CH 32

“Starting today, I will go down to that same square again and distribute these buried old hags, properly showcasing them to the people.” This was an effective method implemented by the king in the past timeline. Luisen planned to co-opt that proven procedure.

“In addition to the records, if the duke himself goes out….”

“My lord, you will have to go to the village many times. Will that be okay? Our lord’s safety is paramount.”

“I visited yesterday, and it seemed fine,” Luisen said.

“This is a plan worth trying, my lord. I think the citizens will understand. Moreover, the situation calls for extreme measures.”

“Of course. Of course.” When the old hags were recognized as edible foodstuffs, the advisors quickly plotted measures to spread the information.

‘As expected, the duchy’s vassals are competent.’ Luisen liked it when he only had to open the irrigation waterway and the water would flow on its own. Emboldened by success, he smiled at the general.

‘With polish, Luisen is also one of the great dukes of this land. He won’t lose to his predecessors,’ the general thought. Though Luisen modestly pushed all of his achievements to the ancestors’ wisdom, the general did not fail to notice the young lord’s own efforts. If Luisen had been the same brat as before, no matter how trustworthy the ancestral records were, the advisors would not have deigned to listen to him.

Since Luisen had tried to stand firm against Carlton, predicted the locusts, and taken responsibility for his land’s citizens, the advisors now had positive evaluations of the lord’s plans. Faith was slowly piling upon him.

‘Since when did I become so proud?’ The general was surprised by the innovative crop but even more so by the fact that Luisen had worked all night and day. The general smiled sincerely and raised a small thumbs up underneath the table.

At the end of the meal, Luisen ordered some servants to harvest more buried old hags. While his order was being executed, he had some free time, so Luisen took Ruger to the greens in front of the castle.

Servants were busily coming and going; there wasn’t much they could do to help. However, Luisen found a sack of flour that had yet to be loaded into the cart.

“Let’s carry this together.”

At Luisen’s suggestion, Ruger’s face cycled through many different colors.”Ah, my duke. Let’s just go to your room. Why should we move this? Leave it to the servants.”

“So noisy. We should at least do something. Hurry and grab the other side.”

“But, why are we even bothering…?” Ruger grumbled but lifted the other corners of the flour sack. Luisen also rolled his sleeves up and lifted his corners as well.

At that moment, the butler rushed in from somewhere. “Oh my! My lord! Let your servants deal with this kind of manual labor.”

“I can at least do this much,” Luisen refused.

“Absolutely not! You’ll get hurt like that! Ruger, you lout! How could you let the lord partake in menial work like this…You’re his chief attendant!” the butler roared at Ruger. His voice was a far cry from the gentle, spring-breeze-like voice he used with Luisen.

Ruger looked chagrined–wrongfully accused. “I’m carrying this because the duke ordered me to.”

“Even still! You should have convinced him! Please, rest here my duke. Let me take this lout back for proper training.” The butler had already disapproved of Ruger, as he had been hired from outside the duchy. He dragged the attendant away as if he needed nothing more than an excuse.

Luisen, left alone, tried to drag the bag of flour all by himself. However, soon the servants rushed over and took it away, forcing him to go someplace else.

Luisen wandered around the castle. He had tried to sneakily insert himself into some work, but they all sent Luisen back to rest and did not allow him to handle anything exhausting. After attempting to hold an axe to chop firewood, amidst the panicked dissuasions from his servants, Luisen had given up. He trudged into a peaceful corner of the castle and leaned back against the wall.

‘Ah. This feeling. It’s been a long time.’

Everyone had been treating him like a droplet of dew–afraid that he may pop as soon as something jostled him.

Almost as if they’d readily breathe for him to spare his lungs the work.

It was an all too familiar overprotectiveness.

Luisen became nostalgic: this was how he was treated originally. He had taken for granted how he had been raised so preciously. Back then, he couldn’t understand the nervous hearts of the advisors that watched over the only heir to the duchy.

But…He wouldn’t get hurt just from carrying a small sack of flour! Plus, he’d gotten so good at chopping firewood!

If Luisen was truly weak and frail, he could not have enjoyed his scum life in the capital. Spending, drinking, and partying every day was not possible for those without healthy bodies.

During his nomadic era, he farmed, shadowed woodcutters while felling trees, and tried all sorts of manual hardships. After sleeping on the streets in the cold, he realized, ‘I’m just clumsy! I’m not weak at all!’

