FPLNC 47

Chapter 47

Ellen’s tongue-clicking sound echoed louder than expected. At that, the head maid finally broke into tears.

“It’s the truth, Lord Roilet! Please believe me! If I had known Silla would commit such a dreadful act, I would’ve been the first to insist we drive her out! Please, believe me…!”

Looking down at the weeping head maid, Roil spoke in a low, subdued voice.

“Go and finish the duties assigned to you. I will question you about this again after Silla is captured.”

Once the head maid left the drawing room, Ellen and Erica approached Roil. His earlier stern, impassive expression had vanished, leaving behind only a hollow, drained face.

“Want to go to Aunt’s place?”

Seeing his face, that was all Ellen could say.

✿ ✿ ✿

Roil didn’t even have the time to grieve properly. Even though the countess had died, reports from the territory still poured in every hour, and tasks piled endlessly. On top of that, he had to oversee preparations for the funeral, which alone would require several people.

To make things worse, this was the season for formal reports, so the workload was several times heavier than usual. With Count Ret posted at the border, Roil was left to shoulder the weight of the estate alone, barely even setting foot in Diana’s chamber.

Late at night, long after the moon had crossed the sky, Roil sat in the study, flipping through documents with a blank face. Beside him, Ellen skimmed through the papers, sorting them into three stacks.

After a while, Ellen stretched her arms high with a yawn and glanced at Roil. He was still sitting in the exact same position as when they had started. She nudged him lightly.

“Hey, let’s stop here for today.”

Only then did Roil lift his head, bloodshot eyes weary.

“Yeah. You should rest too. Thank you. You worked hard. Aren’t you tired?”

Ellen let out a small sigh as she stared at him.

“Just cry already. Why won’t you?”

Roil shifted his eyes back to the documents, his voice flat. He forced the corner of his mouth upward and shook his head faintly.

“I don’t think I can cry yet.”

The exact same words came out of both their mouths at the same time.

“I knew you’d say that.”

Ellen sighed and pulled the documents right out of his hands.

“Trying to drain all your energy in one day? You’ve got a mountain of work tomorrow too.”

Roil didn’t reach for the papers, nor did he grab another pile. He just stared blankly into space.

“This stack is urgent for tomorrow, this one can wait a little, and this one requires the Count’s seal.”

As Ellen pointed to each pile, his vacant eyes slowly regained some focus.

“…But even as heir, I’m still a minor. I don’t have the right to use Father’s seal. And Mother… is gone, too.”

At the mention of Diana again, silence fell between them. Ellen had tried to talk about work, thinking it might help keep him focused, but she hadn’t expected it to circle back to Diana. Awkward, she scratched her jaw.

“You sent a carrier pigeon to Uncle, right?”

“Yeah. I sent one to Father this morning, along with the message I gave you to deliver.”

“Looks like Uncle won’t be able to come right away…”

Ellen spoke quietly, gauging Roil’s mood.

Among the documents she’d sorted earlier, there were reports saying the Nomads were growing restless, the situation escalating. Since their leader had been replaced, their strength and momentum were said to be far beyond the usual seasonal skirmishes. Count Karzel had even petitioned the main house for reinforcements.

Seeing Roil nod weakly, Ellen pulled out one of the pouches hanging from her belt and held it out. It was one of the pouches they had picked up in a cave long ago and split between them.

“What’s this?”

Roil instinctively accepted the item, then looked puzzled when he realized it was the pouch.

“Let’s send this to your uncle. You keep yours. You can exchange documents with him through it, deal with urgent matters quickly. The box is a little small so you’ll need to fold the papers, but it’s better than being unable to act at all.”

“And you?”

“Remember the box we found with these? I have that. So when I need to send you notes, I’ll just use that. Don’t worry, I won’t peek at your family’s papers.”

“I don’t worry about that. We trust each other that much. Besides, you’ve already seen plenty. You spent the whole day looking at them today.”

Roil gave a faint smile. It was the first time Ellen had seen him smile since arriving at House Karzel.

“That’s true.”

Ellen smiled back.

“Well, if it’s not urgent, I can always just send a Neshu to you. But give that one to your uncle.”

“Thanks.”

Ellen stood, firmly squeezing Roil’s shoulder. Without words, he could feel how much she worried for him, how much she supported him. He covered her hand with his own.

“Go sleep. You must be tired.”

“Mm. You too. Good night.”

✿ ✿ ✿

Ellen and Erica dragged Roil, who claimed he had no appetite, into the dining hall and kept sharp eyes on him to make sure he ate something.

