The interior of Lord Taylor's residence was unexpectedly devoid of opulence. However, tasteful furnishings and individual decorations lent color to the estate. The overall atmosphere was unified, even bearing a thematic consistency. Frankly, it had a sense of style absent in the nouveau riche, a first-class citizen's taste.
"My father doesn't like to spend much on things, and he’s often called frugal, but I quite like this house," said Carl.
William nodded inwardly to Carl's words. Not ostentatious, yet elegant.
"I find it agreeable as well."
"That's why I said no formalities! It makes me itch."
‘It's obviously impossible, idiot.’
William, feeling irritated, was stared down by Carl with a sulking gaze.
‘The walls of the garden aren't too high. Escape is possible if necessary.’
The garden wasn't vast, but it was tastefully done. A fountain stood in the center, surrounded by a pond. Under normal circumstances, the comfort might have elicited a sigh from William, but he had no such luxury now.
'The layout isn't particularly complex. Even without seeing it, I can grasp its structure and passages.'
If Carl turned against him, if Carl's father sought to make William disappear, being prepared to flee was essential.
It might be unlikely, but not impossible.
"This way. Dinner should be ready," beckoned Carl. A few servants lined up before the door, clad in simple maid uniforms, their demeanor reflecting proper upbringing.
"...Understood," William replied, his expression unchanged. He was prepared, having come this far. An encounter with nobility he hadn't even imagined. An opportunity too soon, but still, an opportunity.
'I will not lose.'
Resolution, complete.
"Please come in, Master Carl, Master Livius," said a woman who appeared to be the head maid, opening the door. And there, seated within...
"Welcome to the Taylor house. I'm glad to have you, William."
Lord Taylor. The purebred noble William saw for the first time.
"I am deeply honored to be invited, Lord Taylor," William bowed deeply. He had picked up a thing or two about manners, knowledge gained from books. It was his first time practicing them, his first time meeting a noble—naturally.
"Truly like chalk, such white hair. I thought a man with streaks of gray would come, Carl."
William shifted his gaze toward the voice. A man with wavy blond hair tied back in a bundle. He appeared slightly older than Carl and William.
"That's rude, brother," Carl retorted indignantly.
"My apologies, guest. My name is Einhart von Taylor. I am a scholar and Carl's brother," said Einhart, bowing respectfully to William, who reflexively bowed in return. Lord Taylor, seated in the back, chuckled at this.
"And sitting opposite me is our beloved sister, Rutgard," said Einhart.
The girl sitting opposite Einhart, Rutgard, bowed shyly. When William met her gaze, she quickly looked away.
'...Does she dislike making eye contact with a commoner?'
William's expression remained unchanged, but inwardly, he was not calm. The man seated at the back, Carl's brother Einhart, and even Rutgard—they all seemed to look down on him. No, he felt that they did.
"Ahaha, Rutgard is terribly shy. Come on now, greet him properly!" Carl puffed up his cheeks.
"I'm Rutgard. It's a pleasure to meet you for the first time, Master William."
"I come from Lusitania. William Livius. The honor is mine, Lady Rutgard."
William rattled off a false background. No, he was indeed William of Lusitania, so there was no falsehood.
"Lastly, I suppose. I am Lord Taylor, Roland von Taylor. I look forward to our future acquaintance, William, Carl's benefactor and friend."
William showed a hint of confusion as the noble bowed.
"Please, take a seat. Let's have a modest feast."
"...Excuse me."
The seating arrangement was such: Roland, the family head, at the far end, Einhart and Carl to the left. Rutgard and...
"...Is this alright?"
"Yes, please."
Rutgard answered in a barely audible voice. William took his seat, and...
"Bring the food, let's have our evening meal."
With Roland's call, dinner began.
༺༻
'I can't taste anything. What am I even eating?'
The array of dishes before William were all delectable and unlike anything he had ever tasted. However, struggling with unfamiliar manners, being mindful of the conversation, and having to discuss Lusitania—a homeland he had never seen—left his taste buds completely numb due to the overly delicious food and the extreme tension.
"...But you seem to have studied well, William."
"No, it's nothing much."
Roland leaned on the table, smiling.
