Chapter 06
Three days passed.
Perhaps people truly were creatures of adaptation. Even though life in Wibin was completely different from the past ten years of his life, Elric had gradually begun adjusting.
He still wandered battlefields in his dreams and woke up flailing, desperately searching for his dagger, but aside from that, his life was surprisingly comfortable.
“Young Master.”
As always, Elric rose from bed to Aldio’s voice.
After washing up and changing clothes, he leaned on his cane and headed toward the dining room.
As expected, Tiria was already there.
“Did you sleep well?”
She greeted him with a brief bow.
“Good morning.”
Things were still awkward between them.
She was a woman of few words, and they spent most of the day in different places, making it difficult to grow any closer.
Still, it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it had been at first.
That, too, was adaptation. At least now Elric no longer wolfed down his food and fled the table.
“Going to inspect the wheat fields again today?”
“Yes.”
“I apologize. With my leg like this, I can’t even help with the work.”
“It’s fine. I’m used to it by now.”
The words struck him unexpectedly.
Thinking about it, his apology was shameless.
He was the one who had abandoned her, yet here he was apologizing now.
While Elric silently scolded his foolish mouth once again, Tiria stopped moving.
She stared quietly at her plate for a moment before adding,
“…I meant that I became accustomed to it after learning from the head of the household.”
Ah.
So that was what she meant.
A small breath escaped him.
Only then did he realize something.
It really was Father’s way.
Hoben Portman had always been the type who needed to see important matters with his own eyes.
The wheat fields would have been no exception.
After liquidating all of his businesses, only a single wheat farm remained under the Portman family name.
Elric still didn’t know why his father had made such a choice, but if it was the only business left, then his father would certainly have trained Tiria personally before passing it on.
Lost in thought, Elric asked casually,
“By the way.”
“Yes?”
“How did you… get along with Father?”
The question slipped out before he could stop it.
But he didn’t regret asking.
More than regret, curiosity consumed him.
His father had left behind only an inheritance and no explanation. Desperate for clues, Elric found himself turning to Tiria.
She answered immediately.
“I learned work from him. Other than that, there is little I remember.”
“…Did he ever talk about me?”
“No.”
The certainty of her answer left him speechless.
He had almost asked if she was sure, but stopped himself.
Because somehow, it sounded believable.
He could picture it perfectly.
That inhumanly cold-blooded father and this quiet woman sitting together at a table like this.
The silence would have been suffocating.
The only conversations exchanged would have been:
“Do this.”
“Yes.”
That would have been the entirety of it.
A chill ran down Elric’s spine.
Terrifying.
He knew he shouldn’t think this way, but for the first time, he almost felt fortunate that he had run away.
Elric let out a hollow laugh.
The meal ended soon afterward.
“Then I shall be going.”
As always, Tiria gave a small bow.
Elric stood with the support of his cane.
“Take care.”
And with that, he left the dining room.
* * *
Though he was the master’s son, Elric’s position within the manor was closer to that of a guest.
Naturally so.
He had run away at fourteen and stayed away for ten years.
He had no idea how the estate operated anymore, and with his injured leg, he couldn’t even help with simple chores.
As a result, his daily routine consisted of sitting lazily in the garden and watching people come and go.
He sat beneath the cool autumn air, gazing at the fountain, observing the workers, and exchanging greetings with them.
Doing so made him realize something.
There are many new faces.
The core staff who managed the estate remained unchanged.
But among the servants handling miscellaneous tasks, few were people Elric remembered.
Most were complete strangers.
And because they didn’t know him, they didn’t greet him with the warmth shown by the head maid, the butler, or the coachman.
They weren’t hostile.
But neither were they affectionate.
They regarded him as a stranger.
“What are you looking at so intently?”
It was Aldio.
The butler approached from behind carrying a small wooden box.
Elric smiled faintly.
“I was watching the servants. There are many faces I don’t recognize.”
“Indeed. Ten years is a long time.”
Aldio sat beside him on the bench.
“Have any of them offended you, Young Master?”
“Of course not. No such person could remain in this estate.”
Even though his father had passed away, this was still the land he had built.
