Chapter 46

* * *

“Meow.”

I woke slowly to the warmth of a small creature burrowing against me.

Dawn was breaking across the wide window. The sky was still dim, as winter nights in the north were long.

I sighed and looked down at my chest.

Amber eyes glittered in the dark.

“Nero, already being spoiled this early?”

“Meow, mew mew, meow—”

Nero slid between my arms and rubbed his forehead all over me.

He’d always been affectionate, but since I’d been away more often inspecting Barg Mountain and nearby lands, he’d gotten even clingier.

And whenever our eyes met, he’d blink at me slowly.

“Ah, you’re so dangerous for the heart.”

“Meow?”

“My cutest baby in the whole world.”

I hugged the little one who’d been nuzzling my chin and smothered him with kisses.

What else could be heaven but this, rolling around in a warm bed with my cat.

After lounging in bed for a while, I finally pulled the cord to summon servants once the sun had fully risen.

I expected Berry as always, but to my surprise someone else had come as well.

“Madam, did you rest through the night?”

“Berthold.”

“Meow.”

Nero wagged his tail as I greeted them.

Berry’s breath hitched at the sight of that cute, loving scene, but Berthold and I both pretended not to notice and continued.

“You’re supposed to be at the duke’s side, yet here you are this morning. What’s the reason?”

“Would you join me for breakfast this morning with the mistress?”

“Breakfast with Your Grace?”

I couldn’t hide how reluctant I felt.

Normally I’d have refused without another word, but whatever had happened at Barg Mountain yesterday made me hesitate.

Curiosity can cause trouble, and I wondered why the duke had acted the way he did.

Sensing that, Berthold pressed the invitation gently.

“An important guest from the Holy City will be arriving soon, won’t they? It might be good to discuss the reception over breakfast.”

“That makes sense.”

Berthold was right.

Putting aside my reluctance about the inquisitor, I couldn’t be careless about diplomatic matters. I needed to know exactly why they were coming.

I also wanted to ask Brother Vincent about the status of his search.

“Very well, I will have breakfast with Your Grace. I’ll come down soon.”

“Understood, madam.”

The elderly steward looked relieved.

* * *

Edwin’s daily life was always steady.

He rose before dawn, did his morning training, washed, and went to his study.

Then the steward would present the morning meal prepared in advance for his master.

He didn’t particularly enjoy food, so he usually had rye bread with salted ham and cheese and a cup of warm herbal tea.

“What are you up to, Berthold?”

But today was different.

There was nothing on the study table.

When the steward met his master’s gaze, he spoke plainly.

“Would you have breakfast in the dining room today?”

“Berthold.”

“The wind is bitter. If you don’t want the mistress waiting, you should hurry.”

A fierce blizzard raged outside.

Still, the castle interior stayed comfortably warm no matter the weather.

It was a wealthy domain. Since Elicia had married in, the duke had ordered that the spaces she frequented be especially well tended.

Expensive incense and aromatic resins were burned so the rooms she used smelled pleasant.

Edwin knew that, but he was already hurrying out of his study.

At just that moment Administrator Ramon entered and chuckled darkly.

“Ah, youth.”

“If the master heard that, he’d strike you with lightning.”

“Are you telling that to the one who nudged the master?”

“Ahem, I don’t know what you mean.”

Ramon was a noble but cheerful and easygoing, and he got along well with the people outside the inner walls.

Curious about the Barg Mountain inspection, he had run straight to the miners’ guild yesterday to find Bolic.

What he heard surprised him.

‘Madam, you hit it right on the mark. Barg Mountain likely has a good vein. Count Alnor got the short end of the stick.’

‘Really, are they starting work immediately? We won’t see you around much then.’

‘Well, here’s the thing…’

Bolic had confided something to Ramon and made him promise not to tell. It was startling.

They’d been ordered not to start work until spring because the mountain was frozen and dangerous. Pay would be generous, and because work couldn’t start in winter, part of the wages would be advanced.

Bolic emphasized secrecy, but loose-tongued Ramon told everything to Berthold.

“Madam is the real thing, Sir Berthold. She really is.”

“…You’re right.”

Now there was no denying it.

Elicia had more than enough talent and qualification to be the mistress of Lombard, a role that had long been vacant.

I’d suspected that before, but now both men were convinced.

They resolved that by any means they must bind her heart to northern Lombard. If the duchess who came from the distant capital came to love this place as her home, Lombard could flourish like a great southern granary.

A prosperous and glorious Lombard future seemed suddenly imaginable.

Ramon sighed.

“But first her husband has to do well. His Grace is rather…”

“Not necessarily so bad.”

Berthold, as a close attendant, had an inkling.

The duchess was very beautiful, and the usually indifferent master had shown he’d punish anyone who harmed her without mercy. It wasn’t hard to guess his feelings.

Ramon clicked his tongue as if to say what’s the point.

“If he has feelings, he sure doesn’t show them at all.”

“Listen, Ramon.”

“Love isn’t assassination. You have to be seen or it can’t start, right?”

When the duchess walked past the two of them she was stiff as an old log, so Ramon figured, their odds were slim. It wasn’t wrong, and Berthold coughed awkwardly.

“Then we’ll try harder.”

“Try? Sir Berthold, you’ve forgotten one important fact.”

“What is it?”

“We’re both lifelong bachelors with less romantic experience than an ant’s foot.”

That was true.

Berthold had served the Lombard house his whole life and missed the chance to marry. Ramon was sociable but froze up in front of someone he liked, then blathered nonsense and got rejected.

Berthold realized this belatedly and sighed.

“Ah.”

* * *

A heavy silence hung in the room, broken only by clinking dishes.

I paused with my fork and looked down at my plate.

Today too the meal was a simple home-cooked menu I liked. Plain, neat, and clearly made with care.

The duke ate calmly.

He must have noticed my pause, because he glanced at me.

“Is it not to your taste?”

“No, it’s not that…”

The duke I remembered preferred high calorie protein dishes because of his harsh training. Even if he was lazy about food sometimes, at formal dinners he’d make an effort to eat high energy meals.

The servants knew that too.

‘No way—’

The thought flitted through my head that someone might call him a lumberjack for thinking such things. My face flushed with shame.

“Madam?”

“No, it’s just… it’s a bit warm.”

I turned my head to the blazing stove to avoid his gaze.

Being born in Lombard meant the bone-deep cold was part of life.

In my childhood Edwin sometimes brought firewood and ointments, but after I became a bureaucrat I refused those gifts so they wouldn’t be seen as factional favor.

Still, I couldn’t buy coal with my meager salary, so during hard freezes I had to tough it out.

Now, as Elicia, everywhere was warm and full of pleasant heat.

‘Ah, being the duchess is such luxury.’

Just then another pitiable image entered my mind.

A poor brother who’d only ever known a scripture and a pen.