"No, it's quite something. To speak a foreign language so fluently, to be mindful of foreign manners, and the intelligence that peeks through the conversation. Not to mention, Carl says you're strong."
William found that smile frightening. It was clearly different from Carl's. A gaze that seemed to measure William. He had felt something was off for a while.
'Is this man testing me?'
There had been a moment when he was questioned in detail about Lusitania. Looking back, perhaps that conversation was also meant to gauge the man named William.
"Though I'm still inexperienced, I've been studying desperately since I decided to come to Arcadia."
"Wonderful. It must have been no small feat to master a language in the distant land of Lusitania."
Sweat seeped down William's back. The other three were focused on their meal, paying attention to the conversation but unlikely to understand William's tension.
"But why Arcadia? Ostberg, another of the Seven Kingdoms, would be fine. Or Estrado, or Nederkus, the closest to Lusitania. Across the sea, there's the emerging nation of Arcland. I don't see why you would choose Arcadia."
This question was one William had also pondered. Why Arcadia? It was a surefire topic, a question bound to be asked, and William wouldn't have left it unaddressed.
"...It's not a pleasant story."
William's face turned solemn, and Roland raised his voice with interest, "Oh?"
"Lusitania is always caught between the two great powers. I don't know if I have the power, but if I were to make a name for myself, being seen as hostile by one side would be a negative. In the emerging nation of Arcland, even if I made a name for myself, it's questionable whether I could bring glory back to my homeland. That leaves Arcadia and Ostberg. These two have... a decisive difference."
William answered smoothly. All these were undeniable facts he had heard from William himself. There should be no concerns. Undoubtedly, these were the truth.
"That is the treatment of foreigners. In Arcadia, where I'm counted as a person, a third-class citizen, as opposed to Ostberg, which treats me strictly as a foreigner. I left my country to raise my name. Therefore, it's inevitable that I would reside in Arcadia."
There wasn't a single lie in it. If there was a lie, it would be the existence of the person speaking these words here. Well, even that, the identity documents turn the lie into truth―
"You're quite ambitious."
Einhart reacted.
"I'm flattered."
William bowed to Einhart.
"Hmm, indeed, for opportunities, Arcland might be the choice, and overall, Arcadia. ――Oh, sorry for all the questions. Don't let the meal get cold. Go ahead, eat."
It seemed the barrage of questions was over for now, as Roland suggested returning to the meal. William nodded in acknowledgment, and everyone present began to focus on their food.
"Ah, may I ask one last thing?"
"...?"
William, who had been inwardly relieved, was caught off guard by Roland's timing.
"For an ambitious man like you, Carl must be in the way, right?"
The atmosphere froze in an instant. Carl stood up abruptly.
"...What are you saying?"
William was at a loss for words. Naturally, he couldn't possibly agree in this situation. Offending Carl was inevitable. As a result, it would be easy for Carl, the son of a noble, to dispose of a lone foreigner.
"Ah, don't mind me. I just don't particularly like the idea of Carl going to the battlefield. As I mentioned earlier, Einhart, the eldest brother, is a scholar and won't inherit the family headship. Carl must inherit the Taylor family headship. I want him to learn about the business we're running, and if he's going to give up, it's better to do it sooner."
Carl tried to glare at his father, but Roland, with a much sharper gaze, silenced him without a word. He was indeed extraordinary.
"Carl lacks martial talent; that much is clear. Let's end the fantasy here. My son trusts you. Your words might wake him up. Could you convince him to give up?"
Carl looked at William with pleading eyes. William swallowed hard.
This was a very difficult situation. If he sided with Carl, Roland would be displeased, and if he sided with Roland, Carl would be displeased. The power dynamic was clearly in Roland's favor. It would be proper to follow Roland's will.
'But resentment will remain. The trust that Carl feels for me now will crumble, and when it turns to hatred, the mistake I've made will become a deep wound―'
William had made a mistake. He had almost abandoned Carl. Carl says he doesn't mind now, but betrayal would inevitably change his feelings. The more he’s trusted, the more intense the anger could become.
'Do I even need to side with Roland? If he had really wanted to pull Carl from the battlefield, he wouldn't care about my opinion. It could all be just for show… Well, that's just conjecture. Either way, I'll be going against one of them!'
