Chapter 14

He managed to retrieve his sword and return to his room without incident, but a lingering unease kept sleep at bay.

He tossed and turned for hours, finally succumbing to drowsiness only as dawn began to break. With a brief glance at the pale morning sky, Kazuki drifted into the depths of sleep.

He must have fallen into a deeper slumber than he anticipated, for by the time he opened his eyes, the sun was well past its zenith.

He dragged his heavy body out of bed. Perhaps the fatigue from the previous day still lingered.

(Not that it was physical damage, anyway.)

He rubbed the cheek Erika had slapped. Physically, the pain was long gone. The ache was internal—a weight pressing against his heart. Even after a night’s rest, he was plagued by the guilt of having made a young girl cry.

And yet, even if his throat were cut, he couldn't have told her he "hadn't killed them." Silence was necessary, not just for his own survival, but for Erika’s protection as well.

"Hmph. Pointless."

Harold’s mouth wouldn’t even permit a sigh or a half-hearted mutter that "it couldn’t be helped." If this iron-clad stoicism was Harold’s true nature, Kazuki had to admire the man's mental fortitude—though one could also argue he was simply an incredibly self-centered bastard.

The moment he stood up, his stomach growled, protesting the missed breakfast and lunch. However, he decided to shower first to clear the fog from his brain.

As a side note, the Stokes mansion lacked a bathtub. The culture of immersion bathing simply hadn't taken root here. It had been nearly four months since he had transitioned into Harold’s body, and in all that time, the only proper bath he'd enjoyed was during their one-night stay at the Sumeragi mansion.

That bath—an outdoor tub made of what looked like Japanese cypress—had been a luxurious affair, more akin to a hot spring than a simple tub. He made a silent vow to check if it was a natural spring should he ever have the chance to visit again.

Suppressing his craving for a long soak, Kazuki finished his shower and headed toward the dining hall to finally address his hunger.

On the way, he encountered Yuno walking from the opposite direction. Ordinarily, there was no need for Harold to exchange words with a maid, but the image of Erika’s tearful face flashed through Kazuki's mind. Before he could stop himself, he was interrogating Yuno about her mistress.

"How is that sickly woman faring?"

In Harold’s internal classification system, Erika had somehow evolved from a sheltered lady to a "sickly woman." It was a hopeless way to show concern, but it was the best he could do.

"Well, she seems to be feeling even worse today... Perhaps we should consider returning to the Sumeragi Territory for her to recover, just as you suggested, Lord Harold."

Yuno brushed off the insulting epithet without a flicker of emotion. Kazuki, who had been bracing himself for a lecture on his poor manners, secretly wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, relieved by her easygoing nature.

Returning home might seem like a waste of time, but given how much Erika’s unexpected stay was complicating things, Kazuki felt he would be more at ease once she was gone. For reasons entirely different from his parents, he didn't want the Sumeragi party discovering the truth behind the Clara incident.

"By the way, Lord Harold, do you happen to know what might be causing Lady Erika’s decline?"

"How should I know? I’m not a doctor."

That was a lie.

He might not have known the specifics of her health over the past two weeks, but he was certain her current state was the direct result of his provocation the previous night.

In fact, though Kazuki didn't realize it, the root cause of her distress was the shock of the rumors claiming Harold had murdered Clara and her daughter. From start to finish, Kazuki was the catalyst. Had he known the full extent of it, his conscience would likely have buckled. He was not a sociopath who found joy in the suffering of a ten-year-old.

Between the crisis in her own territory, her family’s exhaustion, and the sudden political engagement forced upon her, Erika was already under immense pressure. To then find out her fiancé was a "scumbag" who murdered commoners without a second thought... the stress must have been staggering.

Considering her circumstances, Kazuki felt that a few slaps were a small price to pay. He just wished his Hate Value would stay at its absolute minimum.

"That’s a pity. Since you’re capable of synthesizing medicine, I assumed you’d be quite knowledgeable about such things."

Yuno was probing him. She still hadn't identified the source of his medicine, and it was a major point of concern for her investigation. Kazuki, oblivious to her intent, merely wondered if he had accidentally gained a reputation for medical expertise.

"If you're so worried, have a personal physician look at her. Keeping her here will only prolong the inevitable."

A house as prominent as the Sumeragi surely had a few dedicated doctors. If they were that anxious, they could have just tucked her away in a villa with medical staff. The fact that they were lingering suggested they had another objective—though Kazuki still couldn't fathom what it was.

