What Makes A Good Lord? (2)

In the afternoon, I returned to the manor and began thinking through the medicinal stockpiles we should keep on hand.

“Hmm, for an emergency cabinet… first, wound-healing salves and antidotes, then medicines for common illnesses?”

I listed what we needed on paper, then considered fatigue restoratives, burn remedies, and health supplements that the maids and Vincent could take from time to time.

But looking at the list, it clearly went far beyond an emergency kit.

‘I need to simplify. I’ll just manufacture and distribute the supplements, and keep only the core medicines on hand.’

Since, aside from two of us here, everyone was a woman, I also thought it would help to distribute remedies for skincare and complexion.

There was Tiger’s Fang Grass in the domain, and I’d heard it grew abundantly in the Forest of the Demon Dragon. I planned to ask the beastkin to gather it in bulk.

After separating “needed” versus “already stocked” ingredients, I organized what we had and prepared to compound.

Grinding and pan-roasting by hand for the first time in a while felt oddly tedious and tiring.

“Wow… guess I got used to easier methods.”

Admitting that my body had become spoiled, I grabbed the list and one sample of each herb and stepped out of the manor.

As usual, I visited the beastkin who handled ingredient prep and asked them to ready specific herbs. Hirna, curiosity written all over her face, asked:

“Yesterday, Hare suddenly went home. Did something happen? I thought there was more to look into.”

“I clarified the key points. She wanted to return, so I let her. Is Hare all right?”

“She said she went out hunting at dawn.”

“I see. Oh—can beastkin catch colds?”

Hirna considered it, then nodded.

“They can, but not often. Mostly children. As adults, we might catch one every few years at most.”

‘Lucky constitutions…’

I felt a flash of envy. Still, since they could catch colds, I decided to prepare a cold remedy for them. It wouldn’t cure colds—just prevent and ease symptoms—but even that would help hardy beastkin, and humans here had no prior exposure to such medicine, so it should be effective at first. I pressed on with my plan.

I left the prep to the beastkin and next met those who foraged outside.

“Debik, could you gather Tiger’s Fang Grass? In quantity, if possible.”

“Tiger’s Fang Grass? Why that weed?”

“It’s a legitimate medicinal herb. I need it—and lots of it.”

“…Not hard. If the lord wants it, I’ll bring it. By the way, Gamung was looking for you. You missed him?”

So Gamung was finally seeking me.

“For the baby’s name?”

“Must be. You did something big.”

“Honestly, I don’t think it was something I should have been able to do…”

“You saved a life. Be proud.”

“All right, then. Please bring as much as you can by tomorrow or the next day.”

Debik grumbled—what’s he using that weed for—but he always brought what I asked for.

After we spoke, I saw Jorban heading out with his seventeen children for a walk. I approached and greeted him.

“Another walk today?”

“Staying safe at home is good, but getting fresh air is better. And after a walk, the little ones sleep much more soundly.”

True enough. I offered one tip:

“It’d help to ventilate the house well. With so many people, the air can get stale.”

“Good point. Thank you.”

Just then, a woman stepped out the door—Jorban’s wife, Silban.

“Silban! It’s been a while!”

I recalled she rarely went out because she was brooding eggs; today she had come outside.

“My lord? How have you been?”

“I’m always fine. But what brings husband and wife out together today?”

“My husband asked me to exercise with him.”

Exercise—right. Brooding meant hunching over and constantly tending warmth.

“That’s good. The child is important, but your own health comes first. Any discomfort or recent fatigue?”

“There is, but it’s the usual chronic strain from childrearing…”

“In that case, try this.”

I took a fatigue restorative from my subspace pouch and handed it to her. She swallowed it without hesitation.

She looked at me in surprise and asked what it was.

“A fatigue restorative. Not ideal to take at night, but since you don’t sleep well even then, I thought helping your recovery would be better. Is it all right?”

“Thank you.”

We strolled the area together, chatting with Silban, Jorban, and the children—until the brush ahead rustled and Gamung emerged.

Being Tigerfolk, his presence alone frightened the bird-children. I excused myself and walked over to where Gamung waited.

“You’re hard to find, lord. Why are you always so busy?”

“I wish I weren’t, but living conditions are harsh; that keeps me busy. You’re here about the baby’s name?”

He nodded, so I asked another question.

“Why me? It’s your own child—shouldn’t you name him? Isn’t naming sacred?”

“It is sacred. But they told me my son should have died. In such cases, most do die. My mother told me so. That is why I decided.”

So he lived with his mother. A face flashed in my mind—the woman who had taken the baby deftly. I asked; he confirmed she was indeed his mother.

He said he had searched for me not long after I left in a daze that day—but I’d been too busy to see him.

“Come with me now.”

“I refuse. It’s nearly evening; I need to get back. I have people waiting for me too. The name is important, but I’ll come to your settlement tomorrow.”

“If you’ll do that, I’m grateful. Understood. Jorban, Silban—sorry for scaring the little ones.”

He vanished faster than he’d come. Jorban and Silban smiled awkwardly, while the children chattered about how scared they’d been—endearingly.

But, as I’d told Gamung, it was time for me to return. I excused myself and headed back to the manor, where I had to see off Hirna’s team as they finished and reported that all requested herbs had been sorted and moved to the workshop.

After a busy day, I dined with the maids. A few watched me nervously.

“What is it?”

I couldn’t ignore them. Beni, pale as a sheet, carefully spoke up:

“While cleaning a painting in the manor, I dropped it… and broke it.”

Everyone turned to her—some already knew. Vincent’s blank face told me he’d been informed.

“Ha… that…”

I wished I’d ordered all the art removed in the morning. Looking at Beni—perhaps because of my tone—she seemed about to choke from fear. She didn’t know the value of art, and manor furnishings belonged to the lord; fear of being made to pay was natural.

What to do… They all looked like they wouldn’t accept anything but ‘accountability.’

Those close to Beni watched with worry; others stared impassively. After a moment’s thought, I said:

“For now, Beni will take responsibility. But I won’t reduce anyone to slavery. Instead, because this must not be repeated, we’ll collect all artworks and paintings into one secured room and manage them centrally. Beni will be in charge. Agreed?”

“…You truly intend to end it at that?”

Vincent looked surprised. What had he expected? The other maids wore similar expressions. I continued:

“Even if I demanded compensation, the sums would be impossible anyway, right?”

“…True, but we could all pool money to repay it.”

“No need for the group to shoulder an individual’s mistake. In fact, if you’d done that, I’d have refused and placed heavier blame on Beni. We’ll discuss details later. For now, that’s the extent of her responsibility. Someone who makes one big mistake is unlikely to repeat the same one twice.”

I looked around at their complicated faces.

“Unlike other nobles, I won’t wave around my authority or exploit you. People make mistakes. But if the same thing happens again, I will be angry. Please be careful. And relax a little—wouldn’t it be a shame to spoil a good meal by getting indigestion?”

My last line was half in jest, but not everyone accepted it. Still, I intended to move on.

I had no interest in art. We had outsiders only about three days a month via Teleport—some merchants and the occasional noble. There was no need to display anything for anyone.

Since they still seemed unconvinced, I stood and added one more line:

“Beni, if you still feel unsettled… then render a bit of service for me.”

At my blunt words, Beni let out a short “Ah!” The complex looks on some of the maids’ faces told me they had the wrong idea, but I didn’t bother to explain.

By “service,” I meant working for me—yes, including night attendance. In short, I intended to ease Beni’s burden in my own way—desire playing a small part.

‘If her burden is eased—even like this—why not?’