Kays Translations

Chapter 55: The Power of Connections

The next morning, we began moving in earnest to put our new life in order.

The first stop was the Margrave’s estate. We went there to formally report my arrival and request an audience, but unfortunately, His Lordship was away on an inspection tour of his territory. The steward informed us that they would contact us once a date for the meeting had been decided.

After that, since we had only just moved in and our mansion’s pantry was completely bare, we took a carriage to the central square in the northern district, where the merchant guilds and trading houses gathered. The square was alive with noise — merchants calling out prices, the clatter of carts, and the scent of freshly baked bread and cured meat mingling in the air. We bought sacks of flour, bundles of vegetables, and a selection of meat for the week ahead. I also stocked up on salt, sugar, and several fragrant spices — pepper, cloves, and cinnamon — essentials for turning plain meals into something homely.

And, while we were at it, we purchased a generous amount of alcohol. This was mostly for Rugena, who hadn’t been able to drink anything during the journey because she had been serving as our escort. I picked out several bottles of wine and even a few stronger spirits for her. The entire cost of the liquor, I paid out of my own pocket — a small token of gratitude.

We didn’t stop there. There were still countless smaller things to buy — daily necessities, household tools, and consumables — and my mother, now a titled lady, needed dresses appropriate for her new status as well as comfortable daywear. By the time we returned home, the mansion felt a little less empty, a little more lived-in.

Still, despite our progress, there remained one glaring issue: we hadn’t managed to hire any servants.

The main reason, frustratingly enough, was that we had no connections to rely on.

Back in Japan, I never had a positive impression of nepotism. It always felt unfair — a lazy substitute for merit. But in this world, personal connections and reputation carry more weight than skill. Nepotism isn’t just accepted here; it’s the norm.

After all, in a world without identification papers or background checks, how could anyone verify a person’s past? Even if someone responded to a job posting, you couldn’t be sure they were who they claimed to be. A written résumé was little more than a self-introduction — no one had the means to confirm its truth.

In the worst-case scenario, an applicant could be a criminal in hiding, and unless they admitted it themselves, no one would ever know.

That was the kind of world we lived in.

Since our family had severed ties with House Kaupels, we couldn’t use any of my father’s old contacts. And to make matters worse, His Lordship the Margrave — the only man of power we were on friendly terms with — was away from town with Vessel-san. There was no one left to turn to.

So, as a last resort, we’d gone to the Employment Division at the territorial government office to ask for help finding potential staff. But the people recommended by that office were mostly those who’d been rejected from nepotistic placements, meaning… they tended to come with baggage. Some were unreliable, others had suspicious gaps in their history. In short, the hiring process had stalled.

That was how things stood when, about two weeks later, Vessel-san arrived at our door.

He had cut his hair short and was wearing a crisp white military uniform. It suited him — far too well, in fact. I almost burst out laughing at how different he looked from his usual rugged self, but I managed to hold it in.

“Have you taken a liking to the mansion?” he asked, settling into the sofa in our reception room and taking a sip of the tea that Stefana had served.

“Yes,” my mother replied, smiling warmly. “It’s quite lovely.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear that,” he said with a satisfied nod.

It was, after all, Vessel who had arranged the mansion for us. When we had received the key at the administration hall, there had been a letter enclosed — neatly listing the property’s address and confirming that the place had already been cleaned and restored. Of course, the actual work had been done by the Margrave’s household servants.

“I came by today partly to see how you were settling in,” Vessel continued, “but I’ve also got a message for you.”

“A message?” my mother tilted her head.

“Yeah. You’ve got an appointment with my father. The meeting’s set for five days from now, at two in the afternoon, in the administration hall’s reception room. Also, there’ll be an ennoblement ceremony for your new rank.”

“What? No one told me anything about a ceremony!”

“Normally, there wouldn’t be one,” Vessel admitted, scratching his cheek. “But you’re an outsider being appointed as a lady-official. His Lordship wants to make it official — and public.”

It made sense. A woman from outside the Margrave’s lands suddenly being given an official title was bound to stir resentment. Holding a formal ceremony was both a declaration and a warning — a way for the Margrave to say, ‘She has my protection.’

“…Then please tell His Lordship that I understand,” my mother said quietly.

“I’ll let him know,” Vessel replied.

“Is that all you came to tell me?”

“Not quite,” he said, glancing meaningfully at Stefana, who was still serving tea.

“Do you remember Dorothea?”

“Dorothea… the elderly maid who managed the guesthouse, wasn’t she?”

My mother nodded, her eyes softening in recollection. Back when she had been engaged to Vessel, she had stayed at the Margrave’s guest residence to strengthen relations with the family — that must have been when they met.

