Chapter 5

"What? That can't be it?"

"Just listen. Master Ether hasn't had any education either, right?"

"Well, that's true…"

"So apparently the two of them are going to learn the imperial language together from Lady Rotte."

"Huh? What did I just hear?"

"My lady and Master Ether are learning the imperial language together? And from Lady Rotte?"

"That's what I'm saying!"

They couldn't help but picture it.

Iberin sitting beside Ether, working through a children's primer on the imperial language together.

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen."

"So it's not real after all?"

"Hey. Quit yakking and get back to work. Work."

The servants had frozen as if on cue, then shuddered and dismissed the rumor.

"Still, Lady Rotte's been looking happier lately, hasn't she?"

"She has, but…"

The servants tilted their heads with uncertain expressions.

Their distrust of Iberin still outweighed everything else.

---

But it really was happening.

Iberin had asked Rotte to teach her quite a while back, but getting the relevant books shipped all the way out to the Lecashe Grand Ducal Estate took so long that they'd had to put it off.

Until then, paperwork went like this: Rotte read the documents aloud, and Iberin signed them.

There weren't even that many people on the estate, but the documents piled up like nobody's business—and when she found out what they all were, they turned out to be complaint letters. Every single one.

"Damn it."

"My lady. That kind of language isn't proper."

The more time they spent together, the more comfortable she got with Rotte too.

The stiff "my lady" Rotte had insisted on had softened to "Lady Iberin."

"So, monsters showed up in Count Alketa's territory?"

"Yes."

"And His Highness Grand Duke Lecashe is expected to cover the cleanup costs and damages?"

"That's correct."

"Tell him to drop dead."

"Lady Iberin."

"In the time it takes to write a complaint letter, they could've put their own knights together and dealt with it themselves."

There wasn't a single noble who didn't know how dangerous the corrupted Forest of the World Tree was.

Any noble with territory near it kept multiple trained knight orders on hand.

A monster or two escaping into their land couldn't possibly do enough damage to matter.

The nobles knew that perfectly well, and they sent the complaint letters anyway. To squeeze damages out of the Grand Duke Lecashe for failing to manage the forest properly.

Iberin felt a slow burn rising in her chest.

The castle was disgustingly huge, but its coffers were empty.

They'd handed over money to anyone who asked, so of course there was nothing left.

It was only because the Grand Duke Lecashe hunted monsters and sent their hides and blood to the capital for sale that they could even keep the household running.

"Are we actually getting fleeced here?"

"Pardon?"

"I mean, what would the Grand Duke Lecashe know about market prices, or what monster parts go for? He's been holed up in this territory his whole life."

"There's no chance of that. The butler at the capital estate handles all of it. His name's Pons."

"Ah, the son of the butler who recently passed."

"Yes, that's right. The Loyetti family has served as the Lecashe Grand Duke's butlers for generations. They wouldn't play games with the money."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I spent a long time in the capital before coming here. I know what things are worth."

"Ahh."

Iberin accepted it right away.

A family that had served as butlers for generations would have loyalty unlike anyone else.

Then she paused mid-thought.

"Wait, then who's managing the capital estate?"

"Once Butler Pons comes down here, his son will take over the capital estate."

A family line that handed it down through generations, so they had it all planned out…

"Anyway, what about the complaint letter from the count's territory?"

"Tear it up."

"And the reply?"

"Refuse it."

"Yes."

Most of the servants at the Lecashe Grand Ducal Estate were deeply loyal.

Rotte was one of them.

She'd never liked the high-handed bullying from the surrounding nobles either, but since she couldn't disobey the Grand Duke's orders, she'd gone along with it reluctantly.

Riiip. Riiiip.

The satisfying way she tore through the paper said a lot about how much she'd had to swallow over the years.

Iberin burst out laughing and clapped for her.

Before long, the office floor was buried under a heap of torn paper.

That was when Iberin shot up from her chair.

"It's time for lunch with Ether."

"I'll go get things ready."

"Yes, I need to hurry over and see my little Ether."

Iberin practically hummed her way out of the office. Working with Rotte in the office had its own kind of fun, but nothing beat seeing Ether's adorable little face.

While she'd been doing paperwork with Rotte, she'd had the servants play with Ether.

She practically skipped toward where he was. Ether seemed to have been waiting for her too—the moment the door opened, he ran out and threw himself into her arms.

"My laaady!"

"Ether, what were you playing?"

"Mm, puzzles with Tami and Roz."

"Was it fun?"

"Yef."

He still hadn't called her Mom, but he'd brightened up so much in just a few days.

---

At first, worried his stomach couldn't handle real food, she'd kept his meals as simple and thin as possible.

When he should've been eating his fill, no less.

But whatever Ether ate, he marveled at the taste and stared at it in wonder.