Yuno’s mission was twofold: investigate the internal affairs of House Stokes and uncover Harold's true nature. The former was easy; the Stokes family was so loathed that the servants were practically bursting with gossip. A sympathetic ear was all she needed to gather information.

The latter, however, was proving difficult. Harold's personal security was airtight. Between his natural wariness and his high Presence Detection, she couldn't get near him. He had even sniffed her out and issued a warning on her very first day—the First Action.

She had been forced to pivot to his inner circle. She had tried contacting the three servants who frequently gathered around him, but they were expertly evasive. Zen, the most soft-hearted of the bunch, had almost slipped up once, but she still lacked any concrete evidence.

Yuno felt that their information control was incredibly thorough, especially for people who were supposed to be casual servants. She couldn't tell if it was out of genuine loyalty or sheer intimidation, leaving her at a stalemate.

(The reports from the Internal Investigation Unit say he goes to the agricultural district often, but...)

She was coordinating with agents embedded in the surrounding area, but they hadn't cracked the mystery of his activities there. The tight-knit farming communities were hard to infiltrate. It was the kind of long-term operation they hadn't prepared for. It had been a rare tactical error on Lord Tasuku's part, concentrating his forces in the high-population Central District instead of the rural outskirts.

After a few more brief exchanges, Kazuki resumed his march. There were three places to eat in the mansion: the private Dining Room, the Great Hall for guests, and the servants' cafeteria. Kazuki headed for the first.

He threw the door open without knocking. It was past two in the afternoon, so his parents were absent. A young maid was in the middle of changing the tablecloth. She jumped, her face pale with panic at the sudden appearance of the young master.

(Frozen by fear. Typical.)

By now, Kazuki was used to this. Everyone who knew Harold’s face reacted this way, regardless of age or gender. He didn't even feel the sting of it anymore; he simply observed her reaction with detached calm.

To put her at ease, he took a seat far away from her work.

"When you're finished with that, tell the kitchen to prepare a light meal. Then call Norman here. Don't dawdle."

"Y-Yes, sir!"

The girl finished the cloth with trembling hands and practically fled the room. The sound of her hurried footsteps faded down the hall.

His meal arrived in less than ten minutes. Norman appeared just as he was finishing his last few bites.

"My apologies for the delay, Lord Harold."

"Sit."

Kazuki shoved the last of his bread into his mouth and washed it down with soup. It was poor manners, but with only Norman and the maid present, he didn't care. Once the table was cleared and they were alone, Norman spoke.

"You slept late today. Is the exhaustion catching up with you?"

"It's fine. I just had trouble sleeping."

"I see."

"It gave me plenty of time to think, though."

Kazuki (as Harold) let a sharp smirk cross his face. Norman instantly understood.

"About the labor shortage, then?"

"Yes. We discussed bringing in external collaborators, didn't we?"

"Do you have a plan?"

"I called you here to see if it's viable."

Kazuki hadn't intended to pull an all-nighter, but once he started thinking, he couldn't stop. He had come up with a proposal, but he was an amateur in this world; he needed Norman and Jake to vet it.

"Regarding the external partners... is it possible to demonstrate the profitability of the LP Farming Method to a merchant and secure a contract based on the rights to that technology?"

Even with his limited knowledge of commerce, Kazuki knew that high-yield, fast-cycle crops were a goldmine. The production efficiency would far outweigh the initial costs. It would allow for market differentiation and potentially open up entirely new trade routes.

His ideal model involved selling the technology to a large merchant guild. The guild would then sub-license the method to farmers. The farmers would pay a fee to the guild, which would then be split between the merchant and Harold.

However, since they currently needed to keep production volume low to avoid detection, they needed a merchant association large enough to handle the auditing of the farmers.

Norman listened, impressed by the depth of the plan, but raised a practical concern.

"And do you have a specific merchant in mind?"

"No. That’s why I’m asking for your and Jake’s input."

"Without a prior connection, a major guild is unlikely to take us seriously. And a smaller, independent merchant wouldn't have the manpower to handle the oversight we require..."

Harold's parents had connections, but using them would mean revealing the LP Farming Method to them—something Kazuki wasn't ready to do.

"So there's no way to implement it yet?"

"Unfortunately, no. But the strategy of bringing a merchant into the fold is sound."

"Then keep working on the details. Relay the plan to Jake as well."

"As you wish. The primary hurdle remains finding a trustworthy merchant we can actually reach."

