episode_0023

23. Just Rough Up a Fox and They’ll Deliver.

Two men entered the party hall.

One was a man wrapped in fat over muscle—what people might call a tattooed pig trotter broth kind of vibe.

He laughed heartily as he entered the ballroom, chatting up everyone in sight.

Though some ignored him, his straightforward and manly personality strangely kept him from leaving a bad impression.

Meanwhile, the other man who entered with him had a sly look.

Judging by his sturdy build, he seemed like someone who could handle a fight—

—but from the way he hunched and scurried about, he might as well have been a petty lackey.

He’d bow deeply to nobles, then once realizing they were minor landowners, stiffen back up and walk away proud.

As they wandered around, the party’s atmosphere grew slightly awkward, but otherwise, nothing much seemed wrong.

If anything, it was like a freshman mixer where a fossil-like senior showed up and cluelessly mingled.

Just as I was tilting my head in confusion, Erica approached me.

“Hey, our fox. Aren’t you going to greet the other nobles?”

“Huh? Am I supposed to?”

Oh crap, was that proper etiquette?

Flustered, I scrambled to fix my posture, but Erica just chuckled and replied.

“Ha! No, not like that. It’s just that usually, when lowlifes meet big-shot nobles, they grovel like dogs hoping for scraps.”

As an example, Erica pointed at Liriana with her finger.

Silver hair. Red eyes.

Liriana, a distant relative of the emperor, bowed her head as she chatted with the nobles, squeezing in even a single extra word.

Erica imprinted that sight onto me before speaking.

“Still… I don’t hate that kind of attitude.

No matter how capable you are, without status, this world won’t let you soar.”

“Then what about me…?”

“You… I like the way you are now.

Clueless about politics, silently doing your work, just laboring away…”

Erica paused for a moment.

Then pressed her finger playfully against my nose and said:

“It’s kind of adorable, actually.”

Almost like a confession…

Erica might’ve been short and flat-chested, but she was still a beauty unlike any I’d ever seen in my past life.

Hearing someone like that say something so close to a confession made my face burn up.

Seeing me like this, Erica giggled, wearing an expression like she’d just won.

“Huh, you’re blushing. Never seen this side of you before.”

“Well… I *am* a guy.”

“Right. And we’re both at the age where we should be considering marriage, no?”

“Ah, now that you mention it…”

I hesitated for a second.

I wondered if I should bring this up—

But no, reporting thoroughly to your superior is *always* the right move.

Especially since Erica, with her political acumen, should be the one to judge.

“Lord Raygar asked if I’d be interested in marrying his daughter.”

“……And?”

“Huh?”

Erica’s expression turned icy.

The warm atmosphere from earlier might as well have been a lie—her gaze was chilling.

“I… haven‘t given an answer yet…”

“It’s fine. Just tell me honestly.

A good ruler *should* care about their subordinates’ affairs.

Besides, if it were *your* child, they’d obviously be talented. Natural to be curious.”

The words themselves were gentle, but her tone wasn’t.

Not only that, she dropped her noble speech—as if barely holding back anger.

Even if uneasy, lying to a noble was unthinkable, so I answered truthfully.

“Honestly, saying I’m *not* interested would be a lie… right?”

“…Is that so?”

“I mean, Lord Raygar’s middle-aged, but he’s still plenty handsome. His daughter’s probably pretty too, huh? Haha…”

The moment I said that, the table Erica had been tapping her fingers against sank inward—like wet clay.

She smiled—no, just curled her lips while keeping her eyes frozen—and spoke.

“Kain.”

“Yes…?”

I hunched my shoulders like a kid caught by his mom misbehaving.

I might not have known *what* I did, but the air screamed that I’d messed up…

Still, despite the mood, Erica didn‘t scold me.

She just spoke to me in that icy tone like it was casual conversation.

“Lately, I’ve taken a liking to musical instruments.”

“Is… that so? Given how well you paint, you’re really talented at everything.”

No clue why, but I started buttering her up to lighten the mood.

To be fair, Erica *was* a genius who excelled at nearly everything—painting, combat, strategy—so it wasn’t even insincere.

But despite my earnest words, Erica still stared at me with dead eyes.

“That’s why I bring this up. None of the recent instruments have satisfied me.”

“Oh…?”

“Shawms, harps, lyres, vieles… they all feel inadequate.”

“R-Really…?”

“The scales are incomplete—hard to tune precisely. String and wind instruments lack stability.

Their volume is weak, tone too shallow to convey emotions.

They’re even cumbersome to play and difficult to learn.”

My boss’ rant stretched longer and longer.

Trembling, I sipped my drink—until Erica grabbed my wrist.

