Chapter 80

"Sir, for someone of your stature to guide someone like me, a mere minor noble, is truly humbling. We will simply mingle and listen to the conversations while picking at some food, so please, Duke, proceed to your seat without worrying about us. It's a matter of maintaining appearances, isn't it?"

After completing the registration, Viscount Rovain, who had only ceremonially worn a saber at his waist, handed it over to the cloakroom and was personally escorted to the grand hall by Duke Avenir.

Incidentally, this general assembly is primarily a standing reception.

The flow of events is as follows: after mingling with close nobles and stakeholders in the venue, the Marquis will give a greeting and report on important matters, followed by visits to greet the higher nobles, which also serve as petitions.

There are no seats for those below the rank of Viscount, but seats are provided for the eight Duke families of the Dragoon Dukedom and their foster families.

"Hmph. I thought the same, you fool! The Marquis said, 'Rovain was completely off the radar of our intelligence department. The head of the house is said to be a carefree noble who has no interest in the rise and fall of the family, but we cannot afford to be further embarrassed by a lack of information. There is no record of him greeting anyone at previous meetings, and if left alone, he might blend in and not even greet anyone, so I will take responsibility for guiding him!' I thought there couldn't be such an unusual person... 'Picking at some food while listening to the conversation'? There will be no time for you to eat during this general assembly! You're causing quite a fuss. How long do you plan to keep up this carefree facade?"

By nature, Belwood is a carefree person, and if asked how long he plans to keep it up, he can only answer until he dies.

"Really!? No time to eat? ...I am, as the Marquis said, a mediocre noble who is unqualified. I leave the academy matters to the person himself. Therefore, there is nothing for me to discuss with the Duke or Sir. I will come to greet you later, so I will take my leave for now—"

The Duke grabbed Bel by the collar.

"I'm telling you to take off that carefree facade right now. If I'm not around, you'll be surrounded by attendees in no time and won't be able to move, you fool. Do you intend to make the Marquis wait in line to greet you?"

"That's an exaggeration... As I've been saying, I have no interesting stories to tell. People will soon lose interest. More importantly, I haven't eaten since last night and am very hungry. It's impossible to go through this long assembly without eating or drinking. Could I at least have a piece of bread? Enjoying the popular bread of Dragoon during this assembly has been my long-standing pleasure..."

Belwood was reluctant to be taken to the Marquis of Dragoon, a person he had never even spoken to, and began to act like a spoiled child.

"That's not a good attitude, Bel. It's not appropriate to trouble Sir with such childish behavior. If you're that hungry, eat this."

Unable to bear her husband's attitude, Cecilia handed him a portable emergency food bar, plain flavor.

"...I want bread—"

"Huh?"

Belwood reluctantly took the emergency food bar.

◆

"It's been a while, Belwood. The last time we spoke directly was when I received your application for tax deferment during the famine in the Rovain territory ten years ago. It seems you have been managing your territory well since then, which is a relief. Sit there."

Viscount Belwood Rovain was dragged by the collar by Duke Avenir to a rectangular long table at the back of the hall, which could seat about thirty people.

At the head of the table, where one could see the entire hall, the head of the Dragoon family, Marquis Meria Dragoon, stood up upon recognizing Belwood and invited him to sit in the second seat, which is traditionally reserved for the head's companion.

This gesture shocked the heads of the higher noble families who were observing the scene.

Even though the Marquis had lost her husband early, for her to stand up and offer the second seat herself implied that she was treating the guest as an equal—such as the head of another Marquis family or the head of a family that had married into the Dragoon family.

Although she had already passed the 'von' name, which represents the highest responsibility of the family, to her granddaughter Fay, being treated as an equal by the current head of the Dragoon family, Meria, made even the carefree Belwood break into a nervous sweat.

It was impossible for her to remember him from a brief exchange on the petition conveyor belt at a general assembly ten years ago.

This meant that she had prepared in advance for their conversation.

