Chapter 21

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: There Is No Mercy Chapter 21

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"...Huh?"

While I mumbled dazedly, a response came from right beside me.

When I opened my eyes, there was Rita staring at me with round squirrel-like eyes.

Rita, who had just set down a cup of warm black tea, cautiously pulled her hand back.

"Um... If the black tea isn't to your liking, should I prepare something else?"

I shook my head at Rita, who had misunderstood my words and said something completely off-base.

I pulled my body out from where it had sunk into the chair and reached for the teacup, lifting it up.

Rita gave a faint smile and headed toward the pantry.

I quietly watched her retreating back, then rolled my eyes.

I set down the teacup I had been bringing to my lips and reached down to open the bottom drawer of the desk.

I pulled out a red binder and flipped it open.

I rustled through the documents inside, confirmed the information I wanted, and closed it.

I gazed out the window.

The rain was still a long way from letting up.

"...Might as well wrap this up now."

I pushed aside the white teacup with steam rising from it and rose from my seat.

Something that needed handling came to mind.

"Are you saying you want to hire new staff?"

Head Butler Daytum raised his wrinkled eyelids.

His gaunt face showed more bewilderment than surprise.

"Yes. I've been hearing all sorts of things lately, so I've been thinking it's time for some fresh blood."

"But at a time like this, so suddenly..."

"It's not sudden at all. Mother has a good eye for people, so there haven't been issues until now, but as you know, still water turns foul. Problems are cropping up everywhere, so it feels like the right time to drain the pond."

Daytum pushed up his monocle slightly and let out a low groan.

His mouth, framed by a neat beard, twitched as if about to speak, but no words came.

And rightly so—it was plain common sense.

"I understand what you're saying. But it's still too abrupt. Most of the servants are out aiding disaster relief for the territory's residents or on leave, leaving positions empty. Moreover, the countess remains the overall head of household affairs internally. It would be better to proceed once she returns..."

"My parents have delegated full authority to me. This is just internal staffing—surely I can handle that as I see fit. Besides, if we wait until all the servants are back, it'll just cause chaos. So please follow my lead."

I took a firm stance with Daytum, who was trying to persuade me otherwise.

This was one of the things I'd been itching to tackle ever since I returned.

Bellieta had eyes everywhere, monitoring me through people she had in her pocket.

Some were plants she placed directly, and others, like Rita, had flipped to her side even if they hadn't started that way.

I couldn't tolerate those people hovering around me any longer.

Daytum closed his eyes and pondered for a long moment before opening them again.

He nodded calmly.

"Very well. I'll prepare the internal administration."

"I'll send the list of names I've decided on in writing, so please review it."

Daytum nodded again, offered a light bow, and withdrew.

The moment he left the room, I stood and headed straight for the records office to find the scribe.

I opened the door and stepped in. There sat a gaunt man with dull eyes, scribbling away with a pen dipped in an inkwell.

"Lucky bastard."

"Who the hell does he think he— Miss Sierra?!"

His slouched body and even more crooked neck snapped upright the instant he spotted me.

In the process, he dropped the inkwell he was holding, spilling ink all over Vincent's pants.

"Argh!"

With a bizarre shriek, he jerked his leg out, but the ink was already spreading.

It trailed after Vincent's frantic movements.

Vincent muttered under his breath, "I'm screwed," and covered his forehead with his palm.

Then, as if remembering me, he whipped around with a panicked glance.

His face flushed with embarrassment, his eyes full of flustered dismay, he gave me an awkward smile while gauging my reaction.

"This is, uh... well..."

"It's fine. More importantly, do you have a moment?"

"Is something the matter?"

Vincent asked cautiously, his face puzzled.

Each territory typically had one scribe.

Scribes were responsible for recording the major and minor affairs of the lord and their family.

They were dispatched directly from the imperial palace and were always under the lord's watchful eye.

So, visits like this from the lord's side weren't exactly welcome for a scribe.

The reason was obvious.

"No problem, really. I just want to see some records."

"Records are managed by the imperial palace, and viewing them requires imperial permission. Ah, this doesn't wipe off easily."

Vincent shook his head and pressed a handkerchief against the ink on his pants.

The blue handkerchief quickly turned black.

I stared at the handkerchief spreading like a soot stain from a fire, then pulled a cloth from my pocket and handed it over.

"Use this to wipe it."

"Ah, yes. Thank you."

Vincent took what I offered and dabbed at his still-damp pants.

