Chapter 18 - Yohan Miyatro (3)

There was not a trace of affection or joy in the father and son's first meeting. Only awkwardness hung between them.

Amid the uncomfortable silence, the middle-aged head maid offered a suggestion.

"The Baron has prepared a banquet in your honor, young master Yohan. Shall we proceed to the dining hall?"

"Thank you for the warm welcome. A banquet, is it? I look forward to it."

The head maid replied without expression.

"There is no need to speak so formally to us servants. Please address us more freely from now on."

Yohan was the heir to the baronial house. It had not been publicly announced, but everyone in the castle had realized as much. The timing of his arrival was too convenient.

Raguel's disabilities barred him from the succession, and the Baron's younger brother had been putting constant pressure on the domain. Backed into a corner, the Baron had been forced to make a decision. Rather than lose his house to his brother, he had chosen to name his bastard son as heir. An illegitimate son of his own blood, however lowborn, was preferable to a brother he regarded as an enemy.

That was what everyone in the castle assumed.

Yohan nodded.

"Very well. I shall dispense with the courtesies."

For a child who had lived as a commoner, he was remarkably assured. Treating others as his inferiors seemed to come naturally to him.

The Baron's knight gave an incredulous chuckle and said to Gaf,

"Already playing the master. An amusing little fellow."

"That's how he is. Always at ease."

Gaf had never once seen Yohan flustered or shaken. He was always brimming with confidence, as though every situation were under his control.

Now was no different. He had been in the lord's castle for less than five minutes, yet showed not the slightest hesitation.

"Lead the way. I'm hungry."

The head maid blinked, then bowed her head.

"F-follow me, please."

They all left the corridor and headed to the dining hall. Mouthwatering aromas drifted toward them. A splendid variety of dishes covered the tables.

The Baron took the head of the table, and Yohan sat diagonally beside him. The knight, treasurer, administrator, and priest took their seats as well. Gaf's place was at the far end.

The maids and tribute girls were not permitted to sit at the central table. They went to the separate tables arranged on either side.

No one picked up their cutlery first. It had been so long since their last banquet that they wanted to dig in immediately, but all eyes remained on the Baron. The meal could begin only with his permission.

The Baron stole a glance at Yohan, gauging his mood.

"My son says he's hungry. Let us eat before we begin. Everyone, take up your cutlery."

Just as he took his fork, Yohan spoke.

"Before we eat, I have a few proposals to make."

"... What are they?"

"First, send the tribute girls home."

Everyone's eyes widened. The tribute girls were a subject no one dared touch. Speaking of them was tantamount to challenging the Baron.

Yohan had crossed the line. He might be the heir, but he was still nothing more than a green young bastard.

The flustered administrator adjusted his glasses.

"That is out of the question."

"You must be in charge of procuring them. Explain why."

"W-well..."

As the administrator faltered, the Baron's knight cut in with a smirk.

"It seems our newly arrived young master feels sorry for those little bitches."

He pointed to the table on the left. The slight young girls sat with their eyes lowered in fear.

"I shall make allowances for your youth. Your education must have been limited as well, so permit me a word of advice."

With an arrogant look, the knight continued.

"Just as we differ in station, appearance, and sex, so too do our ways of life differ. Farmers tend crops, and knights serve their lords. We fulfill our appointed duties and find purpose in doing so. What of the tribute girls?"

He looked at the girls.

"Answer for yourselves. When are you happiest?"

The tribute girls answered in chorus.

"The Baron's pleasure is our happiness."

There was not the slightest quaver in their voices or tone. They were like emotionless machines.

The knight smiled, apparently satisfied.

"You heard them? They find fulfillment in serving their master. There is no need to pity them at all."

"You've missed the point. Their happiness or misery is of no interest to me. I merely wish to question the practical benefit."

Yohan looked at the bald, middle-aged man beside him.

"Treasurer, how much do we spend on the tribute girls' room and board each month?"

"... Approximately eight Casilian silver coins."

Yohan turned his gaze back to the knight.

"Enough to buy twenty iron swords."

Money featured frequently in the novel Chronicle of Humans and Demons. As an avid reader, Yohan could hardly have failed to learn the value of its currency.

"Is this expenditure worth that much?"

The knight's smile vanished. He had meant to take the bastard down a peg, but it was proving harder than expected.

"Value depends on what one assigns to a thing. Do you know how much a saintess's handkerchief fetches on the black market? The price would astonish you. Nothing more than a discarded rag, yet to someone, it is worth its weight in gold."

Yohan snorted.

"Rather than offer honest counsel, you invoke even sacrilegious examples to defend your lord's mistakes. We ought to be saving every last coin to prepare for war, and even that might not suffice. Why squander time and money on personal indulgences? Could it be that you mean to blind my father to what is happening?"

The knight's brow furrowed sharply.

"What insolence is this?"

"War clouds hang over the domain. Unless you have some ulterior motive, a knight such as yourself could hardly be so complacent."

The knight slammed the table with a bang.