They went back and forth for a while, but eventually, the conversation reached a dead end.

---

A carriage clattered through the gates of the Stokes mansion, its wheels following the well-worn ruts in the road. The driver, trading jokes with the gate guards, was none other than Zen.

After unloading the supplies he’d bought in town and stowing the carriage, Zen headed straight for Harold’s room. If Kazuki had seen him, he would have called him a "loyal dog" or something equally biting, but Zen wouldn't have cared. He reached the door and knocked—a new rule Harold had been very strict about lately—but received no answer.

"Lord Harold? Are you in there?"

A normal servant would have left, but Zen's level of familiarity with Harold was unparalleled. He cracked the door and peeked inside, only to find the room empty.

Probably training his sword again, Zen thought. He was about to turn back when he spotted a small figure standing further down the hallway.

The girl looked so profoundly dejected that Zen couldn't bring himself to walk away. He forced a bright, cheerful tone.

"Good afternoon, Lady Erika."

Erika turned slowly, her eyes widening slightly as if only just noticing him.

"Good day. You are..."

"Oh, I'm Zen. Where’s Yuno-san?"

It was rare to see Erika without her shadow. Zen wondered if they’d had a spat, but he couldn't have been more wrong.

"She is away in the city on private business."

In truth, she was meeting with other investigators, having left only moments ago. She wouldn't be back for hours.

"I see. Are you here for... Lord Harold, perhaps?"

It was a logical assumption, given she was standing near his door. But at the mention of Harold's name, Erika's face grew even darker. He was the last person she wanted to think about.

And yet, she realized that this man—Zen—didn't seem to hold any of the usual fear or hatred for Harold.

Does he not know? she wondered. The question left her lips before she could stop it.

"Do you not know the truth?"

"Umm... about what?"

"About Lord Harold murdering a servant with magic."

"T-That... well, you see..."

It was Zen's turn to be flustered. His reaction confirmed to Erika that he knew the rumors. But that only birthed a new question: How could he still serve Harold so cheerfully? She had assumed his loyalty was a facade, but his hesitation didn't suggest fear or disgust—it suggested a man who wanted to defend his master but lacked the words to do so.

"I mean, I've heard the whispers, but... it's hard to know what's true and what isn't. It doesn't feel right to judge Lord Harold based on rumors when the truth is so murky..."

"Lord Harold confirmed it himself. And the victim was a servant of this very house. Surely you must know it happened?"

"Ugh..."

Erika had him cornered. Zen’s clumsy defense crumbled. He wasn't a man of silver words or grand rhetoric. Norman had recruited him because he was a "good person"—someone who could see the heart beneath Harold’s thorny exterior.

But that goodness extended to everyone. And seeing Erika so utterly broken stirred his protective instincts.

"Then why? How... how can you possibly admire him?"

Her voice was heavy, more of a plea than a question. Regardless of Harold's character, she had to marry him for the sake of the Sumeragi. Her own feelings were a hindrance she needed to crush.

She understood that intellectually, but the conflict between duty and emotion was tearing her apart. She had accepted that she would never have a marriage of love. She had been furious when she learned of the Stokes' cruelty. And yet, Harold had been the one to give her family hope—only for her to realize he was a man who saw commoners as sub-human.

She had built him up and let herself be disappointed. She knew that. But the realization that the light at the end of the tunnel was a lie had been enough to shatter her.

Zen watched her struggle. He knew that the "scum" she saw was a mask—a phantom built of lies. He knew that the world Harold was building for her was a kind one. After all, a man who would take the stain of "murderer" upon himself just to save two lives wasn't the kind of man who would ever truly abandon her.

He saw in her the same strength and kindness he saw in Harold—two young people crushing their own hearts for the sake of their people. They were both carrying burdens far too heavy for their years, walking a path where they would only ever hit walls.

They weren't supposed to be enemies. They were two of a kind. They were perhaps the only two people in the world who could truly understand each other—if only they could show their true selves.

"Lady Erika... would you come with me?"

Zen made his decision. Even if he was just an unreliable adult, even if he earned Harold’s wrath or was cast out of the mansion, he had to help her.

"Please, give me just a little of your time. There’s something I need to tell you."

---

Author's Note: The sense of loss when you accidentally delete your draft data is soul-crushing. Anyway, the plan is for all the misunderstandings about Harold to be resolved in the next chapter. I’d actually already written about half of that, too...