Footman

It was now the end of October. Allen stood in the garden surrounding the lord's mansion. The grounds were beautifully kept by the gardener. A tree stood before him, its branches bearing large, ripe red fruit.

Allen remembered the day he became a footman of House Granvelle.

He had traveled with Baron Granvelle, the lord of the domain, for five days before they reached the lord's mansion in the city of Granvelle, the domain capital.

They had also stayed in the village where Rodan and Theresia were born and raised, two days from Krena Village, but Allen hadn't met his grandparents. He hoped he would get to see them someday.

When they arrived at the lord's mansion, Baron Granvelle was welcomed by the servants. There were about thirty of them.

Sebastian, the butler, had instructed Allen to learn his duties from Rikkerel, the head footman. Rikkerel was a brown-haired young man with freckles, around eighteen years old. However, Sebastian had emphasized that Allen shouldn't imitate his attitude toward work. Rikkerel seemed to be quite lazy.

The head footman, Rikkerel, might not do any work himself, but he seemed very considerate. He taught Allen all sorts of things—even things Allen hadn't asked about.

Since Rikkerel was willing to teach him anything, Allen asked about footmen. What was the difference between a footman and a personal attendant?

According to Rikkerel, they were completely different.

The servants had a hierarchy based on their positions. Naturally, the butler outranked the other servants, while footmen were near the bottom. Allen took notes in his grimoire, recording the servants' hierarchy from the top down. This was the pecking order among the roughly thirty people working for House Granvelle.

• Butler, housekeeper

• Attendants, ladies-in-waiting, head chef

• Coachman (stable hand), cooks, gardener

• Footmen, maids

The upper servants included everyone from the butler and housekeeper to the attendants, ladies-in-waiting, and head chef. Rikkerel told Allen to obey them properly, since they outranked him.

The butler managed the male servants, while the housekeeper managed the female servants.

The lower servants included everyone from the coachman and cooks to the gardener, footmen, and maids.

Personal attendants weren't servants, apparently. A personal attendant was simply a personal attendant—a position more like that of a helper.

After explaining the servants' hierarchy, Rikkerel told Allen about noble families. Family? Allen wondered about that because he had been reincarnated in this world from another one. In this world, especially among the nobility, the definition of family was different from what Allen was used to.

A noble's family included the servants, too.

That was when Allen understood why Rodan had been so happy he'd cried. Allen could now call himself a member of House Granvelle. He had become part of the family.

Even commoners couldn't easily become footmen. It was apparently difficult even to become a personal attendant. Allen had gone straight from being a serf to becoming a footman. It was the greatest reward Baron Granvelle could give Rodan for saving the village and contributing to its development.

(That's right. I have to be grateful for this.)

As if reminding himself, Allen recalled what Rikkerel had taught him about the servants' ranks.

"H-Hey, Allen! Stand steady! You're my footman, aren't you?! I can't reach!"

Cecil, Baron Granvelle's daughter, was ruffling his hair. They were beside a tree in the garden, and for some reason, Cecil was sitting on his shoulders. Her thighs rested on his shoulders.

She had brought him out to the garden, glaring at him with her sharp, determined crimson eyes as she ordered him to come along. He'd thought she was going to beat him up. Instead, she wanted him to lift her onto his shoulders so she could reach the fruit.

The fruit had ripened at the end of autumn. Allen had never eaten it, but it was large and looked delicious. It seemed too high even for an adult to reach. He was carrying Cecil on his shoulders, but she still couldn't reach it at all.

"I'm afraid you can't reach it, Lady Cecil. You might want to stand on my shoulders instead."

"Y-Yes, I suppose so. But if you drop me, you'll be sorry! I'll tell Father!"

(I want to forget all about this and drop her.)

Ever since Cecil found out that she and Allen were the same age, she had been picking on him at every opportunity. He asked the butler why she kept coming after him so often.

According to Sebastian, the butler, Cecil had asked for Allen to be her footman. The butler had told Allen to do his best, but his eyes had been full of sympathy. All Allen could do was sigh.

Slowly, Allen shifted from carrying Cecil on his shoulders to letting her stand with the soles of her feet on them. He carefully rose, balancing her as he went, and held her ankles to keep her from falling.