"It's been a long time, Sir. I am deeply grateful for your generous measures at that time. Thanks to you, the people in my territory are living peacefully. However, I feel that this seat is too high. I understand that being allowed to sit at the same table as you is a great honor, but please let me sit at the end of the table."

Bel wanted to at least sit at the end of the table to blend into the background and, if possible, sneak a bite of bread.

"Stop being so formal, Belwood. We nobles are all direct vassals of His Majesty, so in that sense, there is no hierarchy. I want to have an open conversation with you today. As the meeting progresses, it will become hectic with petitions and other matters, so we won't have much time to talk. There's no need for further discussion. Mrs. Rovain, please sit next to him. The Avenirs are here."

It would be impolite to refuse again after being invited again.

Belwood reluctantly took the designated seat.

The heads of the eight Duke families and the heads of the Dragoon family's branch families, who could be considered the leaders of this Dragoon region, did not dare to intervene when the 'Empress' Meria Dragoon, who had been in charge of the Dragoon family for over 30 years, spoke.

Incidentally, normally only the head of the family is allowed to sit at this long table.

In fact, some of the parents of this year's Royal Academy qualifiers, who appeared to be lower nobles, were seen sitting at the end of the table, but only the heads of the families were seated.

Cecilia and the Avenir couple, who were invited to sit in front of her, could be considered to have received special treatment that deviated from the usual protocol.

"Well...

*Pfft*.

...It's an honor, but you don't have to look so displeased. It hurts my maiden heart. So, why did Belwood appear, being picked up by Nix? It was quite an unconventional entrance...

Nix was saying something about 'peeling the skin of a charlatan with my spear before bringing him,' but did you faint from fear?"

Meria smiled and asked the two.

Duke Avenir looked bitter.

"Well, when this fellow got out of the carriage, I threatened him with my spear, but instead of fainting, he said he was hungry and that it was his long-standing pleasure to eat Dragoon bread while listening to the conversation during the assembly, and that I should not worry about him. He tried to blend in and escape when I wasn't looking, so I had to grab him by the collar and bring him here."

The table was already buzzing with whispers.

"That Avenir Duke's spear and being hungry... Is he a fool?"

"More importantly, to be offered the second seat by Sir and look so displeased, what could he be thinking?"

"Why would such a scatterbrained man's son qualify for the Royal Academy A class... Could the rumors of cheating be true...?"

Meria Dragoon, hearing Duke Avenir's story, did not seem offended and asked Bel.

"Hmm. I remember you applied for research funding for wheat variety improvement the year after the famine. Next year will be the end of the ten-year research period. How are the results?"

Belwood's expression darkened for two reasons.

He had applied for the research through the government, so he had not even discussed it with the Marquis in front of him.

If she was only interested because Allen qualified for the A class, that would be one thing, but it was clear that she had thoroughly investigated the Rovain family.

And the other issue—

"Ah, the yield has increased by about 3% annually, but there is a problem."

"Hmm. What kind of problem?"

"The wheat is resistant to the magic blight that caused the famine, but the aroma and the rise when baked into bread are not satisfactory... I cannot confidently say it is a success."

At this response, a man with a hooked nose, sitting in the middle of the long table, snorted.

"Hah! A 3% annual increase, indeed! No wonder the Rovain family is a topic of conversation in the capital! I am truly impressed. After nine years, the yield has increased by more than 30%. This is a significant improvement that could solve the chronic wheat import dependency issue in the Dragoon region, and you have made the wheat resistant to the magic blight that has plagued the southern Dragoon for years, with the only drawback being the aroma? Stop exaggerating. You're probably just boasting about a good harvest due to favorable weather, using incorrect statistics. I hope you're not trying to falsely report to Sir to secure additional funding!"

At this harsh criticism, Belwood opened his mouth to explain but then swallowed his words.

His wife, sitting next to him, was smiling with a pale face and hands.