"An ulterior motive, you say!"

The corners of Yohan's mouth rose.

"I'm telling you not to invite suspicion. Those who mislead their masters with sophistry are usually either sycophants or traitors."

The knight trembled violently, like a volcano on the brink of eruption.

None of the servants could hide their astonishment. A ten-year-old boy had that proud knight completely at his mercy. Yohan spoke with a cold, ruthless precision that belied his age.

Like a dagger.

It was chilling at first glance, but seen another way, it was the mark of a head of house.

"I will not stand for such an insult! Calling me a traitor!"

"That assessment can improve at any time, depending on your conduct. Let us begin by setting the matter of the tribute girls right."

Yohan looked at the Baron.

"I would like to hear your thoughts, Father. Will you continue throwing eight silver coins into the rubbish every month?"

Every gaze turned to the head of the table. Ordinarily, the Baron would have begun by bellowing, but today he seemed to lack even the strength to be angry. He merely broke out in a cold sweat.

"Please answer me, Father."

The Baron forced an awkward smile.

"As to that..."

Yohan's expression abruptly darkened. He stared straight at the Baron.

"Pardon?"

The Baron flinched. Memories of the previous night came creeping back.

"Y-you're right. I'll send the tribute girls home."

Startled gasps rose around the room. Everyone was aghast. The Baron, a man consumed by possessiveness and obsession, was giving up his toys so easily. It was almost impossible to believe.

Yohan looked at the administrator.

"See to it promptly."

The administrator adjusted his glasses before answering.

"Understood. I will have them all home by the end of the month."

The tribute girls froze solid. Their wish had come true, yet not even tears of joy came. It did not feel real.

"Really..."

"W-we can go home?"

Yohan nodded.

"Go home and live happy lives. Forget everything that happened here."

The tribute girls gazed at Yohan as though he were the Great Saint. To them, he was nothing less than a savior.

Knowing Yohan's true nature, Gaf could only feel bewildered. Those gazes, brimming with gratitude toward a Demon, left him with a strange sense of dissonance.

Yohan smirked at him.

"What a stupid look on your face."

Gaf immediately composed himself. His usual stony expression restored, he said stiffly,

"... The food will go cold. Let us eat."

Yohan shook his head.

"I have a few more proposals."

The knight spoke through grinding teeth.

"What more do you want?"

"This concerns my uncle."

Kril Miyatro, the Baron's younger brother and Raguel's uncle, was constantly watching for a chance to seize the house. He was a major obstacle to Yohan. To swallow up the baronial house, Yohan would have to deal with Kril first.

Yohan looked at the Baron.

"I would like to meet my uncle. Please invite him to the castle."

The knight scoffed.

"Do you mean to lure him here and kill him? Having lived as a commoner, you may not understand, but our noble society is not so simple. Kill an invited guest, and you will not merely be expelled from political life. You will make an enemy of every house in the kingdom."

Yohan answered without expression.

"I have no intention of killing my uncle."

The Baron looked puzzled.

"Then why do you want me to summon Kril?"

"My uncle and we are family. It would be wrong to cross swords before we have even spoken."

"He cannot be reasoned with. I know him well."

"Trust me with this. At the very least, there will be no bloodshed on our side."

Something in Yohan's words struck Gaf as odd.

'At the very least, there will be no bloodshed on our side?'

Which meant the other side might well spill blood. Yohan might actually invite Kril here and kill him. The half-demon before him was utterly unpredictable.

"Father?"

The Baron swallowed a disapproving grunt, but ultimately could not refuse Yohan's proposal, which sounded more like an order.

"... Very well. I will send him a letter."

All the servants looked from the Baron to Yohan in puzzlement. Other than Ilea, no one could bend the Baron to their will so easily. Was he that attached to his bastard son? This was a father who treated even his legitimate son harshly.

No one could understand the Baron's behavior.

Yohan spoke.

"Lastly, I would like to inspect the grain transaction records and tax ledgers."

The treasurer gave a guilty start and looked toward the knight.

The knight folded his arms.

"For what reason?"

"I wish to review the house's finances. Do I need any other reason?"

It was only proper for the heir to examine them.

"Treasurer, put the documents in order and bring them to me by tonight."

The bald, middle-aged man scratched the crown of his head.

"I-I shall."

Yohan looked at the knight.

"If you have something on your conscience, you are welcome to confess now."

"Ha!"

The knight's eyes burned with hostility and the urge to best him.

Yohan's lips curled upward.

"I've talked far too long with the food before us. That concludes my proposals."

Three matters in all: the tribute girls, his uncle, and the house's finances. He had laid them on the chopping board. If he handled the cooking well, he could swallow the domain in a single bite.

"Now, let us eat. I look forward to your cooperation."

As Yohan picked up his spoon, everyone in the dining hall raised their cutlery. They all waited for him to take the first spoonful. Even the Baron was watching for his cue.

"Enjoy your meal."

Yohan brought a spoonful of soup to his mouth.

Only then did the banquet begin.