Hoben Portman had despised servants who were disloyal to their masters.
Whenever he hired someone, loyalty had always been his highest priority.
One could even say he viewed people as parts in a machine.
Whatever they thought behind his back didn’t matter.
As long as they performed their duties faithfully for the smooth operation of the estate, that was enough.
To think that philosophy would disappear after only one year was laughable.
Elric pushed the thought aside.
“By the way, what’s in that box?”
“Ah, letters addressed to Madam.”
“To her?”
“Yes. It’s harvest season, after all. There are countless matters requiring attention.”
That made sense.
Even in Elric’s memories, harvest season had always been the time when his father was busiest.
“What kind of letters?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hm?”
“What servant opens correspondence before the master has read it?”
The small smile on Aldio’s face reflected the same unwavering loyalty as ever.
Elric chuckled.
“I can see why you never became close.”
“I carried out my duties faithfully. To be honest, I wasn’t particularly close to the late master either.”
That was true.
His father had regarded Aldio as an indispensable component, not as a personal companion.
Aldio had understood that perfectly and always treated him with utmost professionalism.
Changing the subject, Elric asked,
“So during the day she works in the wheat fields, and at night she handles paperwork?”
“That’s right.”
“She must have a difficult time.”
Pity and guilt washed over him.
Had he not run away, all of those responsibilities would have been his.
Instead, he had abandoned his duties and was now spending his days leisurely.
How shameful.
If only she had complained or blamed him, it would have been easier to bear.
But Tiria had never once grumbled.
Not a single time.
After a moment of thought, Elric spoke.
“Would it be possible for me to handle some of those letters?”
At the very least, reading was something he could do with his injured leg.
He didn’t understand the business itself, but he could sort correspondence or summarize its contents.
Surely that would lighten her burden, even a little.
For the first time in a while, he felt motivated.
“Hmm…”
Hesitation appeared on Aldio’s face.
Elric grinned.
“I am still technically the master of this house. I do have the right to read them.”
It was a shameless statement.
But it was also true.
Aldio stared blankly for a moment before letting out a quiet laugh.
“…Indeed, you do.”
He handed over the wooden box.
“The office is still where it was ten years ago.”
“The center room on the second floor. The heart of the manor.”
“Exactly.”
“Very well. Carry on with your work.”
“Yes, sir.”
Tucking the box under his arm, Elric headed toward the office.
* * *
Unfortunately, enthusiasm alone didn’t magically grant understanding.
Naturally, Elric couldn’t make sense of most of the letters.
Business transactions, reports from merchants, harvest yields, profit calculations, endless statistics—
The contents were incomprehensible.
Actually solving any of the problems was impossible.
Fortunately, he had always been good at grasping context.
At the very least, he could sort them.
He organized everything into three categories:
- External correspondence
- Merchant and business-related letters
- Personal correspondence
As he neatly arranged the letters, one envelope caught his attention.
[To My Beloved Daughter.]
The seal stamped upon it belonged to House Wibin.
Tiria’s family.
Elric’s gaze lingered on the letter.
Curiosity.
He still didn’t know why she remained here.
Whether her intentions were good or bad, one thing was clear:
Over the past several days, she had worked tirelessly for the sake of the Portman estate.
Even though, by all rights, she was practically a stranger.
He knew reading someone else’s letter was disgraceful.
Yet he couldn’t shake his curiosity.
Perhaps it was merely self-justification.
But maybe—
Just maybe—
The letter contained some clue about his father as well.
That thought crossed his mind.
Naturally, his hand drifted toward the wax seal.
His fingernail scratched lightly against it.
Then he sighed and glared at the envelope.
After repeating that several times, Elric finally squeezed his eyes shut and broke the seal.
His impulsiveness had won.
He regretted it briefly.
Then he shook his head.
I’ve already opened it. I might as well read it now.
Even if he later had to apologize for invading her privacy, at least it wouldn’t feel completely pointless.
More shameful, perhaps.
But that was a problem for later.
The contents of the letter unfolded before him.
Like a mischievous boy committing a wrongdoing, Elric felt excitement and guilt battling inside his chest.
And then—
This is…
His brow furrowed.
