CH 14

“So, Sir Carlton’s the problem?” the treasurer asked.

“Yes.”

As the duchy was occupied, all administrative functions were paralyzed. On top of that, Carlton sealed off the castle outskirts and those inside couldn’t contact the outside world. Group assemblies were strictly banned; no matter the crisis, locust or otherwise, Luisen wasn’t sure Carlton would allow the people to gather at Luisen’s command.

“Looking at the situation, I don’t know if he’ll listen.”

Carlton was very, very careful. The lords who once followed the second prince were definite enemies, and the lords that followed Prince Ellion were allies that may soon stab him in the back. Luisen, who surrendered on his own, may have been believable but not unconditionally trustworthy. He may have left Luisen to his own devices, but he never dropped his guard around him.

“What if I just let things happen? There’s a ‘Flame of the Holy Spirit’ at every estate. Couldn’t they prevent the crisis on their own?” Luisen asked.

“That will be difficult. Many of the young, able-bodied men have been drafted into the army. They’re already so short-handed….the harvest will take more time than usual, and the damage will be greater than normal.”

“Umm….I see.” Luisen had no choice but to request access from Carlton, though he wasn’t sure if a man who would burn the golden fields in a fit of fury would care about something like a plague of locusts.

“Do you have a plan?”

“…It’s not like I don’t have one. Don’t worry too much. I’ll figure something out and come back,” Luisen said.

Luisen somehow looked reliable–the treasurer was internally surprised. ‘The lord says he’s going to fix something on his own? Really…I never thought this day would ever come.’

Luisen had never stepped up to do anything on his own before. He had taken the mentality that the natural order would ensure that the others around him would take care of everything. When a bug flew into his cup of water, the old Luisen wouldn’t say anything, wouldn’t throw the water away nor cry. He would just remain silent until someone noticed the problem and resolved it for him.

Inactivity became a habit–there were so many servants in the household. Eyes were constantly on him, catering to his desires. Belatedly, he realized that this pattern wasn’t healthy and he attempted to dissuade the servants, but it was difficult to change such deeply ingrained behavior. The uncomfortable behavior of the servants was part of the reason Luisen ran away to the capital.

‘Now that I think about it, it’s quite unusual for the lord to offer surrender personally,’ the treasurer thought.

Some people had said he acted impulsively out of fear–most advisors thought this way. But on second thought, Luisen was not the type of person to be proactive, even while scared.

‘They say that people change during times of crisis…maybe he’s maturing.’

‘No, it’s too early to expect anything from him. I have no idea why he’s suddenly worrying about locusts, but he could have fabricated an excuse to get out from underneath Carlton’s thumb. Only time will tell.’

Suddenly, the treasurer recalled something.

“Come to think–the territory that we have always been in contact with about the locusts’ route is run by Baron Laures.”

“What about that place?” Luisen asked.

“The lord of that region invited Carlton to a meal and deliberately kept him waiting for half a day. Ultimately, he died from having his limbs torn off.”

“…..Hurk.” Luisen turned pale. He had completely forgotten about Carlton’s errand while searching for the key and the ‘Flames of the Holy Spirit.’

“I-I’ve got to get going!” Luisen quickly scurried away, forgetting all about his body’s aches.

‘It’s too early to expect anything. Of course.’ The treasurer had thought him quite undignified.

****

In the Duke of Anies’ office, Carlton looked up while checking through the ledgers. He had thought his eyes were stiff–it turned out much time had passed. After sending Luisen, he had sat down and sifted through letters and paperwork. No matter how strong his body was, of course he’d feel uncomfortable after sitting in one place for too long.

Carlton got up from his seat; he had little leisure time to enjoy the view from the window. ‘This Anies Duchy….I’ve been delayed here far longer than I had expected.’

When coming south, Carlton’s goal was to quickly return to the capital after a successful battle. Therefore, the army did not pack enough food for an extended stay. Since the south was full of food, they had planned to source it all locally.

His original plan was perfect, and despite his tardiness, the conquest was quickly accomplished without much loss. However, he didn’t expect success to become a bear trap for his ankle. He could not return to war if the duchy did not offer food compensation, but receiving this repayment was dependent on the household retainers’ work productivity.

Usually, in this scenario, his company could have solved the problem by cutting the heads of the advisors or breaking down the locked doors of the warehouses and taking everything they could see.

