The walls of the governor’s manor were painted a beautiful shade of white that was almost blinding to look at in the summertime light of early afternoon. The head carpenter, who was putting the finishing touches on the manor’s exterior, was clearly proud of what had been accomplished. With that said, the interior fell quite a bit short of what would be expected of a noble’s manor. The carpenters, working off of what they had observed from architecture in Bordeaux, had applied all of their skills to the endeavor. Even so, they had only ever built houses in the countryside, and the finer details were a bit beyond them.
However, Seren hailed from House Bordeaux, which maintained a close relationship with the common folk, and she didn’t seem the least bit bothered by it. If anybody, it was her maids and servants who complained of what was lacking hither or what would make it difficult to work thither. Seren had traveled back and forth between Turnera and Bordeaux several times by now, transporting documents and tools to the new manor with each trip. These trips had been fretful at first, but now she was taking it all in stride and steadily finishing up the preparations to settle in Turnera as the chief’s aide. Although she was only his aide, the actual chief, Hoffman, seemed more than willing to retire and hand over his position.
Seren filed away a bundle of documents into her bookshelf, then turned to her guest. “Phew... That should do it.”
“Is that the last one?” Belgrieve asked.
Seren smiled. “Yes, thankfully... It took a long time to pick and choose what I’d take with me.”
“This is quite a lot smaller than your mansion in Bordeaux, after all...”
“Oh no, I was actually sorting through all sorts of documents I thought might be useful for my work here... Luckily, the reference room was untouched in that incident.”
Is that so? Belgrieve stroked his chin. It seemed that Seren had been assessing the state of things in Turnera, then going back to Bordeaux to look for any relevant documents—hence all the return trips. She explained how she’d gone through all of the old records from the oldest to latest, so it must have taken quite a bit of time. He had heard that Seren had a talent for bureaucratic affairs, perhaps owing to her earnest, hardworking nature.
A heavy woolen rug had been laid over the polished wooden floor of the office. The room was furnished with a shelf, an office desk, and a table with chairs to receive visitors. It wasn’t fancy, but it was practical.
“I believe people are talking about me becoming the next chief,” Seren said after sitting down.
“Yes, so I’ve heard.”
“But there’s no guarantee that I’ll remain in Turnera for the foreseeable future, sorry as I am to say it.”
Naturally... Belgrieve nodded. It would be unwise to keep someone of Seren’s talents holed up in this remote village forever. Once the dungeon—and everything else—had taken shape, she would probably be sent off to a bigger town or married into the household of a prominent noble family.
Seren folded her hands over the table. “Furthermore, I think that the chief ought to be someone from the village. I may be the sister of the countess, but I am still an outsider—I have not committed Turnera’s traditions and the seasonal work to memory, as Mr. Hoffman has.”
“I see.”
“So I think it will all go smoother if I remain a temporary governor dispatched from Bordeaux. Of course, I plan to do my share of work as the chief’s aide as well.”
“Certainly... That may be for the best. That would make it easier for you to operate. I assume you’ll be traveling between Bordeaux and Turnera too often to do the chief’s job.”
“Yes. However, it seems like Mr. Hoffman is intent on passing his title to me...”
“Ha ha! He can be strangely earnest himself... I’ll put in a word from my end. As long as we give a good explanation, I think he’ll understand.”
“That’s good to know...” Seren closed her eyes, relieved. She had talent to be sure, but she was still a girl who’d only ever worked under her elder sister’s guidance. Unconsciously, she yearned for someone she could rely on.
Seren sampled the tea a maid had brought in and smiled. “Hee hee... I’m glad I decided to discuss this with you, Sir Belgrieve.”
“I might not be the most knowledgeable, but feel free to consult with me anytime.”
“Thank you. Back home, I often consult with Ashe, but I can’t quite bring him out here...”
“Is Sir Ashcroft doing well?”
“Yes. Sash has lately been dragging him out with her to hunt fiends. He’s growing stronger.”
They chatted for a bit longer before Belgrieve took his leave. From time to time, Seren would consult with him on various matters. Helvetica apparently planned on stationing some soldiers in Turnera, so they would need to consider the construction of barracks as well. When they inevitably had an influx of travelers, they would naturally bring with them public safety issues. Some measure of deterrence would become necessary.
Belgrieve walked home, arms folded thoughtfully. So many things were happening, and he felt like he was being pushed along by the flow of events. It was interesting to see everything begin to take shape, but that brought with it a certain anxiety as well. Not that there was anything he could do about it at this point other than to keep thinking about it every step of the way—there was no stopping now.
When he reached the square, he found Kasim, who was teaching magic to a few of the younger villagers.
“Hey, don’t be impatient. If you don’t concentrate enough, your mana’s going to disperse.”
His students each attempted to concentrate in their own way, some of them keeping their eyes shut, while others stared fixedly at a single point. The ones with a knack for it were surrounded by swirling mana that caused their clothing to billow as though caught in a strong breeze.
Kasim turned to face Belgrieve when he drew near. “Oh, are you done helping Seren?”
“Yeah. Looks like you’re making progress here.”
“Heh heh heh... They’re pretty enthusiastic about it. But it’s about time to wrap up. If I keep them too long, their folks aren’t gonna be happy.”
Belgrieve chuckled and nodded. The height of summer had passed, and fall was on the horizon; the leaves on the trees had gradually begun to change colors, and the village was busily preparing for winter. With the dungeon soon to come, there was nothing wrong with training to fight, but there was no point doing that if it came at the cost of preparing sufficient provisions for winter.
Kasim clapped his hands. “All right—class dismissed! I taught you the basics, so figure the rest out on your own. Once you’ve mastered working with your mana, I can teach you some harder spells.”
His young students cheered before enthusiastically returning home to work.
Belgrieve kneaded his beard. “Do you think they’re ready to fight?”
“Not all of them, no. But once they get a bit of experience, I can see a bunch of them reaching the higher ranks.” Kasim chuckled. “Perhaps that’s thanks to the Red Ogre’s teachings?”