William glanced at Carl for just a moment. Carl was looking down, biting his lip, clenching his fists, trembling, and looking frustrated. He understood that he lacked talent. He had come to realize that by stepping onto the battlefield―
William let out a sigh as if to confirm, 'Is this okay?'
"Master Carl is―"
Carl flinched in response. Roland calmly fixed his gaze on William.
William―
"Master Carl is, no, Carl is... essential to me!"
He made up his mind. He would stand by Carl.
"I tried to betray Carl when I didn't know he was the son of a noble. On the battlefield, when I had no room to spare, and many comrades were in danger, I hesitated whether to save only Carl. I even looked away once. In the end, I saved him. But still, the fact that I tried to abandon Carl, that I hesitated, is an undeniable truth."
The sudden confession surprised Einhart and Rutgard, and even Roland's eyes widened.
"Carl called me a friend. He forgave me, this foolish man who almost abandoned him, a foreigner, a third-class citizen, and even called me a friend. Carl is an irreplaceable friend to me. The first bond I've made in this country."
Carl was the most surprised of all to hear William's confession. William continued, not giving anyone time to think.
"Indeed, Carl may lack martial talent. But I believe he has a greater power. The power to attract people, to draw them in, to gain trust. That power may not be useful for a common soldier. But what if he led people? What if he stood above others? It would probably be a power greater than any other. Therefore, I believe Carl is necessary for me."
William stated his case. Whether this route was correct, he honestly wasn't sure. Whether siding with Carl was the right answer, whether he should have sided with Roland, or whether he should’ve been so open in the first place, he didn't know. But it wasn't a situation to be brushed off lightly. Roland von Taylor was not so lenient.
"But dying as a common soldier is meaningless."
Roland's words pierced William like ice.
"I will protect him, no matter what. For my homeland, and above all, for this friendship, I will see it through."
At this point, even if it meant death, he would stand by Carl. If he incurred displeasure, he could just escape from the mansion. Being close to the door, he could run. He remembered the way he came. He had already planned an escape route out of the country if necessary. At worst, he could just get covered in filth.
"Father!"
Carl's voice echoed in the room. Roland shifted his cold gaze from William to Carl.
"?!"
Carl had hardly ever defied his parents. He had never experienced such a cold gaze from his father before. Yet,
"I, I am indeed weak now. I learned the reality on the battlefield. I am weak. That's an unchangeable fact. But, I feel that if I'm with William, I can become strong. I want to become strong, to stand shoulder to shoulder with him. To be a man who can proudly say he's my best friend. So I can't run away now! For the friendship that William said he needed!"
For the first time, Carl defied his father. It was a serious act of defiance, not the whimsical tantrums of a child seeking indulgence. Einhart, his brother, was taken aback, for such a bold retort was unimaginable from the usual Carl.
"...Hmm. You've got me there. I wasn't quite that serious."
Roland's gaze had softened before anyone noticed, the cold stare now a distant memory, replaced by his usual demeanor.
"Very well, do as you please. And William, I apologize for involving you in our family squabbles. But I'm glad we had this talk. Thank you for becoming friends with Carl."
Carl blushed and glanced at William, who awkwardly averted his eyes, which only made Carl's expression grow happier.
"Just give a little thought to the family business, too. The company employs quite a few workers, so keep in mind not to leave them stranded, Carl. And promise me one thing: don't die, okay?"
"Yes, Father!"
Carl's response seemed to satisfy Roland, who then turned his gaze to everyone present.
"My apologies for all this. Now, let's resume our meal before the nanny scolds us for letting it get cold."
With that, Roland signaled, and the meal resumed, albeit a bit awkwardly.
The strange atmosphere lingered until the end, and William still couldn't taste his food.
༺༻
"Then use this room."
After dinner, Carl led William to a corner room on the second floor.
"Thank you, Carl."
William offered a handshake, which Carl returned with a pleased smile.
"Don't mention it, William."
Their friendship was affirmed. A mere acquaintance wouldn't oppose the head of the household. It was unthinkable for someone to speak up for Carl, who was nothing more than a second son. It was precisely because it was unthinkable that this friendship became a certainty for both of them.
