Kays Translations

Chapter 43: A Strategy Meeting?

Ditnell had stayed at the village chief’s house for two days, observing the village and sending adventurers to explore the surrounding forests.

I hadn’t noticed it myself, but apparently a knight had been coming by occasionally to check on things.

Still, Stefana and the others assured me that no one had come close to the house during the night.

And then, finally, when Ditnell set out for Meluestat, I could sleep without worry.

…Well, that’s a lie. I, personally, had been sleeping fine all along.

The following day, even though it was a busy season for fieldwork, we gathered to discuss Ditnell and the matters ahead.

Before the meeting began, Stefana had prepared some tea infused with Sugar Rose and a small bowl of vegetable chips.

These chips weren’t ordinary snacks—they were thinly sliced vegetables, soaked in saltwater, and then had their moisture extracted through alchemy to create a crisp, delicate treat.

“This doesn’t go well with alcohol,” Rugena remarked.

“…That’s true,” I said.

Rugena seemed to judge everything based on whether it paired well with alcohol, but no one was serving any in the morning anyway.

“You both had to put up with a lot, Fana and Rugena,” Mother said.

“It was only two days, so we’re fine,” Fana replied.

“Yes, this sort of thing is common for adventurers,” Rugena added with a shrug.

Mother acknowledged their efforts and then began to speak seriously.

“First of all, it’s unusual that Ditnell came at all.”

She clearly found Ditnell’s personal visit suspicious.

At the time we left the Kaupels Viscount family, Ditnell held the position of assistant to the domain administrator—a role that usually prevented someone from leaving their territory so freely.

And yet, instead of sending a letter or a messenger, he had come in person. More unusually, he had said he would “wait in Meluestat until the matter was retracted.”

If he were still serving as the assistant, there simply shouldn’t have been enough time for that, Mother explained.

“Also, I had never seen the knights and maid who accompanied him when he was at the Viscount’s house. The carriage they rode in didn’t belong to the Viscount family either.”

It seemed the first to feel suspicion were the three knights and the maid.

If a Viscount family were to be guarded by a small number of people, a veteran who had served for over ten years would typically be assigned. Mother noted that it was odd to see unfamiliar individuals guarding Ditnell.

As for the maid, staff often changed, so she couldn’t definitively say she wasn’t a servant of the Viscount family—but she hadn’t been there three years ago.

From this, Mother speculated, “Perhaps Ditnell was the only one sent from the Kaupels family.”

“But even that didn’t reveal how deeply the Kaupels family was involved,” she continued.

Zernike Sanders’ name came up early in our discussions, so it became clear where the carriage and personnel had come from—but the ultimate intentions of the Kaupels family remained a mystery.

If it were only the Sanders Company involved, that would be one thing, but if the Kaupels family were acting, there was the risk of being forced to return.

“It’s too late for Father to act, and Ditnell wouldn’t move without my brother’s instructions. So I wanted to know how much the Viscount family was involved,” Mother said.

My former uncle, Hodfried Kaupels—once my mother’s brother and my former uncle—was the eldest son of the Kaupels family and worked as an assistant to the domain lord.

The brothers didn’t get along well, and I knew Ditnell, in particular, resented being two ranks below his older brother as assistant.

“But Ditnell said, ‘I’ve sent a letter to retract the severance notice,’ which means the Viscount family must be somewhat involved,” Mother continued.

A severance notice could be sent unilaterally, but retracting it usually required mutual consent. For parent-child relationships, however, sometimes only the parent’s consent was needed.

“So… does that mean we’ll be forced to return?” I asked.

“Not necessarily. Just to be safe, we asked that person to confirm the severance notice, so I don’t think it will be retracted. But the final decision lies with the Heraldic Office, so we cannot be sure yet.”

“That person?” I repeated.

“Someone you don’t need to know about,” Mother said, patting my head gently.

I suspected the person she meant was the Marquis Vahenal. Mother never called him my father by name and refused to say so outright. She likely didn’t want me to think of him as such.

“I was also concerned about the timing,” she added.

“The timing?” I asked.

“Yes. Ditnell said, ‘they discovered our whereabouts six months ago.’ Do you remember what we were doing six months ago?”

“Six months ago… autumn—ah, we were preparing the glass workshop in Meluestat.”

From Mother’s explanation, it seemed that when Zernike learned of our glass business, he realized that instead of investigating the workshop, it would be more reliable to manipulate Mother. He had entrusted Ditnell to handle the matter.

Then, Ditnell, at Zernike’s request, had sent a letter to my father asking him to retract the severance notice.

This seemed to be the sequence of events.

Although our involvement in the glass business wasn’t public, it wasn’t entirely secret either, and some people outside the circle of associates had learned about it.

“Most likely, Zernike’s goal is information about the glass business.”

“And they brought up marriage just for that?”

“Originally, it was to strengthen ties with the Viscount family, so it wasn’t ‘just that.’ But the value of the matter certainly increased,” Mother said.

In other words, I had sown the seeds of this trouble myself.

Because of my careless actions, we had ended up in this situation.

Still, the glass technology information had been given to the Baron Merlot family, so Zernike could not obtain it.

“…Mother, if I handed over the spider silk technique, would that satisfy them?” I asked.

“—Arthur-sama!” Rugena exclaimed.

“Rugena, I’m sorry. But this is my responsibility,” I said.

Rugena had once told me to cherish the things I created, but Mother came first for me.

“Ugh?!”

As I spoke, Mother wrapped me in her arms.

“Arthur, you are kind. But that’s not good. I feel bad for Fana and Rugena too, and giving even one piece of information might lead to demands for more,” she scolded gently.

Rugena had said the same thing, but I was willing to risk it if it meant protecting Mother.

“It’s fine. I won’t let them do as they please,” Mother said.

“Mother?”

“I want to take some precautions for that very reason,” she replied.

First, Mother would be bound by a restriction spell, preventing her from sharing any of the technical information I had created without me present.

Casting the restriction spell required going to Meluestat, but with Ditnell there, she couldn’t go immediately.

Next, in case Mother’s severance notice was retracted and she was forced back to the Viscount family, she would be protected by Rugena and taken to the Baron Merlot family.

Since I was never officially part of the Kaupels family, even if the notice were retracted, I wouldn’t have to go—but that would mean being separated from Mother.

“Mother…” I murmured.

“Arthur, it’s alright. I’ll do everything I can to prevent that,” she said.

“Tell me if there’s anything I can do.”

“Yes, I’m counting on you,” she smiled.

All I could really offer was craftsmanship, so I needed to figure out what I could make.

“Again, Arthur-sama is thinking of something outrageous,” Rugena said.

“—I’m not thinking of anything outrageous,” I replied.

“Then what were you thinking?”

“…I was thinking about what I could make.”

I hadn’t really considered it in depth, but I had a few possibilities.

Afterward, I listed everything I could potentially create with the knowledge and techniques I had at the moment.

Meanwhile, Mother, with a somewhat troubled expression, was writing and sending several letters.

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