But now Carlton’s livelihood was at risk. As Luisen pointed out, it was now time for Carlton to truly reflect on his own situation. Therefore, he could not use the aforementioned methods, and instead, Carlton had no choice but to personally pack his spoils of war and supplies on behalf of the absent retainers.

That was why he was checking over the administrative documents of the southern duchy. Fortunately, Carlton had learned to read and write while chasing after a village priest, and he had learned to balance ledgers while escorting a simple peddler. An ordinary mercenary would have either been left empty handed or would have risked his life with crude methods.

Anyway, Luisen Anies…he was the problem.

How incompetent must he have been for his retainers to go on strike at such a crucial time?

At least he seemed to recognize he was at fault and was now doing his utmost best to survive, but Luisen was shockingly unhelpful. In just a few days, Carlton was more aware of the financial situation of the duchy than the duke himself.

A complete disappointment.

Carlton had some expectations for Luisen when he entered the castle. Luisen’s insight was decisive and his attitude seemed promising; it was as if he had looked into the future. He was also surprised that the duke had come to personally surrender to him and had a clean and courteous manner. A noble that didn’t treat his soldiers like dogs were rare.

All the nobles Carlton had met underestimated him. They were afraid of his force and cruelty, but inwardly mocked him. No matter how well they hid it, the moment Carlton showed a bit of mercy, their condescending attitudes bled through.

The victory banquet was Carlton’s own way of testing Luisen, and his expectations were quickly shattered. He didn’t miss the underestimation he saw in Luisen’s eyes.

‘I can put up with everything else, but I can’t stand being disregarded.’ Carlton had immediately grabbed Luisen’s lapels at the time. Perhaps he could have been a bit more patient, but currently, Calrton had no regrets.

‘Who told him to be so condescending, straight to my face?’

Also, he just manhandled him onto the table. Considering the punishment inflicted upon other nobles in the past, Carlton had thought this was a very moderate response.

Anyway, despite his disappointment, Carlton had tried to be kind to Luisen in his own way. Since then, he had not laid a finger on him and had spoken to him in honorifics. He didn’t even blame him for delays in his company’s departure. However, Carlton was still so annoyed and vented by working him hard.

‘This isn’t even a big deal?’

In the old days, the scent of blood would already have traveled by wind. But Luisen didn’t know that, did he? He always gave such a gloomy, short response to his jokes. Carlton complimented him? Nothing. Argued with him? Nothing. Even mocking him? Still the same faint reactions. Carlton’s sense of inferiority was stimulated.

‘Is he just not responding because he thinks I’m less than dirt beneath his feet?’

However, Luisen’s attitude was not due to his displeasure at interacting with someone low-born. Luisen was completely discouraged by Carlton, unable to make any noise nor answer properly. He was nervous, but no one else knew how he felt inside.

Not Carlton, nor his servants.

Luisen’s appearance was to blame. With white skin and delicate features like a ceramic doll, Luisen gave off an aloof and mysterious vibe–like an artist caught in some greater reverie. On top of that, his childhood lessons had ingrained harshly within him an expressionless and elegant attitude. Even if he were to sit blankly on a stool, he’d still appear like a haughty aristocrat.

In particular, whenever Luisen lowered his head slightly, his golden eyelashes contrasted his blue eyes, creating an image of an angel. Carlton felt that no matter what he did he would seem like a devil compared to that false innocence; his temper rose feverishly.

‘He can’t even find one key and is making me wait?’

He’d never had to wait for people to fulfill his orders. The task was neither important nor urgent, just something to keep the young duke out of the way, but when time passed and Luisen didn’t show up, he became annoyed.

‘Should I just leave it all to fate and swing my sword at him?’ Carlton took out his dagger and began to fiddle with it in his hands. Meanwhile, a rushed pattering of feet preceded the abrupt opening of the door.

Luisen took poised steps as he entered the room. Each step seemed light as a feather. Perhaps on any other man it would have seemed unfortunate, but these airy steps somehow fit Luisen’s face–pallid skin that seemed to have avoided the sun all its life and softness that indicated not a day of hard manual labor. His was a face that seemed to know no suffering.

Completely the opposite of Carlton’s.

Luisen’s very presence–his whole body which screamed noble breeding–scratched at Carlton’s insides. 1

TN:

Carlton: Terrorizes people regularly

Also Carlton: I don’t understand why people are scared of me–I was so nice to them.

Footnotes

This is an idiom for feeling uncomfortable or feeling some type of guilt