Chapter 13

I pride myself on having met a wide variety of people throughout my life.

Especially during my youth, which I spent on the battlefield, I experienced many different connections that I could never have encountered on the island.

But I swear, this was the first time I had ever seen something like this.

'A master made of an egg...'

I stood in the middle of the large bed, carefully examining the size and shape of the egg, which was at least half my height. It was quite beautiful, for an egg.

'Could this be some kind of Weatherwax family joke?'

Just as I was wondering, the real Lord Weatherwax would appear from inside the room, right?

Just in case, I exaggerated my surprise.

"Oh my!"

But no matter how long I waited, the real Lord Weatherwax never appeared. Hmm. Maybe my reaction was too bland.

I looked at the housekeeper for advice but couldn't bring myself to speak. His face was so serious.

Thanks to this, I was able to return to the reality I had been avoiding.

The white egg, neatly placed on the bed.

'This egg is the real Lord Weatherwax.'

I straightened my back and faced the egg.

After all, this was my first meeting with my master as a maid. I needed to make a good impression.

I gently stroked the shell of the egg, or rather, Lord Weatherwax, and greeted it.

"Lord."

You're so smooth.

Of course, there was no response. Only a soft, heartbeat-like vibration came from inside the shell.

"What do you think, Miss Daisy?"

What do I think?

"It's soft and warm."

The housekeeper, who had been momentarily surprised, burst out laughing, covering his mouth.

I had never seen the housekeeper laugh so heartily before, which made me feel a bit awkward.

"You are truly..."

He cleared his throat awkwardly and looked at the egg with a somewhat relieved expression.

"I first met the current Lord Weatherwax four years ago. Back then, he was smaller than an egg, but now he has grown to the point where he can barely fit in one's arms."

Grown continuously for four years?

"The shell is very hard, even though it feels soft and you can sense a heartbeat. I doubt even a regular sword could pierce it."

Is this egg really alive?

The housekeeper, who had been intently observing my expression, whispered softly.

"Don't doubt it, Miss Daisy. This egg was entrusted to me by the previous master with the words, 'Please take good care of my successor.'"

"Hmm."

"The current Lord Gray Weatherwax is the only successor of the previous master. The previous master passed away in the Mage War. He was a hero of humanity, a distinguished figure of the empire, and a pride of the family. He dedicated all his wealth for ten years, willingly donating four mansions to the military and building orphanages for children who lost their parents and families across the empire. I remember he received many medals during his lifetime."

While the housekeeper smiled softly, reminiscing about the past, I slowly removed my hand from the egg.

'The Mage War.'

Midwinter is a city far from the southern front, a place with little connection to the Mage War.

War, by nature, affects the entire land, but the impact varies greatly by region.

The citizens of Midwinter probably only felt the war through forced conscription.

The landscape of Midwinter, as solid and seamless as a completed puzzle, had a faint smell of death. There were no traces of collapsed buildings or crematoriums for the fallen.

Since settling here, I occasionally found my past on the front lines distant.

'Did I ever encounter the previous Lord Weatherwax on the battlefield?'

I had never heard the name Weatherwax before coming to Midwinter, but it wasn't impossible that we had met by chance during the war.

Given his dedication to sharing the family's wealth, I must have passed him at least once.

'The modest interior of the manor, uncharacteristic of a noble, had a reason.'

Good people leave quickly.

This is an unchanging truth.

If the previous Lord Weatherwax had survived, he would have been revered as a heroic figure, enhancing the family's prestige. But death leaves only medals and honor.

Moreover, the only successor is not a person but an 'egg'...

"The previous master even got married during the war. Wasn't he a romantic figure?"

The housekeeper's gaze turned to the wall opposite the bed.

As she approached the wall with a lamp, a large portrait was revealed from the darkness.

"The other party was Enat Rosewell, the only daughter and successor of the Rosewell family. She passed away not long after the previous master, as if following him."

In the portrait, two young people stood.

The blonde couple, apart from their noticeable youth, were quite ordinary. Their high-quality clothing and gentle expressions exuded the ease of the upper class.

"When the current Lord Rosewell passes away, the title and wealth of the Rosewell family will belong to our master."

