With the corrupt lord’s pathetic flight, the conflict over the village finally reached its conclusion. It was a smooth resolution—one where no blood had been shed.
"...Well, not entirely."
Because, of course, things weren't that simple. High society was not nearly lenient enough to let a stunt like that slide without consequences.
In the aftermath, Duke Crocus’s house issued a formal reprimand to the corrupt lord. It was accompanied by joint protests from both the Marquis Rosemary and Count Clover families. Being censured by a high noble from the capital—plus another rising house—for his administrative failures and lack of decorum, and then being interrogated for his threats against Rest and his family... well, it was said the man turned white as a sheet before collapsing on the spot.
The man in question, Baron Habirou, was a minor lord who ruled over only three small villages. He had made a fatal error in judgment. Had he simply prostrated himself in apology the moment he realized Rest was a Count, the matter likely wouldn't have escalated to this degree. While his illegal exploitation of the peasantry was certainly a crime, the unfortunate reality of this feudal world was that countless other lords were doing the exact same thing. Since there would be no end to the purge if every minor official were punished, most were simply overlooked.
"The real problem isn't that he was squeezing the villagers; it's the way he talked to me," Rest mused.
A Baron snapping at a Count was a serious breach of protocol. In noble society, rank was everything—a hierarchy dictated by the King himself. To defy that order was tantamount to rebelling against the Crown. Perhaps if the man had possessed overwhelming economic or military might, he might have gotten away with snubbing a superior, but a minor provincial lord had no such luxury.
As a penalty for his blunder, the fishing village was officially ceded to House Clover. Furthermore, the head of the Baron Habirou House was forced to step down. He wasn't even allowed to pass the title to his son; instead, it was decided that a male relative from a distant branch of the family would succeed him. That the house wasn't dissolved entirely was an act of mercy, granted only because Rest hadn't initially declared his status.
There was no chaos in the village following the sudden change in leadership. While the Baron had held the title, the true power in that region had always been the great landowner, Madam Sanada. Even with Rest—who had inherited the rights from Third Prince Rodel through the late Madam Sanada—officially taking over, little changed for the locals in terms of daily life.
If anything, they were overjoyed. Having the man they worshipped like a god as their official lord was cause for celebration, and the village dissolved into a multi-day festival of cheers and shouting.
"So, a lot happened, but it all worked out in the end. The village is self-sufficient as long as there aren't any monster attacks, so I won't have much to do as the lord anyway."
Back in the capital, Rest finished his tale. His fiancées, Viola and Primula Rosemary, listened with solemn expressions, nodding along.
"I see, Rest," Viola said. "But... that isn't the part you need to be explaining, is it?"
"Rest-san, please do not try to deceive us," Primula added.
"Uh... I-I'm not sure what you mean?"
"Oh, you know exactly what we mean."
The two of them closed in, cornering him from both sides.
"It’s about you getting into a hot spring with Celestine!" they declared in unison.
"Guh..."
"Explain yourself right now!"
Faced with a dual interrogation from the identical twins, Rest felt a cold sweat break out across his back. He was well and truly trapped.