Kays Translations

Chapter 8: An Audience with Baron Merlot

―[Meluestat – The Inn]―

The moment we stepped through the creaking wooden doors of the inn, the warm scent of wood polish and hearth smoke mingled with the rich aroma of stewed vegetables. Behind the counter, a plump woman with strong arms and a cheerful, work-worn face was setting out cutlery and wiping down tables in preparation for the evening meal.

She glanced up at us, eyes crinkling with practiced hospitality.

“Welcome! Are you here for a meal, or are you looking for a room?”

“Lodging, please. A room for four… yes, one week, if that’s possible.”

“Of course. Breakfast and supper are served here, but meals aren’t included in the room price, so you’ll just pay when you eat.”

“That’s fine. I understand.”

The room we were given was simple yet neat. Near the entrance stood a sturdy table with four chairs, clearly meant for shared meals or quiet conversation. Beyond a wooden folding screen, four beds were arranged side by side, a single small window letting in a thin shaft of light. There was no closet, only a long shelf along the wall where luggage could be stored.

It wasn’t luxurious, but it was serviceable—practical lodgings for travelers who valued utility over elegance.

“Fana,” Mother said, pressing a sealed envelope into Stefana’s hands. “Please deliver this letter and request an audience with the Baron.”

“Yes, at once. I’ll be back soon.”

With brisk efficiency, Stefana accepted the letter and left the room, her footsteps fading down the hall.

“Al,” Mother turned to me with her calm but deliberate tone. “I should tell you tomorrow’s plans.”

She laid everything out clearly, as she always did: once the meeting with the Baron was over, we would sell the honey-gemstones and then purchase slaves to act as guards. Afterward, she intended to make contact with an adventurer she once knew, which meant we would be staying in town for a while.

“You know adventurers?” I asked, surprised.

Mother chuckled softly, a faint shadow of nostalgia flickering in her eyes. “Not exactly. Someone I knew… became an adventurer.”

That startled me. For a noblewoman like her to count an adventurer as an acquaintance—it was unexpected. But if her acquaintance had become one, perhaps they too had once been a noble.

Before long, Stefana returned, bowing lightly at the door.

“I’ve come back.”

“Welcome home, Fana,” Mother said warmly.

We had just been sipping tea together, the warmth of the brew soothing after the day’s travel, when Stefana delivered her report.

“Lady Tine, I was told to come tomorrow morning. The Baron himself has requested it.”

“Tomorrow? That’s unusually quick.”

“Baron Merlot mentioned his schedule had suddenly opened. Perhaps something happened?”

“It’s possible,” Mother mused, eyes narrowing slightly.

Normally, an audience with a noble required days—sometimes even two weeks—of waiting after submitting a petition. For us to be granted a meeting the very next morning was highly unusual. Something about it tugged at my thoughts, though no amount of guessing would reveal the reason.

Exhaustion soon weighed on us all. After a quick bath and a modest supper, sleep claimed us almost immediately, the day’s journey catching up with our bodies.

The following morning, we arrived at the Baron’s estate. Only Mother was permitted inside the manor itself. Stefana and I were instructed to wait in a small pavilion in the garden—a sheltered gazebo with latticework vines twining up its posts.

As the hours ticked by, I found myself wondering: Why exactly has Mother come to see the Baron?

―[Meluestat – Baron Merlot’s Estate, Reception Room – Side: Martine]―

“Lady Martine, please wait here,” a maid said gently as she guided me into a reception room.

The Baron’s manor was not merely a residence—it served also as the administrative heart of the territory and a guesthouse for visiting dignitaries. Thus, the room I was led into was located within the administrative wing. Its walls bore maps of the region, the shelves were lined with records, yet the furnishings were comfortable enough to soothe guests. A maid soon returned with a tray, setting a porcelain cup of fragrant tea before me.

Time stretched. Nearly thirty minutes passed before the door opened with deliberate weight.

“My apologies for keeping you waiting.”

It was Baron Tounis Merlot himself, striding in with the authority of one who bore the responsibilities of land and people alike.

“Your Excellency,” I rose, bowing gracefully. “It has been too long. I’m relieved to see you in good health.”

“And you as well,” the Baron replied, a rare softness in his voice. “I hear Stefana has been of use to you.”

“You’ve already received word?”

“Indeed. Keties submitted his report some days ago.”

So, word had reached him already. A faint heat touched my cheeks—it was embarrassing to know my every step was recorded, but it was only natural under his oversight.

“I’m sorry for any trouble I’ve caused. Thanks to your consideration, matters ended without incident.”

