TLNTAAM Chapter 23

Compensation Comes from His Majesty

How does compensation work. What's the procedure.

The waiting room was as quiet as ever. Mary greeted me with the same warm smile as yesterday. I'd only been here a few times, but I liked this space.

A tall cabinet and one sturdy table—that was the whole room. Teacups and plates on the shelves, food for the saint tucked away in the corner.

Strangely calming. Not large at all, but something about it settled the noise in my head.

The saint would obviously be at prayer at this hour. I finished my tasting and turned toward Mary. The experienced maid sat in her chair, knitting.

I looked around, but there was no one else to ask. I arranged my expression and ventured the question.

"Mary, I've been thinking about something since earlier..."

"What is it, Nina?"

"Who is that?"

I pointed at a man. Mary smiled kindly and answered.

"I'm not entirely sure myself."

Mary. That is not an acceptable answer.

There's a strange man sitting here completely unbothered, reading books in a room where food for the saint circulates, and you're not saying a word? When I walked in, I nearly turned right back around thinking I had the wrong place.

"Is he allowed to be here?"

Everything involving the saint was under strict security. Even in the waiting room, soldiers stood guard outside the door. And yet this man had stacked books on the table like he owned the place.

"The soldiers let him in, so he should be trustworthy."

I was fidgeting. Mary just smiled pleasantly and went back to her knitting. I was the only one who felt awkward. What was wrong with everyone.

Even amid all of it, the suspicious man kept reading. Only reading. I looked him over carefully.

Dark brown hair braided and hanging loose. Thick-lensed glasses, though they suited him well enough. He was reading in absolute peace.

'He looks strangely... harmless?'

The man had a faint smile at the corner of his mouth. His eyes were brown, close in shade to his hair. They suited him remarkably well.

'Fair is fair.'

Something was off about him, but he was undeniably a pretty young man with a gentle look. Soft eyes and fair skin in excellent combination.

'Iberia really does have good water.'

How were there this many attractive people in one place.

I stared openly at the suspicious youth. Bored holes through him. He didn't so much as twitch. Still reading, utterly absorbed.

'He makes me feel like the fool for caring.'

I was losing somehow. Mary was doing her work, so I should do mine.

I quietly took out the book tucked in my apron.

『Customs of Iberia』

Sabina's gift. I'd meant to read it immediately, but one thing after another had kept getting in the way. I'd just set it on the table when, without warning, an unfamiliar voice spoke.

"〈Customs of Iberia〉. A fine book."

I startled badly. The speaker was the suspicious pretty young man who had been statue-still over his own book this whole time.

'Why are you suddenly talking.'

Not a flicker while I was staring at him, and the moment I set the book down, he opens his mouth.

"Would you mind if I had a look?"

Politely phrased as a request. He was already picking up my book and reading it. At that point I was purely, simply curious.

'What exactly is wrong with you?'

Knowing or not knowing what I was thinking, the man smiled brightly.

"A first edition. Worn, but the texture of the surface—it's been well cared for. Where did you get it?"

"It was a gift."

"Whoever gave it to you parted with something they valued."

I started to say it was Sabina, then stopped.

'First edition, though. Is printing technology actually decent here?'

I was going to have to throw out everything I thought I knew. Books being common meant something. I quietly buried my historical common sense in the deepest part of my mind. This place seemed fully capable of producing something completely outrageous and treating it as ordinary.

"Excuse me, but."

I finally managed the question I'd been wanting to ask since the beginning.

"Who are you?"

"Me? Ah, I haven't introduced myself. Beyato Sabré. They call me Bea."

He'd given his name, so I gave mine.

"Nina Cage."

"I know. The one all the rumors are about?"

Fine that he knew, but which rumors. Something told me it was the terrifying kind, and I couldn't quite meet his eyes.

'Something like—she's already dead, or—she's the king's woman...'

Those were the two things I'd heard, and both were extraordinary. My reputation kept deteriorating past damaged and into genuinely strange.

'That's not who I am.'

If there were a podium somewhere, I'd give a speech. Would actively defending myself—'The speaker argues strenuously!'—actually improve my standing?

"Your name reaches everywhere I go. Even I hear it, and I'm rather hard of hearing."

"I... see."

"Even apart from that, I know who you are."

What was that supposed to mean.

"I'm here on His Majesty's orders."

For a moment my mind went blank. I'm sorry? Why is His Majesty suddenly appearing in this conversation?

"I hear you wanted to file for compensation?"

I was completely thrown, but the man produced documents as if this were entirely routine.

"I'll handle the paperwork."

"Ah, wait, I—"

"Normally the review takes some time, but since His Majesty personally gave the order, it should be quite quick. Take a look at this."

He said look, so I looked. There wasn't much to it. Name and account of the incident—that was all.

"This is all I have to fill out?"

This simple?

