Chapter 373: The Last Time We Set Foot Here
As the Judicial Minister said, there’s a strong chance court politics will become a boiling cauldron of chaos, but even if the minor factions run rampant at this point, it’s the ministers who will suffer the headaches. It has little to do with me.
I just need to watch out for the hardliners’ nonsense—and only insofar as it touches my influence, directly or indirectly.
Karsten’s murder of Viscount Neunil may well have carried some such layered intent. The principal culprit has already fled by ship, so there’s no way to catch him, and the queen can’t be investigated either.
It seems best to report to the grand duke and await his guidance.
The situation was far too tangled for me to take the lead.
After finishing my audience with the Judicial Minister and handing over all the materials on Mort and the Neunil remnants, I was finally free to leave. It was already past noon. Tomorrow is the new year, and I want to finish my business quickly and head home.
Breisburg, thrown into disarray by the Gale Knights’ operation, had regained its calm, and people bustled about preparing for the new year festivities. Priests strode busily along every street.
Come tomorrow, I’ll be starting my second year here. I don’t know how long I’ll go on living, but the truth is that my memories of home grow hazier by the day. Sometimes that alone is enough to sadden me.
It had been a long time since I last visited Old Man Bertheim’s mansion. With its master gone, the place looked as if the life had gone out of it. Even the guards standing watch over it had lost every trace of spirit.
The prospect of losing their jobs no doubt made it worse.
If Göring were going to keep living in the mansion, that would be one thing, but he was too old for that. He was the man who had gone on and on about retiring the day Old Man Bertheim passed away, after all.
"Welcome, Baron. You’ve become a proper lord now."
"A proper lord. It would have been better still if the Marquis had been alive to see it."
"I’m sure the Marquis is proud of you as well."
Göring’s eyes held sorrow, regret, and the look of a man facing his own end. An old man who loses his purpose does not last long. He seemed to have braced himself from the start, but the shock must have been immense.
Göring produced a letter.
"This is the Marquis’s will. It was in the keeping of the court clergy, and I prayed it would never arrive, but arrive it did. I suppose the day will come when I send my own will to my children too."
It was the will the old man had left behind. Ordinarily, the Church stands as guarantor for a noble’s testament of inheritance. Say what you will about the Church, it is the one institution that can guarantee such things reliably.
My own will carries the Church’s guarantee as well. I hope the day Hilda has to read it never comes, but for a noble like me, who so often stands on the battlefield, a will is a necessity.
Fail to prepare one, and things get very complicated.
If I died, Hilda would inherit most of my property, but since we have no children yet, the royal family would reclaim the fief. For the Streit family to flourish, an heir is absolutely essential.
But why had Göring brought out the will?
Clearing his throat a few times, Göring read it aloud.
The final portion was the heart of it.
"...Therefore, half of the mansion and estate I bequeath to Wilhelm Göring, and the remaining half I bequeath to Wolfgang Ritter von Streit of the Streit family."
Inheritance? He left an inheritance to me too?
As I stood there flustered, Göring smiled warmly and said,
"You also hold the right of inheritance, Baron."
"I’m not even of the Marquis’s blood. I can’t accept an inheritance."
"It is the Marquis’s last wish. Please, accept it. He always thought of you as a grandson."
It was so unexpected that I genuinely agonized over whether to accept, but Göring insisted that I must. In the end, at his urging, I agreed to inherit half of the old man’s estate.
So this is his final gift to me.
It comes to 30 gold coins, but I will never spend a single one of them carelessly.
"I intend to pass this mansion on to that girl Clara."
"The Shadows will put it to good use. Do you plan to retire now, then?"
"Yes. My children are all grown, and with the Marquis gone, I’d like to spend my remaining years in peace."
Remaining years. He’s certainly reached that age.
But I sensed something bitter in Göring’s tone and in his eyes.
"If you want to spend your remaining years in peace, how about Rosenheim? A place filled with beautiful roses."
"In your territory, Baron? Hmm, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea. It isn’t far from the capital, either."
"Spending your remaining years in my service wouldn’t be so bad, would it?"
