episode_0135

“…Uh, what are you doing right now?”

“You didn’t notice? The flow of mana in this mansion is unusual. I assumed it was meant to signal outsiders to observe proper etiquette when entering Grave Mansion—was I mistaken?”

“Mana? Oh, that…”

Was she talking about the barrier Chris laid down? Of course, I could come and go freely, but for outsiders, it would be an entirely different story.

Since this was the first time I’d brought someone home, I’d never really thought about it before.

“You don’t need to take off your shoes. It’s kind of like boarding a plane for the first time, right? Mmm… Now that I think about it, Luciella never got to live the ‘noble life’ she deserved.”

In that case, her behavior made sense.

On top of being a bit airheaded, Luciella spent her days rigidly training in swordsmanship without ever engaging in social interactions.

She herself was the Hero, and even her companions were all scions of prestigious families—imperial princesses, ducal heirs, and counts—so one might ask, “What’s the big deal?”

But astonishingly, Luciella herself showed not even the slightest interest in the diplomatic duties that came with being a Hero.

To her, that time was better spent slaying even one more demon.

As a result, voices grew louder condemning the uncontrollable rampages of the Hero and her party, which only worsened the collateral damage inflicted on the nation.

Even Elia, then the Emperor of the Empire, did her best to placate them, alternating between coaxing and ruthlessly suppressing them. But Luciella wasn’t the type of person who could deftly handle both administrative duties and Heroic deeds simultaneously.

And that’s where I came in.

Officially, I was treated like a useless madman, so I couldn’t openly intervene or offer help. Still, I did take quite a bit of work off her plate.

Back then, I thought I’d die, but compared to the first iteration of the world, it was far…

Just in case, though, I asked Luciella again.

“You’re not seriously telling me you thought that was common sense, right?”

“I once saw Cecelia do it. At the church—a place higher than her own home—she removed her shoes to pray. So naturally, if even in one’s own home—”

“No, no. You don’t have to. You can just walk in as you are. Even if the floor gets dirty, it’s not our problem.”

“Really?”

“The staff will clean any mess left behind. Just take a quick bath and rest wherever you like. If you have questions, ask anyone passing by.”

Luciella still looked unconvinced, but she must have decided to humor me for now, as she hastily slipped her shoes back on and followed behind me again.

And the moment we passed through the main gate, the exact thing Luciella had been worried about happened.

I forced a calm expression in front of the stiff-faced butler. What was his name again? Paul? Jim?

Even if I remembered all the staff members, if we barely interacted and maintained a distant relationship, it was only natural to get confused.

“Young Master, who is this…?”

“Before that, what’s your name?”

“It’s Paul.”

Ah, right. Paul. I should remember that now so I don’t forget.

“If you knew my name, were you perhaps scheming something behind—”

“I wouldn’t bother with that nonsense. I really just didn’t know. And as for her? She’s a guest who’ll be staying here. Probably for about a month, maybe longer. So prepare a room for her. Also, let her know any house rules or where the dining hall is.”

“Forgive my rudeness, but may I inquire as to who this lady is? If there’s even the slightest chance of trouble, I cannot accommodate her.”

“I told Chris I’d let Luciella stay here. So she’ll definitely approve.”

“…Miss Chris did?”

“What, you don’t believe me, but you’ll trust Chris?”

“Not at all.”

“I know what you’re thinking, but she’s also an academy student like me, so no need to worry. At the very least, she meets the bare minimum qualification, right?”

I gave Luciella a pointed look, and thankfully, she caught on quickly.

“Here.”

A Piand Academy student ID—an item coveted by students from all nations, including the Empire, and one that wasn’t easily replicated.

The moment Luciella presented it, the suspicion in Paul’s eyes visibly faded.

“Understood. I shall guide Miss Luciella shortly, so please wait here a moment.”

“Ah, save that for tomorrow. You haven’t tossed out dinner yet, right?”

“No. Since you haven’t eaten yet, Young Master, there’s still plenty left, including extra portions. Would you like to dine now?”

“What’s today’s menu?”

“Stew.”

“Ugh… Why’d it have to be that?”

Ever since my conversation with Chris, the blatant harassment aimed at me had decreased significantly.

Meals were properly served now, my room received the same level of care as Chris’s, and even when I occasionally bumped into staff, they no longer ignored me or talked behind my back.

But even so, trauma ingrained in the body wasn’t so easily shaken off.

Moreover, from their perspective, my sudden 180-degree change must have been unsettling.

I wasn’t oblivious to their feelings, so I tried to minimize interactions where possible.

“Then I’ll pass. Just call the kitchen and ask them to prepare a single serving. I’ll eat in my room.”

“…In your room, Young Master?”

“What, you expect me to summon all the servants and set up the dining table just to feed her? No thanks. It’s stew anyway—easy enough to eat in the room. And cleaning my room is easier than cleaning the dining hall, right?”

“…That is correct.”

“Then get moving. Just give Luciella a quick rundown of the house, then take her straight to the dining hall.”

Paul, realizing nothing beneficial would come from prolonging the conversation, bowed lightly and stepped away.

“Eric. There’s something I’m curious about. Regarding our earlier exchange.”

“Sure, I acted shamelessly, but if I actually pushed it too far, Chris would chew me out.”

“Chew you out? Chris would?”

“The name ‘House of Grave’ isn’t just for show. As a ducal house of the Empire, it holds authority—but it also demands conduct befitting its dignity.”

“I see…”

“Among the staff here, there’s no shortage of nobles. Most might belong to minor or provincial aristocratic families, but they still have leverage. If rumors spread that the second son of House Grave had supposedly reformed but still acted unruly…”

“The staff would report it to their families. Gradually, support for House Grave would wane—”

“I don’t know what exactly would happen, but Chris would definitely suffer for it. I might even be weaponized against her.”

“So this is the obligation of being a noble…”

“Don’t worry, your situation is different from mine—you can relax a bit. What I expect from you is tact, not groveling. Who dares demand deference from the Hero?”

“Perhaps removing my shoes would be better after all?”

“No, not that.”

In the kitchen, a round-lidded pot of stew awaited us. Despite my instructions, seeing the stew sitting there alone, with not a soul in sight, felt oddly hollow.

“Eric. This stew plate—it’s imbued with mana.”

“It’s enchanted with warmth preservation. Handy for keeping food fresh. You might not get it now, but you’ll see it often once you become the Hero. Food preservation is basic logistics.”

“I see.”

Luciella smiled softly as she picked up the bowl.

—–

“So this is Eric’s room.”

“Yeah, nothing special. Most of my life happens at the academy or the downtown. Home’s just where I crash.”

“Does Chris have a similar room?”

“Probably. But she didn’t come home to sleep today.”

“She didn’t? Then why return at all?”

“Sleep? Where would that workaholic find time for that? She’s probably drowning in paperwork.”

“Testing her administrative competence as the successor, I assume.”

If I went to Chris’s room now, I’d just get swept up in her mountain of documents and roped into helping.

“Just eat your stew quietly. Words have power, you know…”

“An excellent idea.”

Judging by Luciella’s expression, the stew must have been incredible.

Maybe I should’ve asked for a bowl too.

Just then, Luciella, who’d been watching me intently, held out a spoonful of stew toward me.

“Here. It’s too much for me.”

“…Thanks, I’ll take it.”

Luciella usually had a voracious appetite. It wasn’t just because she was the Hero—more like an instinctive survival reflex from childhood.

She’d once won a food-eating contest against Chris and Cecelia combined.

And yet, here she was, willingly sharing food with me. Was I dreaming?