With strength mismatched to her small frame, she slowly pressed my hand down and stared into my eyes.

“Is there *no* instrument that plays easily, adheres to exact standards, and can express emotion?”

Oh f*ck this.

What am I, goddamn Doraemon? Pull something like that out of my pocket on command?

I tried glaring at Erica for bullying me again—but her grip tightened even more.

As if she was suppressing rage.

“Make it.”

“Yes.”

I nodded.

I didn’t get *why* she was mad, but calming her down first seemed wise.

Her demands didn’t stop there, though.

“I’ve heard many commoners’ residences are aging.

We need something sturdy yet malleable—yes, like clay—for construction.”

“……”

“Especially something absurdly durable, unfazed by magic or attacks.

I’m drafting a policy for semi-permanent housing, passed down generations for cheap rent.

More work for architects, affordable housing for commoners—and in war, they’d double as shields. Win-win, no?”

“But, Countess… you just gave me the instrument task…”

Erica stared me down.

“When your lord commands?”

“You obey.”

Damn classism.

Also, how the hell is this medieval woman from like 800 AD so *modern*?

She’s so groundbreaking that she’s practically invented landlordism before anyone else could imagine it.

And from how she talks, she’s already urban planning?

“I figured ownership under my name could replace taxes with steady income.

Especially since Redmain will keep developing—centralizing infrastructure in the capital.”

Truly a genius.

Even as I grumbled, Erica kept watching me.

As if sensing my unease, my hand twitched toward drafting a resignation—but Erica’s grip made it impossible.

Had she anticipated this?

“Lastly, this is priority one.”

Another task?!

Is she a demon or human?

She’s already copied crops using guano fertilizer, too!

“It’s about siege warfare.”

“Yes…?”

“Develop a weapon that can breach walls effortlessly.”

Do I look like goddamn Doraemon…?!

I couldn’t take it anymore and snapped back.

“Did the guano island negotiations go poorly?”

“No. Negotiated brilliantly—bought it cheap. Even secured rights to another white-rock island.”

“Then you don’t trust my crop yield promises?”

“Not that either. I trust you more than anyone.”

I glared at her, exasperated.

“This isn’t vacation. I did my job well—why triple my workload?”

“The unforgivable crime of wagging your tail at me.”

…I have a tail?

Am I secretly some space-warrior race’s vessel?

While swallowing that absurd thought, Erica laced her fingers with mine like a lover and answered.

“And surely—surely—you wouldn’t dare ignore tasks from your lord and laze around with women instead?”

“…Right?”

“Nor would someone dumb enough to think lax results mean less work—not even a stray mutt would believe that.”

How’d she know?!

Sweating buckets, I nodded stiffly.

But Erica, seeing my lack of reaction to the “women” part, giggled in relief.

Back to her usual playful-yet-imposing ruler self.

“The ball lasts a week. I’ll be happy if you finish just *one*.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t fret—the capital’s finest smiths are near.

You’re sharp, but your education lacks in magic.

Last siege, you didn’t even recognize mana-absorbing wall materials.”

Should’ve kept my mouth shut…

Erica placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Know that I trust you more than myself.”

Sniffling, I fled the ballroom and headed straight to the nearest forge.

—————————————————————

After Kain left, Erica watched his retreating back with a satisfied smile.

“Heh, rushing straight to work. That’s why I took interest in you that day at the arcane furnace.”

A flawless subordinate—greedless, gifted, efficient.

A genius who delivers exceptional results in record time.

And despite his talent, utterly incorruptible.

Could any follower be more impeccable?

Especially when he was once a mere commoner.

Praising her own keen intuition for recruiting him at his lowest, Erica nodded proudly.

Mid-self-congratulation, her friend Cecil approached.

“You seemed upset earlier. What happened?”

“I *was* upset. But I’m in a good mood now.”

Erica pictured Kain again.

That naive fox, drenched in cold sweat, caving to all her demands—even tearing up before obediently leaving to work.

Adorable enough to make her want to bite his cheeks.

Smug, Erica turned to Cecil, her rival.

“Oh right—I’m bringing something else new soon.”

“Hooh? More goods this time?”

Cecil had already tasted Redmain’s mass-produced books and pencils.

If Erica spoke this boldly, it *had* to be game-changing.

“A perfectly tuned instrument. Earthquake-and-war-proof materials. A siege weapon to flatten walls at once.”

“What? How could anyone possibly—…”

Cecil scoffed, skeptical—yet her tone held admiration, not dismissal.

Erica grinned and answered.

“Whenever I need something, I just rough up my fox—and they deliver.”

Unaware of a certain someone, sniffling over blueprints in a forge.