At the camp serving as the base for the pioneer group, Rest came face-to-face with his biological father once again.
(No way... Of all the places to run into this man...)
Confronted by the Court Mage, Lucas Ebern, Rest’s brow furrowed in a deep, instinctive grimace.
The last time they had seen each other was just before the start of the Academy year. It was when Rest had visited for a final farewell after his matrilocal marriage into the Marquis Rosemary House had been finalized.
The Ebern house was an honorary viscount family—little more than pseudo-nobility—which meant they would collapse and be reduced to commoner status if the son failed to secure a government post. Because his beloved son Cedric had failed to gain admission to the Academy, Lucas had tried to pressure Rest into staying... but the memory of how coldly Rest had dismissed the man was still fresh.
(So he’s still breathing... I suppose since I didn’t actually kill him, it’s only natural.)
"L-Long time no see... I mean, it has been quite a while, hasn't it?" Lucas stammered, his head bowing low in an awkward gesture.
His face was ashen, and his white, trembling lips made him look far more haggard than Rest remembered. The fate of his son had likely taken a significant toll on his health.
(I can’t really blame him. The illegitimate child he treated with such disdain has vaulted over him and achieved massive success.)
Lucas likely knew Rest was now a Count. His expression was one of pure, unadulterated terror, as if he were constantly checking for a knife at his throat. In truth, Lucas was in a position where anything Rest chose to do to him would be considered justified.
During his years at the Ebern estate, Rest had endured daily abuse. Despite being the master’s son, he had been forced to live in the stables and fed nothing but scraps. Had it not been for the kindness of a few servants who secretly shared their food, he likely would have died of malnutrition.
He’d been forced to work like a slave for no pay, but the worst of it was the treatment from Cedric. Used as a literal target for magic practice, Rest had suffered injuries that would have killed a normal child dozens of times over.
(In hindsight... I really am lucky for my reincarnation abilities. Without something like Healing Magic, I’d be in a grave right now... And I completely forgot. I still have debts to repay.)
Belatedly, it all came back to him. Between moving into the Marquis Rosemary House and everything that had followed, he’d lost track of the promise he’d made to himself—that he would eventually reward the servants of the Ebern house.
They had shared their food and smuggled him wound medicine when he was at his lowest. Even his mother, Shifon—who had been coerced and impregnated by Lucas—had been looked after by them during her tenure as a maid.
(Right... for now, maybe I’ll just hand out a hundred gold coins to each of them. If the Ebern house collapses, I’ll make sure they have jobs in my territory.)
A hundred gold coins was an extravagant reward, but he felt it was a fair price for his life. A few coins might have sufficed, but to someone starving, bread is worth its weight in gold. Besides, he had more money than he knew what to do with. He might as well spend it like water.
(If I hadn't run into this man, I might have forgotten my gratitude entirely. I thought this reunion was a curse, but it’s actually proven quite useful.)
"W-Well... Count Clover, I trust you are in excellent spirits... As for today, I intend to put forth every ounce of my—"
While Rest was lost in his own thoughts, Lucas rambled on, rubbing his hands together with a sycophantic, fawning smile. He was clearly desperate to curry favor with Rest—who was now a Count and the future son-in-law of the head of the Court Mages—but since Rest wasn't paying attention, the effort was entirely wasted.
"A-As for that, regarding our humble Honorary Viscount House—"
"How long are you going to keep blathering! You're in the way, move!"
"Gah!"
A wooden staff cracked against Lucas’s skull. Two figures had approached from behind him without him realizing.
"Ah, Count Clover. Is the reunion over yet?"
"His Highness Andrew..."
It was Andrew Aiwood. He raised a hand in a casual greeting, a friendly smile on his face.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. The briefing ran longer than expected."
"It’s not a problem, but... who is the lady with you?"
"Aha! So you're the one Albert took in! You’ve got a cunning look about you, just like that old man!"
The woman with Andrew was a crone with a severely bent back. She was as thin as a withered branch, her face a map of deep wrinkles. She wore a robe that made her look like a fortune teller and clutched an oak staff in her right hand—the same one she had used to clobber Lucas.
"This is Guru Jarana Maitis," Andrew introduced. "She’s a Court Mage and the kingdom’s leading expert in Barrier Arts."
"I'll allow you to call me 'Guru' as a sign of respect," the old woman, Maitis, declared haughtily. "You’d best show me the proper reverence!"