My Youngest Keeps Bringing Home Male Leads - Chapter 38

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 38
Once again, Alfred fell silent, as if at a loss for words.
Agnes offered a light jest.
“Isn’t it a butler’s virtue to anticipate his master’s wishes and act accordingly?”
“That may be so, but… our fiefdom is quite modest in size, and it’s a subject I’ve genuinely never considered before.”
“You’re right. We don’t have the fertile, expansive lands that Valdemar or Laenheim possess. I realized that if we only grow crops, we’ll keep repeating the same struggles.”
“Do you have a specific plan in mind?”
“Not yet. But after visiting the Valdemar estate and traveling to Calburn City, I think I’ve begun to see what makes our territory unique.”
“And what is that?”
“A quiet, remote little village. Beautiful scenery with gentle rolling hills. And proximity to Calburn City.”
“But how would that help? Being near Calburn City means we can’t sell goods there, and unlike Calburn City, we don’t have a major river junction to leverage.”
“True, but we are close to Calburn City. The river runs toward it from here.”
Agnes recalled the day she’d gone to Calburn City to hire workers.
Every alley had been packed with people.
The substantial fee she’d had to pay at the high-class inn.
Behind the streets lined with fine inns lay rows of lodgings for merchants and commoners, all teeming with guests.
But the alleys leading into those areas were narrow and filthy.
“What if people preferred staying in our territory over lodging in Calburn City itself?”
“It’s a fair thought.”
Though he seemed to concede the point, Alfred didn’t sound entirely convinced.
“People won’t travel to our fiefdom simply for cheap, comfortable rest. They flock to cities because there are things to enjoy there.”
“So my thinking alone isn’t enough.”
“Correct. There would need to be a compelling reason—something unique—that draws them here.”
That was the hardest problem to solve.
“Of course, I do think it’s a good idea. If matters unfold as you envision, the villagers would certainly live more comfortably.”
Agnes decided to sit with the notion a while longer and brought the conversation to a close.
Stepping outside, she found the garden bathed in warm sunlight.
What had once been a ruin was now thoroughly transformed.
The tangled weeds and overgrown branches had been cleared away, and newly planted shrubs were displaying their fresh green leaves throughout the space.
Compared to how it had looked not long ago, it seemed like an entirely different place.
‘I wonder how Silmare is faring.’
The sight of blossoms just beginning to open brought Silmare to mind.
Looking back, barely a week had passed.
‘It feels as though the Duke and Silmare have been away far longer.’
It was strange.
When she’d first met them, she never could have imagined that such people would remain at her side, let alone that she’d come to think of it as natural.
Yet now, despite their absence, she found herself trusting that they would return, that they would always be there to help her—though she couldn’t explain why.
Of course, it would never last forever.
Their paths diverged; parting was inevitable.
Strangely, the moment she accepted this, it felt as though something had been torn from her chest.
Though ever since losing her mother, she had forced herself to accept that separations were beyond her control—something she’d buried deep in her heart.
As she entered the back garden, she found Ignitan already there, helping with the work.
The laborers were just finishing the roof repairs.
Ignitan was steadying the ladder as the workers climbed toward the roofline.
“Ignitan.”
At her call, he turned to look at her.
His eyes, dark as rough bark, still seemed utterly expressionless.
And yet there appeared to be something subtly warmer in their hue.
“I’m truly grateful for everything. You’ve been such tremendous help.”
“Your body—is it well?”
“Yes, quite well. Thanks to the proper rest, I feel refreshed.”
Just days ago, she’d chattered freely in front of him.
Now, strangely, words wouldn’t come.
Feeling awkward, Agnes fidgeted with her hands, smoothing down her dress, and tilted her gaze upward toward the end of the ladder.
“You’ve kept helping since then? That must be troublesome.”
“Not particularly. I had nothing else to do.”
“Now that you mention it—are you sure you’re all right? You uprooted several large trees and extinguished the fire, after all.”
“I’m fine.”
“Even for a giant, wounds are still wounds, aren’t they? Surely that’s true?”
“If they weren’t, we wouldn’t have been driven beyond the Flame Mountain Range.”
“I’m sorry?”
She’d meant it as a question, but Ignitan offered nothing more.
As Agnes turned the matter over in her mind, she wondered if he’d been referring to Roberto Cardiam’s Inviolable Treaty.