Being weak and being unable to take advantage of one’s body are two different problems. Because everyone had treated him so fragilely, Luisen really thought he was frail!

‘I appreciate their care….but it’s weird to treat me as if I’m going to break at this age…isn’t it?’ Luisen wasn’t a six-year-old child anymore. How long into his adult age would he continue to be pampered like this?

If others saw his predicament, Luisen would be filled with shame.

By the time Luisen wrapped his head around his indignancy and cooled down, he noticed a strong gaze piercing the back of his head. Turning around casually, he noticed Carlton standing by the window.

He looked disapprovingly at Luisen with his arms crossed.

“S-Sir Carlton! How long have you been standing there?”

“Since you lost your axe to your servants.”

‘Then you’ve seen that embarrassing interaction?’ Luisen’s face flushed red. To a perfectly self-made man like Carlton, he worried he would look like a child.

“Isn’t that too rude?” Carlton asked. “The duke’s trying to help his people, and they won’t let him chop firewood–drove him out, in fact.”

“That’s because…I’m the duchy’s sole heir….”

‘Of course he doesn’t understand! I just look like a fool! It’s not my fault the others are so overprotective, but why am I feeling so shameful?’ Luisen mumbled as he tried to justify the actions to himself.

The young lord couldn’t have imagined what sort of misunderstanding those words caused within Carlton or that Carlton would interpret his words in his own special way.

‘The duchy’s sole heir…Since no one was around to protect him, he’s been treated like a fool and an invalid.’ Carlton had been watching Luisen for longer than he had stated. He saw Luisen wandering around the castle, being rejected here and there.

Luisen was neither a child nor a sick man. He was a grown, able-bodied man. An adult has the agency to do whatever he or she wants according to his or her own will–whether that is to be a fool or a productive human being. What’s the use of driving out a man who was already helping to chop firewood so well? Carlton could only see that the others seemed to ignore Luisen’s agency. If anyone did that to the mercenary, they would suffer at his fists.

As he watched, he noticed how the duchy treated Luisen as a fool who couldn’t do anything. And it was clear Luisen was used to such treatment. Last night’s doubts grew larger and larger.

When Luisen grew up, power was naturally brought back to him by birthright. There was only one option for those who did not want to be deprived of that power: prevent Luisen from being a proper lord even as an adult. They may have deliberately left him uneducated and alienated him from the duchy’s responsibilities. Perhaps, as Luisen grew older, he may have been forcefully driven to the capital.

Luisen would then go to the capital and meet his maternal relatives: the queen and the second prince. They probably had been friendly in order to make use of Luisen, and Luisen, who had grown neglected and lonely, would not have rejected their affections.

Considering that context, Carlton understood why Luisen poured everything he had into the second prince and supported him. He may not have cared about sending his land to war when they were the only people he could rely on.

Then, when he returned to his estate, Luisen may have tried to reign in his vassals and recollect his authority. However, the retainers would not have acquiesced to such demands. They would have objected to Luisen’s opinions to suppress him, hindering his every move.

‘…Perhaps, that’s why he risked his life to come alone and surrender at the enemy camp.’

Because Luisen tried to enforce his will and get out from under their thumb, the retainers had gone on strike. When Luisen did better than expected, especially in the face of a major crisis, they were forced to end their strike early.

‘Yeah. If you look at it this way, it all starts to make sense.’

Luisen’s extreme actions, his disregard for his dignity, the way he tried to solve everything without the advisors’ help…These contradictions inherent in his character and actions.

When Carlton seriously considered the hypothesis that he grew up neglected and abused, all the questions were solved. It was as if he pulled at a string to the puzzle, and everything unraveled.

Carlton looked down at Luisen–his eyes were red, as if he were about to cry.

‘Haah…No wonder. I knew everything felt off.’

Carlton was completely sure. There was a painful past behind what seemed to be a perfect and aristocratic nobleman.

The mercenary felt something stab at his heart. He didn’t know the other’s circumstances and treated him like any other trash noble, those who were adored by their parents and breathed pride as if they thrived on it instead of air.

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“Has everything worked out the way you desired?” Carlton asked with interest. His tone was friendlier than it had ever been.

TL: The what pad fic continues……lmao