An extra or not, Regis found it terribly unsettling he had become even a fraction of what drove this man to fight. Whatever the case, the margrave kept his guard high, had a strong will to fight, and was confident of victory. What’s more, Regis could sense he had his own aspirations, too.
He tried his hardest to keep his irritation from showing.
This is going to be tough, Altina. Why did you have to issue this challenge?
✧ ✧ ✧
Whatever happened in three days’ time, there was something Regis needed to do today. If the regiment came under inspection, then not only the officer in charge of finance, but even the commander could be punished for failing to supervise. Even if she was but a commander-in-name.
Such an inspection risked certain secrets coming to light.
Now returning to his own room, Regis wrote up the rest of his paperwork in a hurry.
He’d fallen victim to the demons of sleep on several occasions, who managed to snatch a great deal of his time; luckily, despite their best efforts he somehow finished the job and stamped the seal onto his final stack of paperwork.
His task complete, Regis languidly rose from his seat and walked outside.
The sun was now at its zenith. The sky had been cloudy that morning, but was now sunny enough to melt the snow coating the ground below. It was warm enough that he could have even done without his coat.
A line of people had formed by the southern gate.
The courier was here.
The majority of those pleasantly accepting letters were knights. Most soldiers could neither read nor write and so, naturally, seldom partook in writing letters.
“The carriage is leaving!”
Clang, clang, the bell chimed.
Regis broke into a sprint.
“Wait, wait! Hold the carriage! I’ll be in big trouble if this isn’t sent out today!”
The postal service came only once every two weeks.
Just before the courier could hop on board, Regis pushed the sealed document into his hands. He returned a subtly peeved glare.
“Let’s see... It’s addressed to the Ministry of Military Affairs? Mister, aren’t military documents sent through a different postal service?”
“I’m in a hurry, and there’ll be serious consequences for us if that isn’t delivered. It’s a mission of vital importance. Please.”
“Hold up, I’m just a civilian courier, not a soldier! If it’s really that important, send a messenger.”
“Sir Jerome refuses to waste his soldiers on paperwork. It’s a real bother...”
“Hm, well, the ministry is in the capital, so I guess I could drop by...”
“Thanks, that’s a massive help.”
Regis handed over a shiny copper denier as a tip.
The courier smiled and placed the document with the rest of his cargo.
I’ll write that off as a necessary expense, Regis decided, painfully aware of his lack of personal funds.
The post carriage departed through the southern gate. With this, it seemed Regis could finally get a wink of sleep. He let out a large yawn, only to be interrupted by a faint giggle coming from behind.
He turned around to see Clarisse, a mountain of laundry hoisted under her arms.
“You look tired.”
“Yeah... Not only has the paperwork worn me thin, there are all sorts of things happening that I just can’t leave be.”
“Is it about the princess? You don’t have to worry about her.”
“...Do you have any time to spare?”
“Do I look free? The absolute cheek.”
She pouted, adjusting her stance to further emphasize the already unmissable heaps of cloth.
Back at the capital, it was natural to use detergent to clean garments, but here it was normal to use the tried-and-tested washboard. Detergent was still a luxury item in these parts.
“Sorry, you do look busy... It’s quite strange to do laundry at this time of day, though. Aren’t you supposed to do that early in the morning?”
“Milk was spilled all over the tablecloth in the dining hall. If I don’t wash it now, the smell will be something awful.”
“Oh, I see. Were you the one who spilled it?”
“No. I just happened to be free. If you don’t mind me doing laundry while we talk, I’ll happily hear you out.”
“Let’s do that. I’ll carry half.”
When he held out his hands, Clarisse smiled mischievously.
“Will you be all right?”
“I may be weak, but I should at least be able to carry half the laundry you can carry.”
“No, I meant the milk. It’ll stick to your clothes.”
“Erk... Whatever. I’ll wash it out with a wet cloth later.”
“Fufufu...”
The cloth Clarisse entrusted him with wasn’t even that wet... though it did smell of milk.
Regis made for the washing area with her.
Among a servant’s duties, laundry was just as important as cooking and cleaning. There was a semi-basement specially constructed for the task in a corner of the soldiers’ western ward.
Water from the melted snow flowed in through clay pipes, keeping the row of washing stations nice and wet.
The cloth was first submerged in the flowing water. Clarisse gave it some time to soak, letting as much of the stain wash out as possible.
Her pale hands immediately turned red on contact with the icy water.
“Kh...”
“Let me help.”
“I’m fine. So, you wanted to talk about the princess?”
“Yes, but... when you’re doing such a tough job right in front of me, I feel uncomfortable just standing around while I talk.”
“You say some strange things. That’s just what we call status.”
“In that case, helping out where I want to is within my status. ...Um, like this?”
Regis took a tablecloth from the mountain of laundry and imitated Clarisse, soaking it in the water.
“Ugah!?”
It was painfully cold.
“How incorrigible... Take your hands out of the water from time to time. You’ll get frostbite if you keep them in.”
“Ah, that makes sense. Are you okay doing this?”
“I’m used to it.”
“I see.”
“In the mornings, when I’m doing large loads of laundry, I’ll use that pot over there to heat the water. You can use it to warm your hands, and hot water gets rid of stains easier.”
There was indeed a large pot in the corner of the room.
That explained it. Otherwise, he couldn’t imagine how anyone could wash multiple pieces of clothing. Regis already felt like crying after just one.
“You’re not going to heat the water today?”
“There are only a few pieces to do. Are you done with your talk?”
“No, just beginning... Kuh...”
He rubbed his fingers that were stinging from the cold, trying to reclaim their heat. But leaving the cloth be wouldn’t get rid of the stains.