The Baron’s eyes narrowed slightly. “It was what I most feared.”

“What you feared, my lord?”

I had assumed he would worry about monsters or bandits—such dangers were common in the frontier. But instead, he meant the dangers of human relations. I realized then I had been too naïve, too careless in considering how others might view me.

“…You must be more aware of how you appear in the eyes of others,” he said firmly.

“How I appear…?”

I lowered my gaze, understanding dawning. Among simple villagers, I stood out too much. Even stripped of rank, the education of a noblewoman clung to me—the way I spoke, the way I carried myself, even the instinct to keep my clothes clean and my posture straight. It was something I could not entirely suppress.

“I… find it difficult,” I admitted quietly.

“I thought as much,” the Baron said, though his tone was not unkind. “But even being aware of it gives you some measure of control. Remember that.”

“…Yes. Thank you for the advice.”

And so the conversation turned.

“You asked to see me directly, rather than Tobias or Rosanne. What is it you require?”

I opened the small wooden box I had brought and placed it upon the table between us. Inside gleamed the honey-gemstone—an extraordinary piece, vibrant and luminous as though sunlight itself had been captured within.

“I came because I wished to show you this before I took it to the merchant guild. If it interests you, I would rather entrust it to you first.”

The Baron’s brow lifted with curiosity. He took the box carefully in both hands, tilting it toward the light.

“Remarkable… its size alone is rare, but more than that—it seems alive, full of motion.”

“Your words honor me,” I replied, bowing my head.

“Yet… alas. I do not collect such things. A pity.”

My heart sank a little. I had hoped to build favor by offering it. Still, duty was fulfilled: I had shown it to him first, honoring the courtesy owed. I would sell it to the jewelers afterward.

The discussion shifted again—toward guards, toward my son, toward the worry that gnawed at me daily.

“Stefana alone is not enough?” the Baron asked.

“For myself, perhaps. But for my son… he wanders, disappears without notice. I cannot always watch him.”

It was the truth. My child was brilliant, but unpredictable—frighteningly so at times.

“And Stefana is yours, not mine,” I added quietly. “In the end, I must return her. That is why I seek to purchase two slaves skilled in combat.”

The Baron frowned thoughtfully, then nodded. “Very well. But until then, keep Stefana at your side. I will authorize her to prioritize your orders. That way, she may also guard your boy.”

“…You would allow that?”

“I would. You have my word.”

Relief swelled within me. With that assurance, I could take the time to choose proper guards without leaving Al vulnerable.

The rest of our conversation turned to his wife Rosanne—still wielding a blade, still fighting monsters instead of settling into motherhood. The Baron sighed heavily, clearly exasperated. I promised I would speak to her if given the chance.

At last, our meeting ended with polite farewells. Yet as I left, unease tugged at me. The household bustled too briskly, the air taut with an urgency not explained. Something was stirring beneath the surface.

―[Meluestat – Baron Merlot’s Estate, Pavilion – Side: Arthur]―

Two long hours passed beneath the shaded lattice of the garden pavilion before Mother finally returned from her audience.

Her expression was composed, though her words revealed the significance of what had transpired.

“Fana,” she said, turning to Stefana, “I’ve been granted authority over you by the Baron. You will now follow my orders directly.”

Stefana’s eyes widened in surprise. “His Lordship gave you command authority?”

“He did. At times, I may need you to prioritize Arthur’s safety above all else. The Baron agreed.”

“…I understand.” She bowed respectfully. “I will receive the formal order from His Lordship.”

She disappeared back into the manor to confirm, leaving me alone with Mother once more.

“Al,” Mother said, her voice gentle now, “I plan to sell all of the honey-gems. Is that acceptable?”

I nodded. “Yes, I’ll leave it to you.”

“Thank you.”

She smiled and reached out to ruffle my hair, her touch warm and reassuring. I knew what she truly meant: it was the great masterpiece she wished to confirm. That piece was special, beyond compare—but if she thought it best, I would not oppose her.

Soon after, Stefana returned, and the three of us reviewed the details of her new orders. Until now, her foremost duty had been to guard Mother. From this moment onward, her allegiance lay in Mother’s hands—and by extension, she could serve as my shield as well.

“Now then,” Mother said, rising to her feet. “Let’s move on to our next destination.”

“Yes,” I replied, excitement sparking within me.

“As you wish, Lady Tine,” Stefana affirmed.

Our next stop: the only jeweler in the lord’s city, where the honey-gems would be appraised and sold.

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