Blue Advisory! (5)

The Empress and her family, dressed quite comfortably, were pestering me to guide them around the fief.

“So this is where that liquor is brewed?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. This is where we ferment medicinal herbs into liquor.”

“You said herbs from the Forest of the Demon Dragon are used?”

“Yes. We recently accepted the beastkin as subjects, and through them we’ve been able to gather many herbs that grow in the Forest of the Demon Dragon. With what remains after sending Her Highness the Princess’s allotment, we began brewing.”

“I thought you were talented and recommended you come here—but this is truly astonishing.”

In truth, they had sent me here so the noble faction wouldn’t get their hands on me and use me—but the Empress said something odd. Still, since it turned out well for me, I let it go with “all’s well that ends well.”

No—more accurately, I simply lacked the power to protest.

I resolved that if I could one day put force behind my words, I would no longer be pushed around.

“Our sudden visit this time was partly for the liquor… and partly for the medicine you sent. It would be proper to summon you to court, but we also needed rest—thus we came in person.”

“This fief is dangerous.”

“It is fine. With the two knight orders that came with me, even the Sain Tribe who became your subjects will not be able to cause trouble.”

It seemed likely that Princess Riana had been feeding my information straight to the Empress. Unlike the princess, the Empress was not light. Every word, every step, had purpose and intent.

I reminded myself to be careful and asked:

“I only spoke out of concern.”

“Besides the liquor sent to us, is there anything else?”

“Do you enjoy drink?”

“If it is good, I partake from time to time—my consort as well. Our daily lives are tedious and slow, and yet when we look back, the years have flown. At such times, one’s hobby can become drink. We mostly drink wine… but this liquor let us experience a new world.”

It was unusual—the Empress spoke at length. The Emperor beside her nodded vigorously in agreement.

Only Princess Riana listened demurely to her parents.

From what I’d seen, the one who liked liquor most might actually have been Princess Riana—but that didn’t feel like a secret to blurt out, so I kept quiet and spoke.

I intended to reveal one of the liquors I had saved for myself.

“I do have one cask. To age it for a long time, I also put it through a separate distillation process, but…”

Seeing the three of them sparkle at the word “distillation,” I couldn’t help but chuckle. As we headed toward the casks, with the nobles trailing after me, I thought my life was strangely fated. In the innermost cellar were only two casks; I approached one and said:

“This is it. I even gave it a name, though it may sound unfamiliar.”

“What name?”

“Ingrad ‘rum.’”

“Rum?”

The imperial family tilted their heads in puzzlement, so to explain how it got that name, I pried the lid open with a crowbar—eyes watering at the thought of parting with it—and at that moment the aroma that spread through the cellar made their pupils tremble.

Even the knights who had come in as security were astonished—and there was one oddity.

“By the way, is Lady Agnes not coming?”

“She has business…”

At the Empress’s words, Princess Riana’s expression darkened. I wondered if the princess had gotten into trouble and felt the mood turn awkward—but it didn’t last long.

I had scooped some liquor into the tasting glasses I’d prepared and offered them to the Empress and Emperor.

Like examining wine, the Empress and Emperor first swirled the liquor.

“There’s almost no color—this is the first time I’ve seen liquor like this.”

Distilled spirits themselves were rare here, and because of the very high proof, they were commonly used as lamp and experiment fuel rather than as drink.

But this “rum” was different. Despite distillation, a peculiar portion of flavor and bouquet remained.

I didn’t know the exact reason; if I had to guess, I’d say it was “mana.”

In any case, they checked the color and took in the aroma.

The clear, distinctive fragrance of herbs was inevitable. The aroma from the cask beside us was heady enough to make one feel tipsy even now, but regardless, the two of them tossed the rum back.

They exchanged a startled look, swallowed, then looked at me and let out a “krrr…”—and in that instant, thinking something was wrong, the knights all drew their swords, only to be stayed by the Emperor:

“An astounding liquor… tremendously strong… fuu… it burns as if my insides will char, yet this sweetness and flavor— it’s so splendid it makes me forget the burn!”

“Fuuuu…”

The Empress too exhaled deeply, hand over her chest as if her insides were aflame, and I said to the imperial family:

“This liquor is at least five times stronger than typical wines. With aging, it will gain deeper flavor and complexity. As a minimum… I’d say about one year.”