“That’s the one,” Vessel said. “Her daughter’s looking for work as a maid, but right now I’ve got nowhere to place her.”

“So you’d like to recommend her to us?”

“Pretty much. Since Stefana’s serving tea herself, I figured you’re short on maids.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Mother sighed lightly, though her smile was strained. “It’s been difficult finding anyone suitable.”

The truth was, it hadn’t just been “difficult.” It had been exhausting. Many of the candidates who came to us either tried to exploit our situation or looked down on my mother for being a widow. After countless interviews, the only people we’d successfully hired were Bartel — a thirty-two-year-old F-rank adventurer and part-time cook — and seventeen-year-old Rodolf, the son of a stable hand from the northern trade district. That was all.

“Then this should work out well,” Vessel said. “Dorothea’s daughter’s name is Heralda. Sixteen years old. She graduated from a private academy, so she can read, write, and do basic arithmetic — though she’s got no magical talent. Dorothea trained her herself, so she knows the basics of maid work. (…Looks a bit rough around the edges, though.)”

I chose to ignore that last comment. Private academies — shijuku — were small, privately run schools that taught literacy and math to anyone regardless of age. The curriculum was short, usually about two years, but enough to give students a foundation for clerical or domestic work.

“Since you’re recommending her, let’s give her priority for an interview,” Mother decided. “The earliest I’m free would be tomorrow afternoon. Do you think she can come?”

“She’s just helping Dorothea at the moment, so that shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll tell her to be here then.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Of course, calling it an “interview” was mostly formality. Considering how much we owed Vessel, there was no chance we’d actually reject the girl, even if she had a few quirks.

“If possible, could you introduce a few more maids as well?” Mother added hopefully.

“I wish I could,” Vessel said, shaking his head, “but Heralda’s the last one we’ve got in training.”

The Margrave’s household always kept a small group of servants-in-training to ensure smooth replacements when someone retired or married. After learning etiquette and proper service, they were either hired permanently or introduced to other noble houses.

Apparently, three maids had recently married out of service. Three others were formally hired into the Margrave’s household, one went to another noble family, and Heralda was the only trainee left unassigned.

“In that case,” Mother mused, “our only other option would be to ask the Merchant Guild for introductions.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Vessel warned immediately. “Especially with Al’s workshop business going on. Better stay away from the Merchant Guild.”

He was right. The guild did handle labor placements, but because they accepted anyone with a registration fee, they attracted all sorts — including spies and opportunists. It was risky to bring strangers like that into our household.

“But the Employment Division already told me they have no one else to recommend,” Mother sighed.

“Then why not hire a few orphans?” Vessel suggested. “They won’t have skills, but you only need to provide room, board, and a small allowance until they’re trained. Best of all, they come without strings attached. Heralda can teach them, and I’ll tell Dorothea to help out too.”

When he put it like that, it didn’t sound like a bad idea. Skills could be taught. Loyalty, on the other hand, was something that grew from trust.

“…You’re right,” Mother said after a moment’s thought. “Raising them from scratch might inspire stronger loyalty. Let’s consider it after Heralda’s interview.”

It wasn’t settled yet, but at least the situation was beginning to look manageable.

“Vessel-san,” I said when their conversation wound down, “may I ask something too?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“It’s about the workshop manager I requested earlier. The spider investigation is taking longer than I expected, so I’d like to postpone the appointment a bit.”

The Adventurers’ Guild should have some data on monster distributions, but there was no guarantee that spider-type creatures even existed in the region — and even if they did, there might not be enough of them to ensure a steady supply. I also wanted to test whether other spider species could produce usable silk.

Furthermore, I planned to issue gathering requests through the guild eventually, which meant deciding on the request rank, collection methods, and reward pricing. There was a lot to consider before we could move forward.

“That’s fine,” Vessel said, leaning back. “But just so you know, I’m often away on assignments. Can’t say for sure when I’ll be available to finalize the contract.”

“That’s all right,” I said. “I’m not in a rush. We can wait until everything’s ready.”

“Then when the preparations are done, send word to the mansion. I’ll come by when I’ve got time.”

“Understood. Thank you.”

Unlike the glass project, there was no urgency this time. The environment there in Helvendorp was very different from Ravenstadt, so I’d need to adjust the business plan once the investigation reports came in.

“Well then,” Vessel said, standing up, “that’s all for today. I’ll be heading back.”

“Thank you for everything,” Mother said, smiling gently. “You’ve been a great help.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied with a wave of his hand.

And with that casual farewell, Vessel left the mansion, his white uniform disappearing beyond the front gate as the afternoon light poured through the hall’s windows.

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