Well—he had said brown servant bread was the most delicious thing in the world, so that said it all.

In any case, he was at exactly the age when he needed proper nutrition, and the fact that he hadn't been getting it had been weighing on her, but the doctor said he could start on regular food today.

"Are you excited, Ether?"

"Yef."

Ether held her hand and walked along with sturdy little steps.

It was a shame this world didn't seem to have shoes that squeaked when kids walked in them.

"You've arrived."

"Yes, all set?"

"Everything's ready."

Rotte, who'd left them earlier, was waiting in front of the dining hall.

The moment they stepped inside, the rich smell of cooking oil hit them.

Up until now, meals had been taken in the bedroom rather than the dining hall.

She'd been eating so little anyway.

So this was actually Iberin's first time stepping into the dining hall too, and it was ridiculously large.

"Whooa…"

Ether's mouth fell open in awe. Iberin's reaction wasn't all that different.

A long table stretched out into the distance, and reaching the head of it took a fair bit of walking.

Rotte, following behind, guided her to her seat. Iberin tilted her head, wondering if this kind of treatment was just normal for noble households.

Coming from a democratic society into a class-based one had been a tough adjustment to begin with, and this moment felt like the peak of it.

On top of that, once she sat down, the table was so enormous that Ether ended up sitting way too far from her.

"Uh, um…"

Ether, who'd been walking so confidently, didn't know what to do once he was that far from Iberin.

But he didn't fuss—just sat there obediently.

"The main course is veal tenderloin steak. The sides are braised dried eggplant and salad with cheese drizzle."

"Mm. You must've worked hard preparing it."

"I hope you enjoy the meal."

The chef gave a quick rundown of the dishes, bowed, and stepped aside.

Iberin felt a little hemmed in. The way the other servants stood through it was so practiced that the original Iberin must've taken her meals exactly like this.

Either way, the smell of the food made her hungry, so she picked up her knife.

She didn't know noble etiquette, so she just cut into the steak however she liked and took a bite. It was definitely good.

"How is it?"

The chef asked nervously.

"It's delicious."

Iberin gave her honest impression.

Even to Iberin's undiscerning palate, it was the best thing she'd ever tasted in this life or her last.

The chef's face lit up and he thanked her.

But all this time, Ether had been sitting frozen, his hands not moving at all.

It was only when his eyes met Iberin's that he flinched and reached for his fork. Then he made a little sawing motion with it, pretending to cut the steak.

That was when it hit Iberin: Ether had never been taught how to eat a meal.

"Rotte."

"Yes."

"Can you move Ether's seat next to mine?"

His plate and silverware were all relocated next to her.

Once he was tucked right up against her side again, Ether let out a relieved hehe of a giggle.

"Mommy will cut it for you."

"Yef."

Ether nodded eagerly. She sliced off a piece and put it in his mouth, and he chewed away happily.

"How is it?"

"Yummy!"

"Eat lots."

"Yes. Thank you."

After she'd cut up all the meat and put the fork in his hand, he started spearing pieces himself, eating the salad too.

---

After the meal, she played with Ether for a while, put him down for a nap, and went looking for Rotte.

"Rotte."

"Yes."

"How do we find an etiquette tutor?"

Who would actually want to be an etiquette tutor for the Lecashe Grand Duke's house?

"When the butler was still alive, he said that if we made a request to the Emperor of the Aleta Holy Empire, His Majesty would arrange a tutor."

"Huh? Really?"

"Yes. Should I send word?"

"What about academic tutors?"

It was funny how the mind worked.

A moment ago she'd been worried about how to find even one tutor, and now that she heard the empire would provide one, she immediately wondered if she could squeeze more out of them.

"They'll arrange those too."

"Wow, the empire really comes through."

When Iberin said it admiringly, Rotte corrected her.

"It's not generosity—it's because they owe Lecashe a debt."

"A debt?"

"Yes."

Now that she thought about it, that made sense.

The empire had been living the good life for thousands of years by dumping everything on the Lecashe family.

Bastards.

The more she thought about it, the worse the deal looked.

"Can we get more than just tutors out of them?"

"…Pardon? What exactly do you mean to extort from the royal family?"

"Everything they've got."

"L-Lady Iberin."

Rotte stammered, looking thoroughly thrown.

"Do they not send anything else?"

"They bestow considerable wealth every year."

"What? Then why are the finances—"

Iberin cut herself off and ground her teeth. She had a pretty good guess why.

Greedy noble parasites. Sure, there wasn't much to spend money on out here, but being robbed blind was a whole different thing from just not spending it.

She was surrounded by highway robbers. And the biggest of them all was the imperial family—that said it all.

A bitter, burning feeling rose up out of nowhere.

How much have they bled us for, all this time?

Not one more coin was leaving this estate. Every bit of it was going to be passed down to Ether, intact.