12

"Ah, Luna!"

While I was waiting for a moment in the hallway, the young lady came running toward me.

I hesitated briefly.

Should I tell her that a noble lady shouldn't run in the hallway?

It felt like saying that would make me seem more like a professional maid.

But in the end, I decided not to say it.

It might take some time to win Ayla's favor, so for now, I can't afford to give up on the young lady's trust.

Their relationship is delicate.

The young lady doesn't fully trust Ayla.

But at the same time, she can't express herself beyond the level of a child's tantrum.

Having lost her mother early and not receiving much love from her father, the young lady likely didn't receive much affection from the other servants either.

Not to the extent of being completely neglected,

but there were likely only strictly professional relationships around her.

Maybe, if you looked closely, there might have been a nanny she was somewhat close to.

"Madam is…"

"Changing her clothes."

Instead of scolding the young lady for running,

I reached out and brushed off a bit of dust on her shoulder with my fingertips.

"Tch."

The young lady pouted her lips.

"All the servants have left anyway. Would it hurt to hire some new people…?"

"…

Was Ayla too extreme?

Well, if she drove them out to make room for new people, it wouldn't exactly be excessive.

It's a common enough occurrence in households.

The problem is, Ayla doesn't have any 'power.'

Even if she turns to the barony for help, the baron would likely try to swallow this estate whole.

In fact, he might already be gathering people without informing anyone.

Of course, given the barony's limited resources, there's a limit to how many people he could gather.

The servants who work in this count's manor can't just be anyone.

They need to be highly skilled and also trustworthy on a personal level.

As Ayla herself said, a cook, barber, or tailor could harm their master if they wished.

The young lady is still too young to understand this fully.

Though she's received some education,

it likely wasn't the kind that taught her not to trust servants blindly.

Just as the baron saw Ayla as a chess piece, the count likely saw the young lady in the same way.

And because of the young lady, Ayla couldn't leave this place.

Even when given the perfect chance, she spent a month agonizing over it.

"Young Lady Countess."

"Yes?"

"Have you received any specific lessons from Lady Ayla during the past month?"

"Oh, right, yes!"

At my question, the young lady became indignant.

She immediately raised her eyebrows sharply and spoke with a deeply upset expression.

"After Father passed away, she treated me so horribly! She made me eat something like thickened vomit!"

Porridge.

Of course, porridge varies greatly in taste depending on how it's made.

The porridge the young lady had before was likely prepared to be as delicious as possible.

It wasn't hard to guess why Ayla fed her that kind of porridge.

"She called me to the garden, handed me a stick, and told me to hit her!"

Even a child must know how to protect their body if they plan to flee for an extended time.

Of course, the young lady is too young to be of any use in such plans.

Ayla likely intended for her to learn just enough to hold a small dagger and not hesitate to wield it in extreme situations.

"She dragged me out and made me walk around the estate for hours! Even when I said I was thirsty, she didn't give me water! And my shoes were so uncomfortable that the backs of my heels were completely rubbed raw!"

Summing it up, Ayla genuinely tried to take the young lady and run away.

But the young lady must have fiercely resisted.

To her, this estate is her entire world.

It's filled with people who help her, the food is delicious, the water is clean, and the clothes are pristine and beautiful.

From her perspective, Ayla must have seemed like an evil stepmother, torturing her as soon as her father passed away.

And Ayla likely realized with a heavy heart that taking the young lady with her would be difficult.

But leaving her alone was equally worrisome.

Though Ayla was half-neglected as an illegitimate daughter, she still had her own experience with aristocratic life.

"Um, Luna?"

"Yes, Young Lady?"

I was lost in thought with my hand over my chest when the young lady called me.

Quickly composing myself, I turned to her.

She spoke, her eyes glistening with tears.

"Luna, you do understand me, don't you?"

"…

Hmm.

I do understand.

But it's Ayla I empathize with.

If I were Ayla, I wouldn't have hesitated.

I would have carried the young lady on my shoulder and run.

And then I would have taken refuge with the marquis.