“So it must be kept long. I’ve seen no liquor other than wine aged that long.”

“There are many kinds of liquor. Among those treated as cheap, there are many you let rest a long while before drinking.”

And on distilled spirits—there was something the technician had said.

Generally, the reason to distill liquor was because cheap liquor was cloudy; people distilled to drink it in a clearer state. The perception here was different.

“Even so, most are dull in taste. I have tasted so many that it is no exaggeration to say I have tasted them all, and yet a liquor with such clean taste and profile as this ‘rum’ thou hast made… I have not.”

Praise from the one called the apex of the Empire— and the knights she brought all began to look at me with envious eyes.

As if to say, “Can I have some too?”

Their faces said it. Regretful though I was, for the sake of “word of mouth,” I asked the Empress:

“What if we give a small cup to each of your escort knights—within reason—so they can evaluate it as well?”

“…Thou art a truly shrewd man.”

The Empress understood my intent at once but nodded with a pleased expression. It showed how well she treated her knights.

They guarded her life; of course she treated them well. Otherwise, I mused, away from power she might be a different person entirely.

At any rate, the knights each received a cup of rum. They first frowned at the small pour, then bravely tossed it back—and immediately understood why the pour was small.

Most reacted like the Empress.

“Krrr,” or “fuuuuu,” and so on—and amusingly, those who had one cup looked at me with eyes begging a second.

But the Empress, unwilling to concede more, glanced around and declared:

“This ‘rum’ is special. It shall be counted in the Empire’s history as the liquor of the Imperial House!”

It seemed sudden, but I later learned the underlying intent.

She made it, literally, an imperial-exclusive liquor. Only royals may drink it. The maker—me—was exempt from the proclamation; I could recognize recipients or gift it, but specifically for this “rum,” I was forbidden to sell it anywhere outside the Imperial House.

It was absurd—but amusingly, the Imperial House then offered to pay one hundred large gold coins per bottle for this rum.

The amount made no sense—but later I found myself shouting:

“Eureka!!”

It was a liquor I’d crafted specially for my own palate—and now it could make money too. How delightful.

Only, the freshly opened cask was to be re-sealed and taken with the imperial family upon departure, so I had to bid the rum farewell.

“I’ll just make more.”

The hard work wasn’t mine anyway—it would be the technicians’. I allowed myself that comforting thought.

For several days, I was dragged here and there showing the changes in Ingrad, and the Empress was most astonished by the expressions of the slaves.

In this world, slaves normally wore the face of “I feel like dying.” But here, she was surprised to find not a single slave with such an expression, and asked why.

My answer was full of half-truths… first regarding working hours.

“I follow a principle I call ‘efficiency.’ On average we have them work fifteen hours. Compared to other fiefs, we add three hours’ rest, giving them minimum recovery time, and for slaves with heavy accumulated fatigue, we give a fatigue-recovery potion to clear the backlog and sustain output.”

First, to avoid other fiefs’ backlash, I did not say we had them work only ten hours.

And…

“During rest, we allow them to roam freely within designated zones.”

The second thing I omitted was that I openly told them it was fine to escape.

“Lastly, we provide at least a minimum level of nutrition.”

I didn’t say we fed them until they were stuffed. If someone in the same station learned slaves elsewhere were treated well, they might become resentful and jealous, fall into despair, and take their own lives.

If their owner later learned and came to accuse me, it wouldn’t be my fault per se—but a dispute would arise.

Then relations would sour, and that would cause various potential problems.

Hadn’t there been times in medieval Europe when slaves, seeing slaves in other regions treated better, demanded improved treatment, rebelled, killed their masters, and sang of “liberation”? Knowing such things from history, a bit of glossing was essential.

I doubted this place would be different in those small but crucial ways.

“Thou takest considerable loss to treat them as ‘human.’ Admirable. I should recommend this to the landed nobles in due time. ‘Efficiency,’ thou called it?”

Remembering how the Empress never missed even an offhand phrase, I shivered—but they had already departed, so I turned to Beni and said:

“Put everything back to how it was!”

Only later did I realize how enraptured the Empress had been with what I’d called “efficiency.”