Black ink spread across the white cloth like scorch marks.

"Anyway, showing you the records is difficult. Not because I don't trust you, miss—it's the rules. Ah, thank you for the handkerchief."

Vincent gave a procedural reply as he folded the ink-stained cloth inside out and handed it back to me.

I didn't take the cloth he was offering and simply lowered my gaze.

Vincent looked at me questioningly, then followed my eyes to the black-soaked fabric in his hand.

On the edge not fully stained with ink, I spotted an embroidered crest in golden thread.

A crest any imperial citizen would recognize.

"This crest, could it be...?"

"It's a very precious handkerchief bestowed by the previous emperor when Father inherited the countship. Now it's ruined."

"Wha... why would you give something like this to me...?"

"You looked like you needed it. I didn't expect you'd use it to wipe ink off your pants, though. I figured you'd just clean the ink off your hands."

I took the handkerchief from Vincent's hand and unfolded the side completely blackened with ink.

I shook my head regretfully.

"Looks like it's no good now. A gift from the previous emperor... Father’s going to be furious."

"Uh..."

"Oh, right—you were in public service, weren't you, Vincent? Isn't the penalty for losing or damaging an imperial gift dismissal... or something like that?"

I tossed the handkerchief into the corner trash bin and flashed a smile.

Vincent, who had been all business moments ago, approached cautiously with a highly tense expression.

"Um... Miss Sierra. W-Would you perhaps not mention this incident to the count...?"

"Of course I have to report it. It's something Father gave me, and now it's ruined—shouldn't I tell him?"

At my words, Vincent's face drained of color.

His ever-shifting expressions were a sight to behold.

From worry to anxiety, anxiety to anger, and anger to desperate pleading.

Vincent bit his lip and opened his mouth carefully.

"Um... if it's all right with you, could we keep this just between us...?"

"I can't do that. I have rules to follow too."

I threw his words right back at him, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Vincent nodded vigorously, as if conceding defeat, and spoke.

"...All right. I'll show you the records. Just please keep this quiet. I'm getting married next month—if I get fired, it's over."

"You'll really show me?"

"But you have to view them here only. No taking them out."

"Got it. I'll do that."

I smiled at Vincent, who had reluctantly agreed, and walked toward the records room door.

From behind came the sound of the trash bin lid opening.

I glanced back to see Vincent holding the ink-blackened handkerchief, letting out a deep sigh.

"But how should I dispose of this? Even if it's ruined, maybe wash it first..."

"Just throw it away. We have plenty."

"Pardon? Isn't this a gift from the previous emperor?"

Vincent looked utterly baffled.

I turned back to him as I opened the records room door.

To his dazed stare, I gave a small nod.

"Handkerchiefs bestowed by His Imperial Majesty are stacked upon stacks. He was so frugal that he gave them as gifts most of the time, from what I hear. I have over ten myself, so toss it. Or wash it if you want."

"..."

I flashed another smile and closed the door before Vincent could realize he'd been had.

The Brilloxen family has a saying passed down through generations.

Fraud and strategy are only a sheet of paper apart.

Sorry for the deception, but what can you do?

"The fool who bites at a free offer is at fault."

After all, the freest things are often the most dangerous.

The prolonged rainy season had forced the outdoor training grounds for the knights to close.

As a result, the knights had no choice but to crowd into the indoor facilities.

Smaller than the outdoor grounds, it was packed just from the knights present—most were tending to their gear, save a few.

"The expansion of the knight order's indoor training hall that you've been requesting since last year has finally been approved. Starting next year, it should easily accommodate all the knights without issue."

"Thank you, miss. I was worried it might not get approved since it's not used much normally, but that's one less thing to stress over."

"It's the least I can do for those who've sworn loyalty to the family."

I walked side by side with Brilloxen Knight Captain Obern, surveying the training hall carefully.

It was definitely cramped; the burly knights alone made it feel stuffed.

"How is the indoor hall being run right now? Is there a schedule? Or reservations?"

"Well... it's a bit complicated."

Obern trailed off with a troubled look and sighed as he scanned the hall.

I turned my head in the direction his gaze went.

In that direction were knights unable to train, instead maintaining their equipment.

"This rainy season has dragged on for five days already—they haven't held a sword while the sun's been up."

"What do you mean?"

"It's just..."

"Damn it! This is bullshit!!"

Obern's explanation was cut short by a crude shout echoing through the training hall.