"See you tomorrow, then."
"Yes, see you tomorrow."
Their firmly clasped hands slowly parted. They both cast lingering glances at the spot where their hands had met. Noticing this, Carl grinned, and William gave a wry smile.
"Good night, William."
"Good night, Carl."
The two parted ways. Carl looked back several times, waving his hand.
William waved back lightly as he entered the room assigned to him.
With his back to the door, William let out a long sigh.
"Did I survive that?"
The sweat dried, leaving a cold sensation seeping down his back.
"The next room is unoccupied. Since it's a corner room, I don't have to worry about one side. That should be good enough for me."
Exhaustion hit William all at once, and his face showed a weariness he would never reveal in public. He staggered toward the bed and collapsed onto it.
"Damn, this is more tiring than the battlefield."
His curse lacked its usual force.
"Nobles... are they all such bastards?"
William recalled Roland's probing gaze and their exchange. In hindsight, it seemed every conversation had been a test to measure William. The difference in experience was stark; the people he had encountered before were of a different caliber.
"So he's a fifth-rank baron, huh?"
The ranks above felt far out of reach.
"...Hm?"
He heard footsteps on the distant staircase, approaching and stopping in front of the door.
"..."
William sat up and glared at the door.
"There's no need to open the door, William."
It was Roland's voice, heightening the tension.
"You're very clever. Choosing between me or Carl at that moment... No, even before that, you've been selecting your words and your actions, they were all the optimal solutions. Clever, very clever. But perhaps too clever, huh?"
William was speechless. Who was this person beyond the door? This was unlike any encounter he had experienced before.
"I don't know what you're thinking, coming to this country. I'll take your earlier excuses with a grain of salt, but I'm not naive enough to believe them. Right? Someone as smart, strong, and capable as you wouldn't need to change countries or lower themselves to a foreigner's status. Taking such a risky and illogical path to raise your name in another country doesn't make sense."
A chill ran down his skin, reminiscent of the tension faced when confronting Kyle in battle.
"So, I don't believe your story."
William continued to stare at the door, forgetting even to breathe.
"However, I acknowledge your excellence. As long as you and Carl remain 'friends,' I think you and I can get along."
William gritted his teeth. Everything had been seen through. The farce earlier, its meaning―
"Please be good to Carl. He's very kind and pure. I sincerely hope you won't betray him. Ah, I really don't want to become your enemy."
The opponent was too skilled. William was outmatched. The only thing he had managed to protect was the lie of "William." Everything else had been laid bare.
"Sorry to trouble you with an old man's ramblings. You must be tired. Rest well."
The presence faded from the door.
William collapsed onto the bed again.
"Ah, damn. I can't win this."
Despite his exhaustion, a smile crept onto his face.
"How formidable, Lord Taylor."
William had acted cautiously, but Roland must have seen right through him. To Roland, William's actions must have seemed utterly ridiculous.
'The little act I put on for Carl was pointless. No, maybe it meant something to Carl.'
The exchange that had elevated Carl. It had earned Carl's trust, but how it appeared to Roland was frightening. But―
'In other words, as long as I protect Carl, as long as I'm useful to the Taylor family, they'll turn a blind eye, right? My little act didn't interest him; he just wanted to hear me say I'd protect Carl.'
War is a spectacle even for nobles. If their own sons excel, it changes how they’re perceived by others. William didn't know what Roland was thinking, but he had certainly established a win-win relationship.
'Well, it's not a bad deal for me. The incident where I almost abandoned him won't be pursued anymore, and for a foreigner like me, the protection of nobility is welcome. I might as well make the most of it.'
The main reason William had sided with Carl was that Carl possessed elements necessary for William's own ascent. The worldly wisdom learned in Laconia, the things William lacked, were supplemented by Carl. It wasn't a lie, and perhaps that's why Roland had acknowledged it. It was a win-win, mutually beneficial, and that's what was believed. That was all.
'I may have lost today, but one day, I'll surely win.'
William reached toward the ceiling, for now, he would just reach for the ceiling of this house.
Reaching for the heavens would come later.