Human history spoke of resolving conflict through mutual respect—different races honoring each other’s domains. But perhaps it carried a different meaning for giants.
With such formidable power at his command, the word “expelled” made no sense to her.
How could fragile humanity have driven back the giants?
She wanted to ask, but something about it felt too raw, too tender to broach.
When Agnes fell silent, Ignitan glanced toward her, studying her face.
His gaze wavered as if he were wrestling with something, then fixed itself on a stretch of unremarkable stone wall.
He pressed his lips together firmly, then gave a low, measured cough.
“That said, I hold no ill will toward you.”
The unexpected words caught Agnes off guard, and Ignitan met her astonishment with a steady gaze.
“So you needn’t hesitate to ask for my help whenever you need it. Aiding you is my purpose.”
In that moment, Agnes understood that Ignitan, in his own way, was looking out for her.
Something like laughter welled up inside her, and she tilted her head, meeting his eyes.
“When I look at you, I find myself curious about the other giants.”
“Why is that?”
“Just a feeling. I imagine they must be warm-hearted like you.”
“Don’t count on it. There are cruel ones among us.”
“Of course. I’m not a child. I don’t believe in everyone indiscriminately.”
She spoke with playfulness and smiled, and his mouth seemed to lift slightly at the corners.
But it was so faint and fleeting that she couldn’t be certain.
Late afternoon.
Gallus, the master of the Brook Merchant Guild whom Kesenor had introduced before, came to call.
Agnes placed an order with him for materials to build a new storehouse in the village.
But what commanded her closer attention was the furniture and toys to be placed in Amy’s room.
As she pored over the carefully illustrated product descriptions for some time, Gallus smiled and remarked,
“You seem to hold your sister in great affection.”
“I do. I practically raised her.”
“I’ve heard as much through rumor. There are quite a few people curious about you these days—they’ve pestered me with questions more than I’d care to admit.”
“Is that so? What do they wish to know?”
“I hardly think it necessary to repeat their gossip, but the chief matter of their curiosity concerns the funds you possess.”
Agnes gave a bitter smile.
“Some mad souls claim they’d throw themselves into a rift if one opened.”
“Not knowing what waits for them there.”
“They think that if a young lady survived it, surely they could as well.”
If such people actually appeared, it would be troublesome indeed.
‘When Amy comes back, won’t all hell break loose?’
According to Kesenor, what she’d brought back wasn’t from a rift but rather from slaying a Dragon—a creature whose very existence was uncertain, let alone its location.
Even so, the thought of Amy’s return made her uneasy about the prospects for a peaceful life ahead.
“In any case, prepare everything as discussed.”
“Of course. We’re grateful for entrusting us with this commission once again.”
“Can you have it ready as soon as possible?”
“Since everything must be newly crafted, it will require some time, but I’ll press the artisans to move as quickly as they can.”
“Very well. I trust you.”
That evening, the table was laid with abundance for Agnes to enjoy a proper meal for the first time in a while.
There was fragrant mushroom soup and well-roasted lamb, alongside roasted vegetables and fruit glazed with honey, while on one side sat golden bread and richly flavored cheese.
Everyone in the mansion gathered around the table to share the meal.
As Agnes watched the faces of those assembled, illuminated by the flickering candles, she found herself tracing the source of the warmth that kept trembling in her heart.
Before her mother passed.
Evenings when the whole family sat down together, laughter and conversation flowing freely, those childhood days when they shared simple but abundant food.
Over the scene before her now, that memory overlaid itself.
Yet all those who’d sat with her then were absent from this place.
Her mother and father, her mischievous younger siblings, and even Rupert.
As Agnes called their beloved faces to mind, she let slip this dreamlike sense of déjà vu with a pang of loss.
* * *
It had been quite some time since Elizabeth and Edmund left Laberose Mansion and stayed in Calburn City.
At sixteen, Elizabeth wasn’t so foolish as to squander the money her sister had given her recklessly.
Of course, at first she’d enjoyed good food and stayed at nice lodgings.
But that had only lasted a time or two.
She’d learned well enough how precious money was once the family fortune began to crumble.
A life where even the small things she’d once taken for granted had to be surrendered.
If she spent the money her sister had given her recklessly, she’d have to crawl back home looking pathetic.
And then her sister would look down at her with that cold expression—the one that said *I knew you would.*
‘I’d absolutely hate that.’
Just thinking about it stung her pride.
‘So I have to do something. Anything.’

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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