Receiving Greetings

Translated by: ME

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*****

The frills and flounces of her outfit made Magnolia feel incredibly, utterly, and most painfully awkward.

Layer upon layer of stiff, heavy petticoats fanned out with an almost aggressive amount of pleating. Over them, a dress made of sheer, pale-cool-toned fabric layered and shifted like flower petals, revealing a complex depth of color.

(…This is it. This is a debut costume for a 1980s pop idol!)

It was exactly like the debut outfits worn by rookie idols on old music programs she’d seen on "Nostalgic Classics." Or perhaps like those Rococo-inspired rental costumes for children found in professional photo studios.

The reason her mind was wandering during her own important debut was simple. As soon as she had ascended the slightly elevated dais, Servas had not only stated the false reason for her delayed debut—that she had been of frail health—but had launched into a grand retelling of her move to Azenda, her discovery of Sailing Sickness, and her subsequent entrepreneurial ventures.

Furthermore, he spoke eloquently, as if reciting an epic tale, about her actions to improve the lives of the destitute, her planning and direction of urban redevelopment, and her bold challenge of educating the commoners.

To make matters worse, he interwove facts with what felt like fiction (?) regarding her work in plague prevention, resource recycling, and environmental sanitation (which, in her mind, was just a simple "waste not, want not" philosophy). Listening to it was excruciatingly embarrassing.

…Well, the main points weren't wrong; in fact, they were entirely true.

However, the way every detail was wrapped in a "shining, glorious aura" felt like it was gouging out Magnolia’s ears and heart. And the collective gaze of the audience only added to the agonizing sting.

(…Well, I suppose if he doesn't go that far, he can't scrub away the "flaw" of my hidden past. I just have to endure it for the sake of the Margrave’s house rather than myself.)

Good grief.
Magnolia’s internal "life bar" was flashing red. While her soul was withering inside, she kept her practiced smile firmly in place.

---

Despite the "shining aura," none of it was fiction to Servas and the others. They truly believed every word. Even though this world was somewhat more tolerant than similar eras on Earth, it was still a society defined by rigid social status.

To those watching, her actions—leaping across those class boundaries—were exactly as Servas described. However, there was an unbridgeable gap in perception between the people here and Magnolia, who had lived in a modern society with far more advanced ideals.

On the other hand, the assembled nobles were mentally gaping, their mouths figuratively hanging open.

(…Wait. Isn't he laying it on a bit thick…?)

Even if the rumors were wrong and she was indeed beautiful and well-bred, it was hard to believe she had actually managed businesses, identified a disease, established a treatment, and even participated in territorial administration. The person standing before them was a young girl who hadn't even entered the Academy yet.

True, there had been a proclamation a while back about the Margrave’s house leading a project with commoners to buy up surplus crops.

There had also been talk about building fertilizer sheds on parts of the farmland to assist with agriculture, and constructing workshops (fertilizer depots) near those and the watermills. There was even a request to commission a massive amount of work from local district artisans.

The timeline and details were all a jumble in their heads.
…That was the extent of their understanding.

To avoid accusations of coercion, an unprecedented number of confirmation requests had been sent to local magistrates and land-owning nobles in recent years.

But the sender was the Lord (or the Lord's family).
Essentially, unless the content was truly outrageous, the only possible answers were "Yes" or "Certainly."

While some might check the general overview if curious, most people didn't bother confirming fine details like which member of the Margrave’s house was in charge or how the project came to be.

Since it wasn't coming out of their own pockets, they figured it was too much trouble to ask questions and risk being seen as harboring resentment or a lack of cooperation.

Consequently, while a fair number of nobles had gone to greet the Margrave’s family when they heard a member was visiting their managed lands for inspection, or had visited during the very initial stages of work, none had cared to investigate the specifics.

Indeed, they had simply given their greetings to Servas or Claude, who had been acting as the leaders for Magnolia since she lacked a sense of local geography.

