After ten days of travel, Rotsard's carriage arrived at its destination.
Just as bleached-blond-haired youth informed the red-haired Vicas, it was not Vallhall territory. In fact, it was a place almost on the opposite side of the kingdom from Rotsard's home.
And it wasn't a city or even a town, but rather a small and quaint village.
The place wasn't the wealthiest, even one look could tell anyone that much, but it was clean, and it was obvious that the villagers took good care of their surroundings.
At first glance, a clear sign of great administration and proper protection from the noble family ruling the territory, being rewarded with the loyalty of their subjects.
There were children running around laughing, and even the barking of dogs as the carriage passed them sounded more playful than hostile.
The carriage with the Vallhall family crest, even though it was not escorted as was an obligation for the visiting nobles, became the center of attention, and to further reinforce Rotsard's opinion about how well treated the villagers were, instead of hiding away in their homes, everyone came outside and hurried after to check whether the carriage would stop, or was it just passing by.
"..."
As far as Rotsard could tell, there was no fear or even worry in their faces, only curiosity and… hope…?
That last one confused the youth, and he shook his head, believing that he was simply mistaken and imagined that particular emotion.
As the carriage stopped in the center of the village, the villagers gathered around, keeping a respectful distance. Everyone gathered, even those working the fields have dropped their tools and come running, and waited.
"..."
Rotsard gulped down his saliva, feeling as if someone reached into his chest and grabbed his heart, slowly crushing it.
He glanced over at the opposite seat, hiding the remains, and his chin trembled, but the youth closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, trying to compose himself as he reached out towards the door.
"....they're commoners, not peasants… they're commoners, not peasants… they're…"
Seeing his hand shaking even before he touched it, though, made him mutter under his breath.
He had to keep reminding himself that he wasn't a terrified six-year-old anymore, and the peasants… No... and the commoners surrounding the carriage weren't the peasants who murdered his mother and were looking for him to finish the job.
Those people outside… were they aware how close to death they were?
Were they aware that even a cornered rat will start fighting back?
Were they aware of how terrifyingly strong the little boy, hidden away by his mother and forced to powerlessly listen to her dying screams, had become?
|Wait, no… No, no, no, no…! That's not it!|
Of course they don't! They don't have ANY bad intentions to start with!
"You're here to put Miss Commoner to rest. It's for Miss Commoner…"
Rotsard started breathing in and out, calming his breath and actually opening the door to step outside.
"..."
And as he did, he saw all the commoners kneeling down and lowering their heads as it was customary, with children and the elderly being helped by the adults.
No hostility in sight.
"...haah…"
Rotsard felt the crushing sensation in his heart easing up, and he couldn't stop a relieved sigh from escaping his mouth.
As he looked around, it was easy to spot the representative of the village, an almost completely bald man with some remains of gray hair, slouching heavily under the burden of his age with wrinkles to show for it. He was not only supporting himself on a thick cane but was also supported from the sides by two other villagers. Possibly his children, judging by their age.
That man had a specific aura, something that Rotsard could not quite identify, but something about him seemed to ease his fears… Or maybe it was something about his smell? Why was it… almost nostalgic in a way…? Or was it the whole village…?
All the while Rotsard hesitated, the village remained silent and still as was customary. Those of the common birth could not address a noble without being spoken to first, with just a handful of exceptions.
"I'm here with a private matter. Be at ease."
"Of course, of course! Our humble village welcomes…"
Rotsad swallowed his saliva and spoke up, doing his best so that his voice would not shake. In response, only the old man, who the youth already figured out was the representative, spoke and looked up.
"...!"
"!?"
The moment he saw Rotsard's face, he got choked up, and his eyes bulged out, causing the youth to flinch as the crushing feeling in his chest returned.
*thump*
"Y… Young Master…?!"
"?"
The old man dropped his cane, that made a shockingly loud sound as it hit the ground, and gasped, his eyes filling with nostalgic tears, causing Rotsard to freeze up.
Was Rotsard being mistaken for someone else?
The crest of the Vallhall family was right on the door of the carriage behind him, so even if it wasn't recognized for whom it belonged to, it should be obvious even to commoners that it belonged to the nobles of another part of Nordensthele.
The mistake shouldn't hap…
"Could it possibly be...? Y-Young Master Rotsard…!? I-is that you…?!"
"!!!"
But the next words spoken by the old man shattered those doubts as he directly named Rotsard, moved to tears that he even tried to stand up and approached the bleached-blond-haired youth.
"F-father! Don't!"
"Father-in-law! You're making things difficult for our Young Master!"
"?!?!"
To make things more confusing for Rotsard, the two villagers supporting the elder instantly hold back the old man, shaking their heads and shaking their heads.
But at least the woman sounded as if she knew and recognized Rotsard too…!
"...!"
As the other villagers began to fidget and even whisper amongst each other, Rotsard looked around, startled.
Was… was that some kind of trick?
It must have been, this… this…!
"See?! You're making things difficult for the Young Master! Honey, take your father back home. Young Master said he's here for a private matter, so let me handle it. Everyone, get back to your duties!"
The woman supporting the elder noticed Rotsard's behavior and scoffed towards the crowd before turning to her husband and father-in-law, instructing both, and then called back to the crowd.
"Of course, with your permission, Young Master."
She hurriedly looked back at Rotsard and added while lowering her head apologetically.
"O-of course."
Rotsard cleared his throat and nodded, although his hesitation was obvious. Still, with his word spoken, all the villagers stood up and moved back to whatever they were doing before.
Well, with the exception of children who attempted to start playing again, but were too curious and kept looking over with great interest and curiosity.
…and with the dispersion of the crowd, so did the crushing sensation in Rotsard's chest…