The name Lord Rosewell was familiar to me as well. He was a seasoned veteran who had fought alongside Duke Berkeley Grayton on the battlefield.

'He must still be in good health.'

Though we weren't close, the news of his survival made me feel better.

"Actually, a considerable portion of the Rosewell family's wealth is already under the Weatherwax family's control. The previous Lady Weatherwax brought an enormous dowry. However, due to the prenuptial agreement, the dowry is locked away and cannot be used by anyone, not even the legal successor, Lord Weatherwax."

For the Weatherwax family, it was a series of unfortunate events.

"The assassins are likely after that wealth. The current Weatherwax family is suffering from a wide variety of... creative and malicious rumors. After all, it's natural for a new successor of a prestigious family to be inactive."

'The previous Lady Weatherwax's wealth.'

There are many wealthy nobles in the world, not just her. Could they have sent assassins multiple times just for the locked wealth?

Suspicious, very suspicious.

I didn't say this to the housekeeper, but I suspected that the reason for the assassins wasn't solely the wealth.

"Are these secrets I can know?"

The housekeeper, who had been staring at the portrait, turned to look at me.

"Since we've already sworn an oath, what can't you know? From now on, it's Miss Daisy who needs to be careful with her words. It feels so refreshing to speak openly. It was so hard to keep quiet for four years."

Turning my head, I looked at the giant egg on the bed.

Why is the successor of the previous Lord Weatherwax an egg?

Out of all the possibilities, why an egg? And what is inside this egg?

If time passes and the egg hatches, and a person is born, that would be fortunate. But if something else is born...

'No. Logically, the possibility is low.'

The assumption that the successor is protected inside the egg's shell is the most plausible.

The Weatherwax couple, concerned about emergencies, must have cast a 'protective barrier' around the newborn successor.

If the child can grow safely inside an unbreakable egg, they won't be threatened by relatives blinded by the wealth.

In short, this egg is the true successor of the Weatherwax family.

"Is the secret of the Weatherwax family a burden to you?"

"Not really."

"That's a relief. I thought Miss Daisy would be fine. You are, um, well, a bit... unusual?"

"An impolite expression."

"Don't take it too personally. Still, Mr. Lu is even more unusual than you."

That's true.

"Miss Daisy seems to live each day with enthusiasm, which is nice to see. I'm curious about what drives you to live so vigorously. Can you tell me?"

It's an unexpectedly philosophical question.

'What drives me. Is it the legacy of Dean Ket?'

That's my life's goal, not my driving force.

I don't live because of Dean Ket's legacy.

Even if there was no hope of healing my soul, I would have lived my three years to the fullest. I can't end my life just because I lack a goal or a driving force.

"Is there nothing at all?"

"Nothing comes to mind."

"I see. That's why I chose you."

"..."

"Usually, people like Miss Daisy don't betray others. They are indifferent to others and to themselves. It's interesting to think about. Do they not betray because they are indifferent?"

I thought he was mocking me for living without purpose, but it seemed he had a firm standard for judging people.

Silently staring, the housekeeper laughed awkwardly and turned off the lamp by the bed.

"I'm sorry. I might have been too presumptuous. Please forgive me. For some reason, I've been talking a lot to you today. Let's go back now; it's late."

We left the bedroom and returned to the first floor.

The housekeeper, perhaps intending to finish his cigarette, went out the back door through the kitchen, and I followed her to the backyard of the manor.

I had some chores to take care of.

"Oh, right. I forgot about them."

Before lighting his cigarette, the housekeeper hesitated, and I passed by him, picking up the two unconscious bodies.

Noticing one of the assassins stirring, I didn't forget to give him another blow.

As I gently leaped over the wall, the housekeeper urgently asked,

"What do you plan to do with them?"

I intended to hand them over to the butler assassin, and we would discuss the specific disposal method.

Considering the special nature of the Eschera manor, the best option for now would be to keep them there.

...Explaining this would take too long, so I gave a brief answer.

"Burial."

Leaving the pale housekeeper behind, I crossed over to the Eschera manor.

Fortunately, the butler assassin seemed to welcome the presence of the two unconscious bodies. He mentioned that he was short on hands.

A few days later.

I slapped the cheek of Lord Pedegail, a friend of the previous master, and was sued for assault and coercion.