Chapter 17 - The Flaw of Marquess Randolph Mares (Part One)
Marquess Randolph Hazen has a reputation as a great lord who devotes himself to improving the lives of his people.
He has never shown the same talent for war as his father, the previous head, Lambert, but even so, there is no room for doubt regarding his skill in improving the standard of living for the people while protecting the borders.
However, Randolph had a small flaw that everyone who served him knew about.
Arveil, who had traveled down the Mares Road as an official envoy, arrived at Mares, the end of the road, approximately four days after leaving the Royal Capital.
It wasn't just travel.
It was a journey during which he handed over documents to various lords along the way, requested cooperation from merchant houses, and spread rumors in the towns.
Although Arveil had reached the peak of exhaustion, naturally, he was not allowed to rest.
Upon arriving at the Marquess's official residence, he requested an audience with the Marquess himself as soon as he dismounted.
"I have an urgent report from the representative in the Royal Capital.
I must see His Lordship immediately."
His tone and manner were calm, but there was something haunting in his eyes.
"I will relay it at once.
Master Meiros, did you gallop here all the way from the Royal Capital?"
An elderly knight nodded and agreed, likely sensing that it must be something very serious.
"Indeed.
As this concerns the safety of the Marquess's house, please."
"I understand—hey, someone! Is anyone there!
An express messenger from the Royal Capital! Inform His Lordship immediately! It is an express messenger from the Royal Capital!"
As the knight raised his voice, the sound of several voices and clattering footsteps hurried away.
"For now, I will prepare a room and a light meal.
—And a change of clothes as well. It would be best to take a breath and tidy yourself up."
"I am grateful for your consideration."
After replying, Arveil suddenly noticed something.
He asked, lowering his voice a notch.
"Do I smell, after all?"
"A little," the elderly knight replied with a wry smile.
"It cannot be helped after galloping from the Royal Capital.
His Lordship will not reprimand you, but well, it is better to be clean.
In any case, even if it is an express messenger, he will not see you this very instant. There is time.
Even if it is not a full bath, I will have hot water and towels prepared."
"—He will see you now."
He felt like he heard someone's voice.
Opening his eyes, Arveil looked around.
It was a wide, bright room with sunlight streaming through the window.
It seemed he had fallen asleep while sitting in the chair before he knew it.
"Master Meiros?"
Along with the sound of a knock, the voice of a lady-in-waiting, tinged with a suspicious tone, echoed once more.
That voice brought Arveil back to reality.
The Marquess's official residence. From now on, he had to have an audience with the Marquess and report various things.
"Ah, sorry.
I'm coming out now."
He said as he stood up.
He remembered wiping his body, changing out of his dirty clothes, drinking two glasses of water and one glass of orange juice, and eating a light meal.
On the plate where four light meals of ham and thinly sliced cheese sandwiched in white bread had been lined up, three remained untouched.
It seemed he had collapsed from exhaustion just as he was about to eat the second one.
Arveil poured water from the pitcher into a glass, drank it down, took a breath, and opened the door.
The lady-in-waiting and the knight from earlier were waiting.
"Were you able to rest a little?"
"Thanks to you, somehow."
The knight nodded and started walking down the hallway.
Arveil followed behind.
"The representative is a reckless taskmaster. Perhaps it is only because it is you."
"Well, it's not a matter of life and death.
—How long was I resting?"
Without answering the latter half of the knight's words, Arveil threw out his own question.
"About half an hour or so. It wasn't much time.
His Lordship also cleared his schedule immediately. Since it's an express messenger from the representative.
—By the way, what kind of news is it?"
"I cannot speak of it. At least, not until I have His Lordship's permission."
At Arveil's reply, which was like cutting something off with a hatchet, he felt the knight chuckle softly.
"I suppose so. Well, fine, if it's necessary, it will be known eventually."
He likely hadn't expected anything from the start and it was just a way to keep the conversation going.
While exchanging short conversations as they walked briskly, the two had already arrived in front of the Marquess's office.
"My Lord, I have brought the express messenger from the representative in the Royal Capital."
The knight who knocked on the door raised his voice.
"Let him in."
A calm voice echoed from the other side of the door.
The knight opened the door, and Arveil stepped into the office.
As he bowed, the door closed quietly behind him.
Standing up behind a large desk was Marquess Mares, Randolph Hazen.
Reddish-brown hair mixed with white and gray eyes.
He had gentle features, but his bearing possessed the dignity appropriate for his status.
"Arveil, is it? You have returned well.
I am glad to see you are healthy—has it been half a year?"
"Yes, it has been since you came to the Royal Capital in the spring, My Lord."
"Do not be so formal. How is Aria doing?"
"I have a letter from the young lady.
My Lord, first, please dismiss the others."
In the office were a butler and several scribes.
"Hmm," Randolph nodded and turned his gaze toward them.
"You heard him.
Everyone, go take a breath outside until we are finished talking."
The way he chose his words in such a situation made one think it was very like this Marquess.
The butler and scribes stood up silently, bowed individually, and left the office.
Waiting for everyone to exit, Arveil presented the letter.
Papa (the second one) who knows nothing.