Chapter 6 - The Departure of the House Retainer Arveil
Ariarein showed the policy, and the butler, the scribes, and Arveil added corrections to it, or filled in the details to translate it into practical work.
It was the usual way of conducting business at the Marquess's capital residence, and this time was not much different.
The problem was that a large volume of documents and letters had to be sent out in a short amount of time, so the scribes were extremely busy.
It was exactly as Ariarein had said when she guaranteed the hardships.
"This won't be worth it unless we receive quite the wages."
Finishing one document and putting down his pen, an older scribe joked while standing up for a moment to rotate his shoulders and neck.
"Don't worry, I'll be generous enough that you can easily buy your daughter's wedding dress."
Ariarein responded while checking the text, signing it, and handing it to Arveil.
The scribe in question was not someone hired in the capital but was from the Marquess's territory, and he had left his family there.
He might have been thinking of it as a good opportunity to return to his family.
"If it is for my daughter and my lady,"
The scribe, who picked up his pen while laughing, sat back down.
"I must give myself another whip."
Everyone in the study did not stop their hands even while laughing.
The contents of the documents were diverse, and the recipients of the letters varied from lord nobles to local governors, merchant houses, national scribes, and the church.
Ariarein checked all the contents, sometimes adding a word herself, and signed them one after another.
It was Arveil's role to check the contents once more, put them in envelopes, apply sealing wax, and press the seal.
Several letters for which there were instructions from Ariarein were placed on the desk along with their envelopes without being sealed.
Occasionally the butler would come in to place new documents or take away the accumulated ones.
It seemed that for documents to be delivered within the day, they were having footmen run them.
While having light dinners and late-night snacks in between, the work continued until late at night.
Around the time it passed midnight, Ariarein ordered, "Rest for today."
The scribes, with tired expressions, tidied up their paper and pens, gave a polite bow to Ariarein, and left the study.
Arveil, who remained, had the lady-in-waiting who was waiting outside the door bring a hand towel soaked in hot water and silently offered it to Ariarein.
Ariarein, who accepted it without a word, threw herself onto the sofa, pulled out her hair ornament to let her hair down, and placed the roughly folded towel over her eyes.
It was a sight she would absolutely never show except in front of her family and Arveil.
"—As expected, I'm tired."
From Ariarein's mouth, who remained in that posture for a while, words that were neither a complaint nor a weakness leaked out along with a deep sigh.
"You have not taken a proper rest since evening. Please rest, my lady."
"I suppose so.
I'd like to say 'you too,' but, Arveil."
While slowly raising her body from the sofa, Ariarein removed the towel that had been covering the upper half of her face and took it in her hand.
"Yes."
Arveil, who responded shortly, reached out his hand. It was with the intention of taking the towel.
Ariarein, who stared at the outstretched hand, grasped it with both of her hands and looked up at Arveil with an upward glance.
Arveil, with a very slight wry smile on the corner of his mouth, slowly pulled Ariarein up.
"I have an errand to ask of you."
"Is it now?"
"Yes, I need you to leave immediately."
"I am, my lady, also your guard."
"I know. I can only ask this of you.
As for my personal security, arrangements have been made for Kurz to come tomorrow morning."
"If it is the young master, I can be at ease."
"The Shadows are currently being moved all over, so I can't use them for guarding, but I have two experts from the Konoe Mares Knight Corps. Besides, once we start moving, it will be safe, won't it?"
"—It is as you say."
After a brief pause that carried the intent of 'I cannot wholeheartedly agree,' Arveil nodded.
Ariarein, who picked up the bundle of letters on the desk, sank back into the sofa once more.
"The seal and sealing wax there—no, not the usual one, that one over there.
Yes, bring that."
Arveil, who brought the seal and sealing wax as told, placed them on the low table set beside the sofa.
"Thank you.
I'll explain. Sit down."
To Arveil, who tried to sit on the small chair across the table, she shook her head, saying "Not that one," and pointed to the spot next to her with her hand.
"Excuse me."
Giving a small sigh and a brief word of apology, Arveil sat next to her.
Ariarein took the letters that were not yet sealed one by one, explained the contents to Arveil, and put them into envelopes.
At the same time, she briefly commanded what should be done at each destination.
—Certainly, this is.
Arveil thought while listening to the talk.
It might be a job that only he could do.
Not just a messenger, but the job itself, which required physical strength, courage, and resourcefulness, felt like a proof of trust from Ariarein.
Having finished the general explanation, Ariarein wrote the addresses on the envelopes with her own hand and sealed them one by one.
The seal pressed into the wax was different from that of the Marquess's house.
"This is what happens because they don't even try to know what's going on below the ministers."
"That's what I mean by looking down on us," Ariarein said after finishing the sealing, gathered the bundle of letters into a bag, and handed it to Arveil.
Arveil stood up and stared at the offered bag for a brief moment.
He accepted the bag respectfully with both hands and bowed with polite movements.
"I have certainly received them, my lady."
"I'm counting on you, Arveil."
With just a slight, hesitant pause, Ariarein added.
"—Please, be safe. I'm relying on you."
"Yes, without fail."
Arveil, who nodded, gave another polite bow in front of the door.
"I am off.
You too, my lady, please take care."
Saying only that, Arveil exited.
The sound of quick footsteps receded down the hallway.
Ariarein, who stared at the closed door for a while, diverted her gaze to the ceiling after a bit.
She closed her eyes tightly and took a deep, deep breath as if trying to drive something out of her heart.
"—It's okay."
She said in a small voice and lightly slapped her own cheeks.
Standing up, Ariarein picked up the handbell and called the waiting lady-in-waiting.
※ ※ ※ ※ ※
"Master Meiros?"
The puzzled voice of the groom brought Arveil back to reality from his thoughts.
A swift horse equipped with a saddle and a horse cloth indicating he was an official messenger was being led by the groom.
"Ah, sorry. Thank you.
Sorry for the late hour, I was given an urgent errand by the young lady."
He spoke to the groom, attached the bag to the saddle, and mounted in one breath with his foot in the stirrup.
"No, no," the groom responded with a yawn and returned to his room.
What Arveil was thinking about was not the errand he was commanded.
—That hand.
He was remembering that the hand of the young lady, which had offered the bag containing the letters, had been trembling slightly.
And her spoiled, playful attitude just before that.
There was no way she wasn't anxious. She was merely suppressing it so that no one would notice.
He briefly thought about whether he should return even at the risk of being scolded, then reconsidered that the young lady would not want such treatment.
Looking up once at the window of the study where the lights had been extinguished, Arveil left the mansion.
Doesn't the part where a perfect person shows a slightly slovenly side only to someone close, or the weak part that a person who looks strong can't quite hide, just make you feel things? (The face of the author who has it bad)