The marquis would have clutched his neck in frustration, and his younger brother would have covered his forehead.

As for the marquioness, she'd have exclaimed,

"Finally, a daughter!"

Recalling the story the younger brother told me, I quickly stopped thinking about it to avoid a headache and turned my attention back to the young lady.

"Luna, you wouldn't do anything like that, right?

You said you owed Father a debt, so you promised to stay and repay it…

Let me give you some advice.

The madam is definitely planning to take over this manor, just like a stepmother in a fairy tale!"

"…

I listened with a serious expression.

I couldn't nod in agreement, but I also couldn't betray Ayla.

"Young Lady."

"Yes?"

When I opened my mouth with a solemn face, the young lady nodded seriously with a hopeful look.

"A fine apple arrived. Would you like to try it?"

"Huh?"

Caught off guard by my abrupt question, the young lady blinked in confusion.

"It's delicious! This is so good!"

Growing things at home has its limits.

Most of the vegetables Ayla procured were bland or lacking in sweetness.

The closest thing to fruit was tomatoes, and carrots were the only sweet vegetable.

I don't know exactly what Ayla was thinking.

Maybe she intended to gradually acclimate the young lady to a life of fleeing.

After all, by sending away all the servants to make escape easier, she couldn't leave the young lady behind either.

But keeping the servants and running wouldn't have been ideal either.

I didn't know what kind of people those servants were.

Ayla likely didn't trust them, and she must have judged that leaving the young lady alone with them was dangerous.

"Where did this come from? Luna, can you use magic?"

"I do know magic, but I can't conjure apples. Accelerating a tree's growth is high magic."

The witch who claimed to be my mentor once said so.

My innate magical power is about as ordinary as it gets.

However, they told me my cunning is exceptional, so I should use my brain diligently.

In the end, I honed most of my skills through swordsmanship and used magic as a supplementary tool. While I mainly favor magic that reduces my presence, I sometimes use wind to limit visibility.

If someone were to ask, "Does it help in daily life?" I'm not sure. Magic of that kind is strangely complex and not easy to use in the first place.

"There's a decent merchant family expected to stay nearby for the time being. During that time, we might be able to obtain some of these fruits."

"That sounds great!"

Ayla's eyes sparkled as she spoke.

"Do you think they might have strawberries, oranges, or grapes?"

Talking about fruits that are all in season at different times at once…

Well, if it were the witch, she'd probably pull them out effortlessly.

Hearing footsteps, I looked up.

Descending the stairs leading to the upper hallway was Ayla. She was wearing a blue dress—a slightly daring one with exposed shoulders.

I hadn't chosen it myself, but most of Ayla's clothes in the count's household were of that sort. Clothes that clearly showed why the count had insisted on making her his wife.

Although the count never actually got to see Ayla wearing those clothes himself. That much, at least, was fortunate.

Following my gaze, the young lady turned her eyes and, upon seeing Ayla, clamped her mouth shut. Then she quickly started munching on the apple with great focus.

"You don't have to eat so hurriedly."

Ayla said this, but it didn't seem to persuade the young lady.

I looked at Ayla.

Ayla avoided my gaze. Did she hear me talking with the young lady in the hallway earlier?

Perhaps the teachings Ayla received in her youth had become her poison. The training hall treated actual combat as its lessons. Sure, they used wooden swords, but getting hit hurt like hell.

Knock knock.

The silence was momentarily interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the main door.

The three of us exchanged glances.

I gave the two of them a small bow and moved silently toward the main door.

The person beyond the door was—

"I-I'm sorry."

It was an elderly gentleman with white hair, holding his hat in his hands.

"I heard my daughter was rude to the countess yesterday."

I turned to look at the witch.

Wait, she asked for an apprentice to be brought…

But the apprentice is way too old!

Oh, right. This guy was an elf.

To an elf, all humans look young. They probably just picked "someone who looked somewhat older."

They likely didn't even adjust their expectations for human appearances.

I gave the apprentice a pitying look.

The apprentice let out a small sigh.