After that, they hadn't spared a thought for what the commoners were doing. Magnolia, dressed in simple clothes to issue directions so she wouldn't mind getting dirty, hadn't even registered in their sight. There were many commoner children at the worksites, after all. Even if one had an unusual hair color, few nobles would waste their attention on a group of "commoners," especially children.

For example, even if they had seen Magnolia and the others working from the window of a carriage… the eyes of a young lady headed to a tea party or the theater would have seen nothing but a peaceful, generic landscape.

A young nobleman out for a long ride would have seen nothing but the familiar pastoral scenery.

And so, exactly as the Margrave’s family intended, Magnolia had been able to operate almost entirely freely for two years.

---

Just when she thought she was finally being released from this agonizing public display, she was ushered into a seat on the dais to receive formal congratulations and blessings from the guests. It was exactly like that setup she’d seen in movies—the "King sitting on the throne receiving an audience."

(You’ve got to be kidding me,) she thought, but it seemed quite real.

Dean, wearing a servant’s livery while carrying drinks, occasionally shot Magnolia a smirking glance.

(…Lately, I feel like that boy is being far too influenced by Gai…)

Thinking of the face of Gai—who was supposed to be blending in as a servant as well since Servas and Claude were acting as her "guards" today—she clicked her tongue inwardly.

He was undoubtedly watching from somewhere, wearing that same smirk.

(Damn it! I want to punch that smirking face!)

She cursed her invisible, eccentric guard in her mind.

Because of her small size—or rather, as a "consideration" to keep her from tiring—she was seated in a luxurious chair while the guests came forward as families to offer their congratulations.

Magnolia felt that Servas, as the Lord and a man of considerable age by this world's standards, should be the one sitting. Instead, he and Claude had taken up positions behind her like guardian knights, radiating an aura of intimidation as if daring anyone to say something out of line.

In the midst of this, the first person to approach with a "Yoo-hoo!" was Victor, wearing unusually proper clothes—formal evening wear, no less.

Magnolia blinked. She had assumed he was a commoner since he identified solely as an adventurer.

(Wait, is he actually a noble?)

At the same time, she noted that even in such attire, his hair was the same as ever. She stared at his topknot, which bobbed and swayed with energy.

「…Victor-san, are you here representing the Guild? I mean, I’m happy to see you, but is the protocol and hierarchy okay?」

In all likelihood, the most significant guest today was Duke Bristol of the Ascald Kingdom. He was the head of the kingdom’s premier ducal house and the man serving as Prime Minister.

As Magnolia whispered her "warning disguised as a check," Victor nodded repeatedly and gave a mock-solemn bow.

「Pardon my late greeting, Lady Magnolia. I have come as the representative of Duke Bristol. I am the second son of the Bristol family, Victor Casimir Bristol ♪」

Having said that, he flashed his usual bright, wide grin.

(Huh?)
Magnolia tilted her head.

(…Victor Casimir Bristol????)

She flipped through the "Noble Registry" in her mind at high speed.

「Victor Casimir Bristol, second son of House Bristol ♪」

As Victor repeated himself, Servas and Claude looked at him—the man who was also the Adventurer Guildmaster—with complicated expressions and nodded.

「…Lord Victor, we thank you for your congratulations. Please convey our regards to the Prime Minister.」

「Thank you. I shall do so… And with that! Magnolia-chan, happy sixth birthday! Here’s a voucher for a free weapon modification as a birthday present! Well, I’m sure you’re busy, so see ya later!」

Victor thrust an envelope containing the ticket at Magnolia, waved, and was immediately drawn by his own skipping feet toward the snack tables in the hall.

…Watching the large man (who was mostly bald) skip away in formal wear, the people around him tilted their heads and blinked in disbelief.

—The wild-looking adventurer with the ridiculous hair, who looked like nothing but a barbarian (even if he was a Guildmaster), was the son of the Prime Minister and the premier Ducal house?!

「…EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHH!!!!????」

The ethereal white castle shook with Magnolia’s scream, and the birds in the forest shrieked in unison, taking flight with a deafening flutter of wings.

*****

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