"How is that, Lady Cecil?"

"I-I still can't reach! I can't reach!"

(Please give up.)

"In that case, I can hold your ankles and lift you up. Would that work?"

"Hm? Yes, I suppose. Lift me slowly."

He took hold of her ankles and slowly lifted her. He could see what looked like bloomers—or perhaps pumpkin pants—but it didn't stir anything in him. There was no way an eight-year-old girl could stir such feelings in him. He had been thirty-five in his previous life, after all.

"How about now?"

Something snapped, perhaps a branch.

"I-I got it! Lower me slowly."

"Yes, yes." He lowered her slowly. She held a bright red fruit in her hand.

Cecil smiled happily, clutching the fruit proudly. Perhaps she'd wanted one for a long time.

She wiped the fruit on her sleeve, then suddenly began eating it. Allen watched her chew with a crunching sound, thinking that the young lady seemed rather tomboyish.

Her smiling face changed in an instant.

"Pfft! I-It tastes awful! It's sour!"

Apparently it was very sour. She slammed the fruit she'd worked so hard to get onto the ground. Looking closely, Allen saw countless rotten fruits scattered there. The gardener didn't seem to collect them. They must have been inedible.

"Well, they do say that fruit you can't reach is sour."

"I've never heard that! You knew it wasn't edible, didn't you, Allen?!"

"I knew... No, I wasn't aware, ma'am."

(That was close. I almost said, 'How should I know?')

"Fine, whatever. I need to get rid of this taste. I want some Popo fruit. Go to the kitchen and bring me some. If they don't have any, go buy it at the market."

(So I can't just come back and say they didn't have any?)

"At once." Allen headed to the kitchen. As expected, the head chef told him they didn't have any. So he was going to the market. He explained the situation to the butler and got a silver coin. He wasn't about to buy Popo fruit with his own money.

He headed for the market through the servants' back gate at the lord's mansion. He'd been told not to use the front gate under normal circumstances.

(Still, that's nice. It looks like I'll get to go into town quite often.)

A footman's job was to handle odd jobs. He had to listen to any request and take care of all sorts of things for his master's daily life. Rikkerel had told him that errands like shopping came up all the time.

The lord's mansion was at the far end of Granvelle. Outside the mansion was the noble quarter, where knights and other members of the lower nobility, along with influential townspeople, lived. The market was beyond that district. It took nearly two hours to walk there one way.

Unlike Krena Village, the market had all kinds of fruit on display.

"I'd like one of these Popo fruits, please."

"Sure thing. That'll be one silver coin."

It seemed Cecil only wanted one. At least she wasn't going to waste money on the young lady's whims.

(Whew. One piece of fruit costs a silver coin. So expensive. Still, do things cost the same in Krena Village and Granvelle?)

He returned home carrying a basket with just one Popo fruit in it.

(There was so much fruit. I wonder if there's an orchard near the domain. Though it's going to get cold soon. Do fruit grow in winter in this other world?)

Eight years after arriving in this other world, Allen still found himself wondering about little things. He realized he was still trapped by the common sense of his old world. Come to think of it, the same fruits had been available in shops here in both summer and winter.

It was nearly November, yet he could still get the same fruit as in summer. Now that he thought about it, Popo and Morumo fruits had been available in Krena Village even in December. Just as he wondered if there was an orchard nearby where fruit grew even in winter—

Rumbleeeeeee

A deafening roar came from the sky. It suddenly grew dark, as if he had stepped into the shade. Something enormous was flying overhead. Its sheer size and presence made him think it was a dragon before he even looked up. He gazed at the sky.

"Huh? That's an airship!!!"

He couldn't help shouting. In the sky, a ship shaped like a rugby ball—or perhaps a ham—flew along, several dozen meters long, maybe even a hundred. It slowly descended as it moved, perhaps toward a landing site near the city.

For some reason, the sight of something so enormous filled him with excitement.

(So this is a world with airships. Maybe these fruits are brought here from the tropics?)

At that moment, Allen sensed the vastness of the world through the gigantic airship. He remembered his father pointing out an Alba Heron when he was one year old and telling him about it.

And so, in Granvelle, a city far larger than his village, Allen's life as a footman began.