In accordance with the Ducalion Empire’s mourning custom of avoiding red-colored food and sauces, the usual breakfast of tomato soup was replaced with squid ink soup. Seeing the pitch-black bowl, Ellen felt the mourning sink in all over again and glanced at Roil.

I’d better tell them to serve cream soup or corn soup for him from now on.

Under their pressure, Roil reluctantly nibbled on some bread when—

“Lord Roilet.”

Banner, stepping into the dining hall, looked relieved to see the young master eating.

“The Spirit Master and S—”

“What’s with you picking at your food like a child?”

A booming voice cut Banner off. It was Santuc, barging in with scolding words.

“Read the room!”

“Ow!”

Someone’s sharp voice followed immediately, along with a pinch to Santuc’s side as Serel rushed in after him.

“It’s been a while, Lord Roilet.”

Finally, the Spirit Master entered behind them, bowing in greeting. Ellen, Roil, and Erica—who had simply stared as Santuc and Serel arrived—stood at once when they saw the Spirit Master.

Ellen thought the face looked familiar, and when her eyes caught the silver embroidery on her robe, she realized—this was the same Spirit Master she had greeted during her first Paulet in Edelheim.

“Thank you for coming… Sir…”

“Sir Leti.”

When Roil faltered, unable to recall the name, Serel whispered it, and Roil quickly repeated it aloud.

“It’s been over five years since we last met, hasn’t it?”

Sir Leti, noticing his embarrassed tone, smoothly shifted the topic.

“Since Grand Spirit Master Josephine cannot leave the capital, I have come in her stead. I may be lacking, but I shall do my best. Please take care of me.”

She bowed lightly.

“Not at all. With His Majesty in the capital, it’s only natural the Grand Spirit Master cannot leave. Thank you sincerely for coming.”

Roil bowed in return, then guided her inside.

Watching Santuc and Serel confidently seat themselves without needing guidance, Leti remarked,

“You all seem to have kept up the bonds you formed at Paulet.”

“Really? Isn’t that normal for people our age?” Erica tilted her head.

“I gave the castella to the kitchen. Make sure Roil gets it. And bring me my food quickly, I’m starving.”

Hearing Santuc grumble at Banner, Leti smiled faintly.

“Even so, it’s rare for friendships like this to remain so close. I never attended Paulet myself, though.”

Not attending meant she was from a very modest noble family—or perhaps even common-born.

“I see. Guess we’re lucky to have found such good friends.” Ellen replied simply, since asking outright about family background would have been rude.

“So why’d you bring castella?” Erica asked Santuc.

“Because I figured he’d just pick at his food like that. Didn’t you all say last time that our house’s castella was really soft?”

“Oh? That’s thoughtful of you.”

Erica praised him with surprise.

“I just didn’t want to watch him peck at food. That’s all.”

Santuc’s ears reddened as he grumbled again.

“I bumped into him at the capital’s magic circle office—he was lugging a whole bundle of stuff. We had most of our things stored in Ellen’s pouch, so I couldn’t figure out what he was carrying.”

Serel chimed in, placing a napkin on her lap. Just then, a maid brought in plates piled with castella.

“This batch is softer than usual.”

Ellen’s eyes widened after tasting a piece.

“Yeah. This time they made it even softer. I was eating in my room when a Neshu brought me a letter. On my way, I told the kitchen to bake new ones and grabbed a whole one that was already made.”

Casting a glance at Roil, Santuc added the explanation. Roil, recognizing their deliberate attempt to lighten the mood, made a point of cutting a large slice and putting it in his mouth.

“Wow, you’re right. It’s so soft. Thanks, Santuc.”

“If you’re thankful, eat it all.”

Trying to hide his concern, Santuc swirled his juice glass, watching Roil from the corner of his eye.

With Adrian, who had been delayed by estate duties, now arrived, all the children were gathered. Together, they decided to assist House Karzel.

With both the Count and Countess absent, it was impossible for Roil to handle everything alone. So, Roil and Ellen managed estate affairs and paperwork, while the other friends took charge of funeral preparations.

But none of them had ever actually organized a family funeral before.

“The funeral’s in just two days—we don’t have much time. We really need to hurry.”

“This is the manual, right? Do we just follow it as is?”

“There’s only one volume on funerals? Preparing all this would take us a year.”

“Wait, this book is seventy years old. Things must have changed a lot since then.”

“Then what do we do? Anyone actually learn this from their tutors?”

“Well, we all studied it… we just don’t remember. Didn’t you?”

“Me? When?”

“How should I know?”

“Guys, we don’t need to bother with this whole section. I remember being told this part is skipped entirely.”

Serel folded down pages of the manual, recalling what her tutor had said.

Meanwhile, maids stood by the table, ready to assist with the physical tasks.