Chapter 58

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 58

Chapter Title: First Gift

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"The day after tomorrow."

Clodel came to an abrupt halt right there.

"...What did you say?"

"The day after tomorrow."

His response left her flustered.

Watching her reaction, the butler actually tilted his head in confusion.

"Has the Lord not yet mentioned the banquet to you, Madam?"

"Not at all! This is the first I've heard of it."

As Clodel's voice rose in earnest frustration, the butler hurried to smooth over his master's oversight.

"The Lord is a reasonable man by nature. Ever since returning from the war five years ago, whenever his birthday came around, he would pay his respects to the late Lord and Lady, then spend the day resting in the annex in the garden."

"I see. But with so many people wanting to celebrate the head of House Temneth's birthday, I imagine."

The butler spoke with evident pride.

"Of course. Though any celebratory gifts that arrived were set aside separately and used to support the serfs' independence."

"The serfs' independence?"

"Yes. The Lord takes special care with such matters, so there are hardly any serfs left in Temneth these days."

A lord ruling a vast territory might seem to oversee nobles or vassals of noble blood, with ordinary commoners as the residents below them. But in truth, there was a layer even lower than that.

Serfs were bound to the land.

Unlike commoners, who could freely engage in commerce, services, crafts, or even hold public offices managing the territory's operations, serfs were born to the soil, lived their lives tethered to it, and were buried in it.

They were the hands and feet that made the vast lands productive.

Less like fellow humans and more like the dirt scattered across the fields or the blades of grass—existing as part of the harvest, unchanging even if the land's owner changed.

Even in Valmond, Clodel had thrown herself into charity work outside the castle. It was her only chance to leave the grounds, and having been raised as a commoner, she found the straightforward residents more comfortable than the castle folk.

But after her own status had overnight shifted from commoner to noble, creating an unbridgeable line even with her family-like friend Hanna, Clodel had grown keenly aware of the divides between classes.

What pained her most was that a child born to serfs was doomed to the same fate as their parents.

Rooted to the land, like potatoes or wheat producing the same seed in turn.

Yet hearing that Kaiyan had taken it upon himself to address such issues brought a ray of light into the dim corridor, as if sunshine had pierced through somewhere.

"Aside from the Pargos region near the capital, most have been granted commoner status."

"I see. That's truly commendable."

"He is an extraordinary man. Far greater than any who have ruled Rowen Castle for centuries. He accomplishes with ease what they could not in lifetimes."

From the butler's words, Clodel could sense his deep pride in serving such a master.

It had only been a few months since she'd come to know Kaiyan, but she agreed with the sentiment.

He was a man who could even save someone like her, who had been handed a death sentence.

"The decision for the banquet was made just this morning."

"Why decide on a banquet so suddenly?"

"Until now, with the late Lord and Lady gone, there was no one to celebrate with, I suppose. But now you are here, Madam. And with the autumn festival so close, it likely slipped his mind."

As she listened to the butler, Clodel realized they'd reached her room.

"Don't worry about the preparations."

"All right."

But even after Clodel stepped inside, the butler lingered by the door, hesitating as if debating whether to say more.

"Is there something else?"

"If preparing a gift for the Lord requires funds, please issue a note of exchange."

"Ah..."

"We couldn't inform you earlier due to your illness, but there are funds at your disposal as well. The Lord entrusted them to me separately, in case you might need them while he was occupied."

"I'll think about it."

"Yes, Madam."

Seeming pleased at the prospect of her putting thought into a gift for his master, the butler smiled warmly.

"Don't overthink it. The Lord isn't overly particular."

He closed the door, and Clodel sank onto the sofa.

"Whew."

She let out a deep sigh as she settled into the soft cushions, closed her eyes, then suddenly stomped her foot in frustration.

"Not particular, my foot!"

Kaiyan's tastes were exacting in every way.

The butler's assessment was utterly subjective, devoid of objectivity.

Having spent more time in Rowen Castle than Kaiyan himself, the butler's very standards were perfection incarnate.

She could understand calling Kaiyan "reasonable."

Unlike Duke Vermonte, he wasn't one to stake his life on empty formalities.

Surprisingly free-spirited in his actions, yet his innate elegance made it seem refreshing and unhesitating rather than unseemly.

"But everything he owns is top-notch."

Every item Kaiyan used or wore exuded refinement. Taken together, they revealed just how discerning he was, how high his standards ran.

"Haa. What should I give him?"

Clodel's chest tightened.

"Learning about my husband's birthday just two days before."

Sleep through the night, and it'd be only one day away.

"If we hadn't married by royal decree like this, I'd at least have known his birthday."

Even noble marriages typically involved a year of courtship.

