that they’re outside the Duke’s Household. The Butler has figured out that I can interact with Spirits, but it feels mutual. If it becomes too troublesome, I might have to abandon this nicely renovated rented house, but I think it’ll be fine.
They probably wouldn’t want to attract unwanted attention from the country either. Thanks to the Gods, as long as I don’t have any prior connections, they can’t maintain interest in me.
And yet, my status as a Free Knight and my territory are recognized, which is convenient. If I wanted to make a name for myself and become famous, it might be the worst-case scenario, though.
Comfortable, comfortable.