CH 23

This time, the answer came from below, and the grandson lowered his gaze again.

“What kind of contract?”

“A water mill.”

“Then you can use it without a contract. You can use the waterwheel whenever you want, as long as you pay for it.”

“I know, but I’d still like to sign a contract, and I’ll pay for it up front as a down payment.”

“A down payment?”

The grandson looked surprised. Why would he walk up to a small mill with a single water wheel and make a down payment?

The grandson’s head spun, but his mouth was open.

“How far did you look?”

“About how much?”

Eisel held up two fingers. Two silver coins? It wasn’t a lot of money, but something was missing. The grandson’s mouth watered.

“Is this enough to make it a monopoly?”

The old man’s eyes widened as he listened to the conversation, rubbing his eyes in disbelief at the sudden appearance of the gold coins. The old man pushed his grandson out of the way, saying, “What’s wrong with you?”

Yes, of course you can. If you tell me the date you want, I can give you the whole week, or even ten days!”

Beoric and the grandson shared an awkward laugh as the old man spat out the polite honorific, the colloquialisms obliterated from his mouth like a habit.

Eisel smirked and held out the contract and the pouch of gold coins she had prepared. The old man checked the gold coins and signed the contract.

“We’ll set the date later, right?”

“Yes. I’ll tell you!”

“Okay, I’ll look forward to hearing from you!”

The old man tucked the bag of gold coins into his arms, a smile curving his wrinkled mouth.

Eisel bowed and left the mill curtsying. Beoric glanced back to check on the last mill, then looked down at Eisel.

“Come on, Eisel. Is it really necessary to buy all these mills?”

“Sure. You’ll see when you get there. Besides that, where are those other places I told you about?”

“I have a wagon ready.”

“Then let’s go!”

Eisel grinned and tugged at Béoric’s hand. Béoric watched her silver hair sway as she dragged him along.

What the hell is she thinking about that small head?

Unable to keep up with his daughter’s thoughts, Béoric could not help but be drawn to her hand.

* * *

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Eisel, who was preparing to leave out, looked in surprise at Lancia, who had opened the carriage door to reveal herself.

“Eisel!!!”

As soon as she stepped out of the carriage, Lancia hugged Eisel and looked sad. Lancia rubbed her head against her soft silver hair, then grabbed her shoulders and pulled away slightly.

“What’s going on?”

“What?”

“You haven’t attended class in two weeks! And you haven’t contacted me. I thought something had happened to Eisel!”

Lancia rolled her eyes as she scanned Aizel’s body.

“And I thought that bastard was planning to do something to Aizel, and I was determined to grab him and smash him to pieces for all I was worth…….”

“Calm down, Lancia, calm down. It didn’t happen.”

“……Really?”

“Uh, really. Nothing happened.”

Lancia stared at Eisel’s face, who nodded calmly, then narrowed her brow.

“Then why weren’t you in class?”

“Something came up.”

“Work?”

Lancia tilted her head. Eisel stretched out a finger nonchalantly and pointed to the open warehouse. It was small, an unused stable that had been converted into a makeshift warehouse, and they moved grain into it.

Lancia glanced at the busy porters and asked them questions.

“What do they have to do with Eisel not showing up?”

“Why, you know, that assignment Duke gave me the other day? That’s it?”

“That?”

“Yes.”

To Lancia’s still-young eyes, there seemed to be no connection between carrying those grains, Eisel’s absence from class, and the assignment.

“What the hell is that?” Lancia stared at the grain, then glanced back at Eisel.

“By any chance, slaves……?”

“No, don’t be silly, it’s been years since slavery was abolished.”

“Well?”

“Well, it’s a long and complicated story, but the canteen?”

“What’s a concession stand?”

A word too difficult. Eisel tried again to explain it to an eight-year-old. After listening to Aizel’s explanation, Lancia nodded briefly and opened her mouth.

“Ah, so you’re saying you stockpiled a lot of grain to make bread?”

“Sort it off. It might work out.”

Eisel smirked, and Lancia’s eyes twinkled. Lancia’s tiny hand was almost there instantly, and then Eisel’s.

“It’s going to be great!”

