The Viche territory, blessed with broad and fertile land, had long been prosperous in agriculture, and, as a result, frequently invaded. From neighboring hostile territories to starving mountain beasts that raided homes in winter, trouble was constant.
This winter in particular, they were plagued by a group of barbarians known as the ‘Rakan Tribe’. These savages, having crossed the border in the summer, were vicious and brutal. They had driven the monsters out of Mount Basque and settled there, launching frequent attacks on nearby villages.
They didn’t hesitate to use violence while plundering grain. They controlled beasts known as ‘Rakan’, giant wolf-like monsters standing three meters tall, with 96 fangs, known to bite off human heads whole. These were among the highest-ranking beasts.
The Viche territory had no means to stop them. So, to survive, they had offered food and meat in an uneasy truce, feeding the barbarians to stave off conflict. But even that unequal peace was short-lived. The Rakan Tribe, emboldened by Viche’s compliance, settled directly at the foot of the mountains, sending a clear message: even after the hunting season began, they expected their bellies to be filled by Viche.
This was the grim reality of Viche territory, now known across the North.
Although the barbarians weren’t many in number, the real threat lay in the fact that nearly every one of them commanded a Rakan. Unable to tolerate such one-sided co-existence, the Viscount of Viche remembered someone he had used like a dog during past invasions, Zester Greze.
‘The stray dog’s finally got a leash, huh?’
Waiting eagerly for Zester’s deployment, the Viscount clucked his tongue as he reread the letter that had just arrived at his castle.
His plump jaw twitched beneath his bushy brown beard in displeasure.
| To the Honorable Viscount Viche,
Warm greetings. I am the Baroness of Greze. Please forgive the impersonal nature of this letter. I write to address the urgent matter of your recent request for military support. I’ve heard of the frequent barbarian raids beneath Mount Basque. They are said to control monstrous beasts. It must be an immensely distressing situation for your people, and I share in your concern. My husband, Baron Greze, and I both wish to assist your territory to the best of our ability. However, I must bring up one matter regarding the reward listed in the support contract. I’m sure this is an oversight, given the longstanding friendship you’ve shared with my husband. As you are well aware, subjugating the barbarian foothold will require considerable manpower and poses serious danger. The offered advance of 500,000 silver is insufficient even to hire mercenaries. Knowing of your fair and generous character, I trust that this was not intentional. Please review the terms once more. Given your friendship with our territory, I am confident you will regard Greze and the Baron kindly in this matter. Wishing prosperity to your lands, From Greze. |
The Viscount had, of course, heard that Greze had a new lady. How could he not? Gossip about the unfortunate noblewoman sold off like goods to a backwater territory had been spreading like wildfire.
Still, he had thought it irrelevant, until now. He ground his teeth as he tossed the letter onto his desk.
“That damned fox of a woman. Now we’re the ones losing out.”
“Master, even from a moral standpoint, that 500,000 was… well below the line. If even a lady who’s never met you is compelled to write—.”
“What?!”
The butler flinched, startled by the Viscount’s roar.
“I’m already seething! Don’t make it worse, you fool! Who spends a fortune to leash a stray dog?”
“But still…”
Zester was the perfect dog to exploit. An uneducated commoner, easy to dazzle with a few coins. The Viscount still remembered the wide-eyed wonder Zester had shown when they first struck a deal.
Even as he matured and grew more aware of money’s worth, nothing changed. Zester, grateful for the support given during hard times, never once questioned the exploitative terms and always gathered troops without complaint.
But this time, why…
“Knowing that dog, he wouldn’t have whispered a word to his wife. This must be that little girl, trying to play lady of the house the moment she arrived…”
“Well, I would say managing internal affairs is part of her role—.”
“Shut it! Whose side are you on? Theirs?”
“N-No, of course not, Master…”
The butler nervously dabbed sweat from his brow with a handkerchief pulled from his vest.
“This is such a pain.”
Had she been just another clueless young noblewoman dabbling in management, he wouldn’t have worried. But that letter, she was cunning. Not overly emotional, not rude, just subtle. Masking a jab with flattery, indirectly accusing him of an error.
Worse, she buttered him up, calling him ‘generous’ and ‘fair’, implying that if he didn’t revise the pay, he’d be proving her wrong.
“A fox, that one…”
Now the dog had a handler, and the Viscount was not pleased.
Still, was he to give up his conveniently obedient hound just like that?