"Yes. The decision rests with His Majesty."

I startled so badly I nearly knocked my chair over. I nearly died because of the Grand Duke, but His Majesty decides the compensation?

"Hold on. The compensation comes from the Grand Duke, doesn't it?"

"No. His Majesty personally awards compensation."

"Why?"

I grabbed Beyato's sleeve. He glanced at the hand clutching his sleeve, then smiled gently.

"His Majesty is the head of the royal family. And Nina is a maid. Maids aren't exactly royal household staff—you belong to this castle. A subject was injured, so naturally the castle's lord provides compensation."

What kind of procedure was this. I let go of his sleeve and pressed my hand to my forehead.

"Even if Nina weren't a maid, compensation arising from an incident caused by a royal would be issued by His Majesty."

"So the Grand Duke just... walks away from it?"

"Not at all. His Majesty will request from the Grand Duke whatever amount he awards to Nina."

Now the system made sense.

'So the king pays compensation first, then extracts money from the royal who caused the incident.'

Made sense, really. If someone at my level filed directly with the Grand Duke, he'd probably run his mouth about being specially chosen or whatever and simply refuse to pay.

'So that's why this system exists.'

Rational in a sense, though if it got stuck at the king in the middle it would all be for nothing.

'Is this just how things work under royal rule.'

The more I saw of it, the stranger Iberia became.

"Please fill out the application."

Whatever the road, as long as it got to the destination. I filled out the form slowly. The content was genuinely simple.

Due to the Grand Duke entering the women's quarters without warning, I fell and nearly died. I am requesting physical and emotional compensation accordingly.

Condensed, the entire incident was two sentences. Somehow that felt absurd.

"Is this all right?"

Beyato looked at what I'd written and nodded.

"Well done. I'll submit this to the office."

The young man gathered the documents with an easy smile. I said please take care of it, and he said it was His Majesty's order.

'Ah right. He said he'd send someone.'

That day when I'd hit my limit, the king had said that. He'd actually followed through.

Something complicated settled in my chest. I shook my head and forced the feeling away.

Then Beyato said:

"It really is lovely here."

The young man looked around and drew a long breath.

"Perfect for reading. Are you here all the time?"

The man smiling in the sunlight like a contented dog was genuinely warm.

'He'd be an ideal younger man.'

No matter how exhausting the work, if a man like that was home with an apron on and dinner ready and a smile when you walked in, the stress would just dissolve.

'Hm?'

I was in the middle of enjoying the warmth of it when something felt strange. I covered my eyes with my hand. A peculiar ache was building in my chest.

'Why is this happening?'

Like I'd drunk ten glasses of lemon juice—a strange stinging, and moisture gathering at the corners of my eyes. What on earth.

"Are you unwell? Your color doesn't look good."

"No. I'm fine."

Sad.

Something from one corner of my chest told me what this was. I didn't understand why, but right now I wanted to cry.

'Have I finally lost my mind?'

From the moment I had two sets of memories, there had been warning signs. After everything that had happened—had I caught something like depression?

'For depression, I'm too calm.'

I was sad, but I couldn't understand why. And strangely enough, the moment I thought that, the longing that had swept through me vanished just as quickly.

'I don't know.'

Why am I like this. Have I finally cracked.

I buried the tangle of feelings and answered the question he'd asked earlier.

"No. This is the waiting room."

"What work do you do, Nina?"

"I'm a tasting maid."

"That's why there are so many soldiers outside. And why this corridor is so quiet—because it's the furthest in."

The young man nodded and turned to ask Mary:

"Would it be all right if I came to read here occasionally? The library is rather rowdy these days. It's mating season."

Hold on—who said anyone could just read here? Is that allowed? No, wait—mating season? Is there a zoo next to the library?

Mary didn't pause her knitting. With the ease of a very experienced maid, she answered:

"The students must be going through puberty."

"They're all people I know, so I can't really scold them. My only option is to flee."

"Teaching sounds difficult. Then again, guiding people was always grueling work."

Their conversation flowed like water, but I couldn't hide my bewildered expression. This man—why had he called puberty mating season.

'Impressive that Mary understood him at all.'

Anyway. This was an important space, as far as I knew—would Mary actually agree?

"It makes no difference to me. So long as you have His Majesty's permission."

"He'll permit it. Thank you, Mary."

My concern was entirely beside the point. Their conversation wrapped up warmly.

I looked at the young man. His face was full of smiles.

'He really must have desperately needed a place to read.'

Mary had permitted it, so there was nothing to say. And I didn't particularly want to object.

'Well. Nothing to be done, then.'

As long as the dear king permitted it, that was the end of it. He must be someone trustworthy. And no matter how I looked at him, that man was simply going to sit there quietly turning pages.

The young man opened his book again. I looked back and forth between Mary and Beyato, and gave up on everything.