"This old man’s strength has run out. I’m in no state to serve you, Baron."
I had no intention whatsoever of putting Göring to work as an attendant. What I wanted was his wealth of experience and his bearing. Hadn’t Daniel and Hans learned a great deal from him? He is an excellent teacher.
"Just give my family’s retainers a lesson now and then. I’ll see you’re treated well for it."
"If that’s all, then I’ll accept your offer, Baron. But the servants of this mansion weigh on my mind. If even I leave this place, they’ll have nowhere to go."
That Göring refused to abandon the servants who had worked at the mansion for so long, and worried over their future, was reason enough to respect his character. And this was both a request and a condition.
Naturally, I was willing to grant a request like that.
Göring had looked after Rosengarden at my request, after all.
"I’ll hire them as the staff to maintain Rosengarden."
"Thank you, Baron. Now I can finally breathe easy."
"I needed live-in staff to maintain Rosengarden anyway."
As the lord of Rosenheim, I will go on living in Rosenheim. Rosengarden can serve as my lodging whenever I visit the capital. I have no intention of staying in someone else’s house, tiptoeing around my hosts.
The first home I ever owned, that rose garden steeped in memories, will remain both the symbol and the villa of the Streit family. Göring went off to gather the servants.
And I quietly slipped Ted a map.
The map Old Man Bertheim left behind.
In other words, a quest reward item.
"Ted, take this map and find the treasure the old man hid."
"Me? Is that all right? I don’t think old Göring would be happy about it."
"It’s fine. If not today, then never—this is the last time we’ll ever set foot in this mansion."
The map the old man left pointed somewhere in the mansion’s garden. Ted pored over it and began combing through the grounds. If he found the treasure easily, I planned to entrust the other three maps to him as well.
And find it he did, splendidly, before Göring returned.
Hmm, he’s practically a sniffer dog.
[Marquis Bertheim’s Map Complete]
[You have acquired 300 silver coins, Cavalry Breakthrough 200% Increase (1 use), Courage 200% Increase (1 day), 10,000 points, and Strategy Map Piece No. 3]
An excellent reward.
Though Ted grumbled that there were only 300 silver coins.
The points and the Strategy Map piece alone would have been plenty, but I got Cavalry Breakthrough and Courage on top of them. Those two scrolls were items I had put to crucial use in battle.
Cavalry Breakthrough in particular made possible that legendary charge against the Bavarian vanguard. It was the finest of items, the one that let me pull off the madness of leading light cavalry in a charge against heavy cavalry.
The old man left me something truly good.
With this, I have three maps remaining.
Setting aside Mort’s map, I gave the other two to Ted.
"Once things settle down, try putting together a search party."
"Me, sir? But I’m a training instructor for the standing army."
"Ted, do you want to stay a training instructor forever?"
If he was content with instructor work, I had no intention of forcing him to lead a unit.
But Ted was an ambitious man too. Just as Oscar had risen to standing army commander, this was Ted’s chance to grow into a proper commander himself. Training men and commanding them are worlds apart.
Fostering my subordinates’ growth was my duty, and I believed Ted could carry out the mission admirably. A master who doesn’t trust his retainers has no right to be one.
"I-I want to lead a unit too!"
"Good. Once things are settled, I’ll give you a unit of your own."
"I won’t let you down, Master!"
Ted clutched the maps tightly, steeling his resolve. Just as Anton grew into a vice commander, I hope Ted will grow enough to be entrusted with a unit of his own. I can’t let outsiders claim every key post, after all.
"I-Is it true? Baron Rosenheim will take us on?"
"Oh, Lord! Thank you!"
When Göring gathered the servants and announced that I had decided to hire them, they cheered and rejoiced. They would have to uproot their lives and move to Rosengarden, but what mattered to them was having work at all.
For all its large population, Breisburg is not a place rich in jobs. Lose your position once, and finding another is brutally hard—especially work keeping a noble’s mansion.
The business at Old Man Bertheim’s mansion was settled.
Now only the negotiation with the head of Elsheimer remained.