“No, no…”
Compared to other lands, his territory lacked military strength. While he knew he ought to invest more in defense, he had long relied on Greze’s cheap support. Losing that backing now would be costly.
Resting his chin on one hand, the Viscount schemed, a wicked grin forming.
“She’s just a girl. A face-to-face talk and she’ll back down. No matter how clever she acts in writing, she can’t be that smart. If she keeps interfering, things will get annoying. Better to nip it in the bud early.”
“M-Master, forgive me for saying so, but maybe it’s best to avoid… certain language when dealing with a noblewoman. It might slip out—.”
“What the hell is wrong with you today?! Keep your mouth shut!”
The Viscount bellowed, cheeks puffed in irritation, while the butler silently grimaced.
Grabbing parchment, the Viscount scribbled a short reply.
‘A mere woman meddling where she shouldn’t. Just because there’s a leash doesn’t mean the dog has a new master. I’ll make that clear.’
The second negotiation had begun. The reply arrived in Greze territory two days later.
***
“Hm…”
Cassia drummed her fingers rhythmically on the table, deep in thought.
Beside her, Paul sighed heavily. Cassia had handed him the Viscount’s reply to read, and it was just as they had feared: the old snake planned to persuade her face-to-face.
| Dear Baroness of Greze,
I’d heard of your arrival to the territory, and regret not offering my greetings sooner. I’m sure adjusting to a place so different from your home has been difficult. I sincerely hope you’re settling in well. That said, I wonder if the Baron is displeased by your involvement in military affairs. Of course, I respect your intent to manage internal matters wisely. I hope to continue a long-standing relationship with Baron Greze. Shall we have a proper discussion? I’d like to offer a small gift to Greze’s new lady, please visit our territory for a meal and a meaningful talk. There’s no need for tedious negotiation; I intend to reflect the Baron couple’s opinions in full. I only ask that you bring your troops when visiting. Viscount Viche |
At a glance, it sounded agreeable, no need for negotiation, he’d honor their terms.
But Cassia knew better. The Viscount’s history of exploitation meant this was no peace offering. He simply wanted to manipulate her in person. She exhaled slowly.
She wanted to call off the deal altogether, but she didn’t have that power. Even if she told Zester not to go because the reward was too low, would he listen?
“What do you plan to do, Madam? Personally visiting him may not be wise. I might be overthinking, but the Viscount is rather sly, and he might…”
“No, you’re not overthinking. Of course he’s trying to sweet-talk me face-to-face. Do you think I don’t know?”
“Ah, I see…”
Cassia understood Paul’s concern. Had she still been the real 17-year-old Cassia from ten years ago, she might’ve gone and come back empty-handed, thoroughly manipulated.
But now she was 27, battle-hardened. Just from the wording in the letter, she could tell how much the Viscount looked down on young women.
‘He doesn’t even understand the basics of fair trade. A cheap old thug.’
Recalling his snake-like words, Cassia smirked. Anyone who picked a fight should be answered in kind, especially if that someone was someone like Viscount Viche.
“I’ll send a letter saying I’ll gladly visit. Inform the Baron that I’ve been invited and plan to travel with the troops.”
***
“No!”
“…Why not?”
Paul blinked in confusion. Zester had flatly rejected Cassia’s plan to accompany the expedition without even hearing her reasoning.
Could it be he didn’t want to risk offending the Viscount over the payment?
‘If so, that is foolish’, Paul thought bitterly, pursing his lips.
He was about to speak when Zester’s worried voice caught him off guard.
“She wants to visit a barbarian-infested territory? Absolutely not.”
“…Master.”
“What.”
“W-Well, someone might think the barbarians have already stormed the castle. But the territory is massive, and the Viscount’s castle is on the opposite end of Mount Basque. It’s practically the same distance from us as from them.”
Zester’s overprotectiveness seemed completely out of place. The damage was confined to a few villages near the barbarians’ base. The Viscount’s castle was far away.
It was touching, in a way. Seeing Zester, once indifferent being so protective. Who knew a person could change this much?
Paul smiled faintly.
“Well, you should speak with the lady directly. She’s quite set on accepting the Viscount’s invitation.”
“She looks like she’d faint just seeing one of those beasts. I just… I can’t let her go. No way…”
Paul nearly laughed. From what he’d seen of Cassia’s resolve, she was far from fainthearted. But Zester’s fretful pacing said otherwise.
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