Sighing to herself, Clodel suddenly burst into incredulous laughter.

"What am I saying? Without the king's order, a Temneth like him and I never would have married in the first place."

Her circling thoughts sometimes led to a moment of clarity.

"Birthday gift..."

She wanted to give him something because she cared for him.

Their relationship still had much to uncover, but giving him something now would make it a memory for next year, the year after.

"What would he like?"

Something that would leave lasting joy.

Clodel glanced down at her hand.

On the ring finger of her left hand still sat the button ornament Kaiyan had given her on their second night, worn like a ring.

At first Hanna had fussed about it; after Hanna pledged her soul to House Temneth as a loyal servant, Kaiyan had demanded she remove and discard it.

But Clodel didn't want to.

"It's the first thing I ever got from Kaiyan."

Gazing at the slender white finger adorned with the crescent-moon gold, the humiliations she'd endured to obtain it held no sting for her heart.

Back then, neither Kaiyan nor Clodel had known each other.

With the enmity of their predecessors hanging over them, their minds had been blank on how to proceed, how to treat one another.

Clodel believed Kaiyan was trying.

It bothered her that even as his wife, he kept trying to compensate her materially, but anyone else would call it ungrateful whining.

Perhaps it was simply his way of reaching out to her.

"I want to give him something nice too."

It was no easy dilemma.

Knock knock.

At the sound of knocking, Clodel dragged herself to the door with a sullen expression and opened it.

"Why the long face? You haven't even changed clothes yet."

Kaiyan was dressed comfortably, as if just stopping by to rest.

"I just heard about the banquet."

"What's the big deal?"

His casual dismissal irked her.

"Is this how I find out about your birthday?"

"Was that the issue?"

"I need time to prepare."

"The butler's handling it. No need to worry."

Unwilling to broach the gift topic here, Clodel clamped her mouth shut. Mistaking her reaction for anxiety over the sudden banquet, Kaiyan pulled her into his arms to soothe her.

"You missed the wedding banquet on the third day."

Kaiyan had once thought Clodel, hurt over the button ornament, had deliberately skipped it to embarrass him.

'What? She won't attend?'

'Yes, Your Grace. She says she's too ill to join.'

'Tell her she'll never be summoned to another banquet.'

He'd said it in a fit of anger, but the wise butler clearly hadn't relayed those words to her.

Now he knew how truly ill she'd been then.

A great relief.

"We danced at the festival and returned to the castle, so you should make a proper appearance."

"You dragged me there."

"And you loved it."

Clodel glared at the shameless man, but tension melted from her eyes. Looking at her husband's face often defused her anger just like that.

"Don't be so tense. Your reputation's been good since the festival."

"What are they saying?"

"No one's whispering about you being a Vermonte anymore."

"That's a relief."

He pressed his lips to her forehead.

"It's just one dinner. No need to feel burdened."

"Okay."

"You should get ready. Want me to help you change?"

One of Kaiyan's latest obsessions was playing dress-up with Clodel like a doll.

The next day, Clodel headed to the garden for the first time in ages.

Busy with the festival, then meeting Rohan, and now suddenly a banquet.

One thing after another demanding her attention.

"A lady's life is supposed to be busy."

Even her aunt by marriage, the Duchess of Vermonte, was perpetually swamped—so much so that sometimes Clodel couldn't even catch her at meals.

"Rowen's even larger than Valmond. I knew being a proper lady here would be hectic."

But she hadn't expected her husband's announcements to be so abrupt and uncooperative.

Floating on her back in the water, Clodel sighed and closed her eyes.

"Maybe show him my swimming as a gift?"

She still hadn't told Kaiyan she could swim now.

She hadn't forgotten how he'd offered to help her float, then pulled his hands away as a prank, letting her sink.

So someday, once she was proficient, she planned to pretend to drown and prank him back.

She was curious what his face would look like seeing her swim skillfully.

Remembering how gracefully he'd swum at first—like a mermaid, elegant and free like a large fish—she wondered if he'd find her swimming just as beautiful.

"A gift. The gift's the problem."

She'd visited the marketplace that morning, but it was for ordinary residents' shopping—no way to match Kaiyan's caliber there.

Everything he owned, even a pen, was custom-made.

As Clodel kicked through the water, her eyes widened.

Swimming down to the lake bottom, she stretched her hand as far as it would go and grasped something from the depths.

"Pha!"

Emerging, she opened her palm to reveal a small red stone the size of a thumb joint.

"...Pretty."

Strangely, the smooth stone, as if carved by hand, was shaped like a heart.

"Should I just give him this?"

Yet thirty minutes later, Madam Marcel and Hanna cried out in unison.

"Absolutely not!"