“Well, is it?”

“YAY! Of course! I’ve never met anyone smarter than Eisel in my life, so it’s going to work out!”

Aizel smirked at Lancia’s dialect. After releasing Lancia, Aizel patted her on the head.

Smiling shyly at the small touch, Lancia ducked her head and with a small “Ouch!” walked back to the carriage to retrieve the paper.

“Here’s your report card! I know I don’t have to bring it to you, but I thought I’d bring it anyway.”

“Thank you.”

The difference in their grades was obvious enough that she didn’t need to see it. As Eisel took the report card, Lancia opened her mouth cautiously.

“And Belen told me to come by tomorrow if you’re free.”

“A teacher? Why?”

“I don’t know, he just asked me to tell you that.”

Why would Belen seek me out? Eisel tilted her head in puzzlement. There must have been something wrong with the test. Eisel tried to think of a reason why Belen would want to see her, but she couldn’t come up with anything, so she just nodded.

“More than that, Aizel. Where else are you heading?”

“Uh, yeah. I have somewhere to go.”

“Can I come with you?”

“You can follow me, but it’s dangerous.”

“It’s okay!”

Eisel glanced at the beaming Lancia and then toward the carriage. Glancing at the flying knight standing in the carriage, Eisel muttered, “I guess we don’t need to bring the mercenaries then…….,” before taking Lancia’s hand.

“Then let’s go.”

* * *

“Eisel…….”

Lancia’s voice shook like a newborn goat as she called out to Eisel, her shoulders slumping under the harsh glares that pierced her everywhere. Eisel patted Lancia’s shoulder and looked ahead.

The dark, dingy tavern, not a pleasant place to be, had been filled with dark men since early morning. The men, who had been drinking and talking loudly since broad daylight, did not like the arrival of a girl who did not belong here.

With a drink in each hand and a cigarette hanging from their mouths, the girls look aristocratic.

She can’t help but stare. Eisel stood in front of a young man reading a newspaper with Lancia tucked into a product. When Eisel stopped, the man untangled his arms and lowered the cigarette into his mouth.

The man’s brown eyes swept up and down Eisel and Lancia, and then his upper body leaned forward.

“What is it?”

“Are you Rebecca?”

“That’s my wife. But how do you know my wife? Are you the one I’m hiding?”

The man’s face crumpled into a grimace, and Lancia, who had been hiding behind him, disappeared behind Eisel’s back.

“No, no. I’m afraid there is no such birth secret.”

“I’m glad to hear that. It is Randol.”

The man introduced himself and shake Eisel’s hand. Eisel took the man’s hand, which was much larger than hers, shook it lightly, and smiled wryly.

“I heard you’re the most famous bootlegger in the capital, is that correct?”

“Who told you that?”

“It’s written in bold letters right there in front of me.”

[selling the highest quality and cheapest booze in the capital].

Randol gasped as he remembered the phrase he’d written.

“But why do you ask? Why do you need bootlegging, too? You’re a nobleman, apparently, and I don’t think you need cheap bootlegging like this.”

“On the contrary, I thought you might need me.”

“……what?”

Randol stared blankly at Eisel’s question for a moment before answering too late. Aisel’s words caused the nearby drinkers, who had been listening to their conversation, to jump up from their seats. They also tossed down their appetizers.

“That scumbag!”

“I knew you had a thing for girls way back, but this is unacceptable.”

“I told you, he’s going to die one day. Beat him to death!”

“You crazy psycho!”

These were all pretty normal reactions that you wouldn’t expect from a bunch of guys who’d been sitting in a bar all morning drinking crack.

Randall rose from his seat, embarrassed by his sudden psychotic fire baptism.

“That’s enough……!!!”

“What are you doing?”

Just then, the foot behind him scurried up, revealing a gorgeous woman. She scanned the bar interior and narrowed her eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Rebecca, I’m glad you’re here. Those young girls came up to see what that asshole was doing out there and asked if he needed anything.”

“What?”

A gruff man with a scruffy beard snarled at Rebecca.

Rebecca, stunned by the story, glanced back and forth between my husband, Randol, and Eisel, who was standing in front of him, and slowly approached.