Chapter 5
Inside the carriage, which advanced with a steady clatter, Lewis fixed his gaze on Monica, seated across from him, and spoke.
"First question: Name the ranks of nobility in our kingdom, from highest to lowest."
"...B-Baron, marquess, duke, count?"
Lewis called Monica, who had answered uncertainly, a "stupid girl" with an exceptionally beautiful smile.
"Not one of those is correct, and where did the viscount go?"
"...Eep."
A simple lecture on the nobility by Lewis was currently underway inside the carriage.
This lecture on nobility was not about learning aristocratic manners or how to conduct oneself like a noble.
It was a lesson in basic common sense—knowledge Monica lacked even before manners entered the picture.
The whole thing had begun with one simple question from Monica.
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"From here, we're heading to my house in the royal capital. There, we'll meet Count Kerbeck's daughter, Isabelle Norton-jō, and take care of the enrollment procedures..."
Once they had boarded the carriage, Lewis explained the plan to Monica. But Monica was more interested in Lewis's words than in the plan itself.
Isabelle Norton-jō, Count Kerbeck's daughter, who would be Monica's collaborator this time.
"...Um, i-is Kerbeck not a family name?"
"Pardon?"
Seeing Lewis look as though he could not understand what she was saying, Monica fidgeted with her fingers and spoke.
"I-I mean, since she's the daughter of Count Kerbeck, I thought her name would be Isabelle Kerbeck-sama..."
"Kerbeck is a territorial title. People of count rank or higher are generally addressed by adding their rank to their title."
"...?"
As Monica stared at him, blinking in confusion, a muscle in Lewis's cheek began to twitch.
"Fellow student-dono, how much do you know about the aristocratic hierarchy?"
When Monica silently shook her head, the smile finally vanished from Lewis's face.
And so began Lewis-sensei's fun (not fun) lecture on the aristocratic hierarchy.
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"First, drill this into your head. The ranks of nobility in our kingdom are, from highest to lowest: duke, marquess, count, viscount, and baron. There are also lesser nobles beneath them, but we'll leave them out for now. For the moment, whenever you encounter someone of ducal rank, assume they're a blood relative of the royal family."
As she etched Lewis's words into her mind, Monica muttered,
"...C-counts are surprisingly high-ranking, aren't they?"
The truth was that Monica had thought a count was the lowest rank of nobility.
At Monica's mutter, Lewis opened his eyes as wide as they could go and stared at her as though she were something impossible.
"...Fellow student-dono? You have a noble title yourself, don't you?"
The Seven Sages are granted a special title called Magic Count, equivalent to the rank of count.
In other words, Monica was a noblewoman too—moreover, one of the fewer than ten women in the kingdom who held such a rare title. But after spending almost the past two years shut away in a mountain cottage, Monica had no sense of herself as a noble.
Come to think of it, Monica remembered receiving various things—documents certifying her title, a ring, and so on—when she became one of the Seven Sages, but she could barely remember where she had put them. They were probably buried somewhere in the stacks of papers in that mountain cottage.
When Monica honestly confessed as much, Lewis placed a finger against the furrow between his brows and let out a deep sigh.
"Let me start by explaining counts. As a rule, a count who owns land takes the name of that territory as their title. Thus, Azure Norton-dono is Count Kerbeck, who rules the Kerbeck territory. The same applies to dukes and marquesses."
"T-there are counts who don't own land?"
"There are. In fact, that's what we are, you stupid girl."
A court count was one example of a count without territory. Apparently, a Magic Count was a type of court count.
As a rule, court counts held their titles for only one lifetime, and if they had no accomplishments, their titles were stripped from them immediately.
"In the case of a count without territory, you may also attach 'Count' to the family name. In your case, you would be Everett, Magic Count."
Even someone born a commoner could be granted a noble title based on their achievements.
Of all such titles, the Magic Count could hardly be called anything less than the highest-ranking.
"There is a wide range among counts, to be honest. Some live lives no different from commoners, on the verge of ruin. Even when the title of count is the same, their influence can be worlds apart."
Among counts, Magic Counts apparently held a fairly high position. After all, the Seven Sages were in a position to voice their opinions directly to His Majesty the King.
However, Monica had never met the king except at ceremonies. Because she spent most of her time holed up in her mountain cottage, she missed nearly every meeting of the Seven Sages, which the king occasionally attended.
The Seven Sages were not generally obligated to appear in high society... but magical research required patrons, so the overwhelming majority of the Seven Sages actively participated in high society.
A shut-in like Monica was a rare exception.
"Magic Counts have relatively strong influence among counts, but the title is nonhereditary and lasts only one lifetime, and they have no territory. The moment you leave your seat among the Seven Sages, you lose the title... That is precisely why everyone is so desperate to hold on to their position."
"...You too, Lewis-san?"
"Of course."
Lewis answered immediately and fixed Monica with a sharp glare.
"I have no intention whatsoever of throwing away my current position. That is precisely why I must ensure this secret mission succeeds."
In the jolting carriage, Lewis extended an arm without losing his balance and placed a finger squarely between Monica's brows.
"...Failure will not be tolerated, fellow student-dono."
Those words were meant as a warning to Monica, who had no attachment to the position of Magic Count.
If Monica failed to guard the prince, that would also be a failure on Lewis's part.
And then, who knew what Lewis would do to her...
(...Just imagining it makes me feel like throwing up.)
As Monica turned deathly pale and clutched her stomach, Lewis asked in a tone of exaggerated concern, "Oh dear, are you feeling motion sick?"
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By the time Monica and the others, who had been jostled by the carriage since early morning, arrived at Lewis's mansion in the royal capital, the summer sun had begun to slant.
After being shaken around in the carriage for hours and having Lewis drill knowledge of the nobility into her the entire way, Monica followed behind him on unsteady, staggering legs. If Lin had not supported her as though caring for a patient, she would have collapsed face-first onto the ground long ago.
"Rosalie, I'm home."
When Lewis said this in a voice that was perhaps a little too bright, his wife, Rosalie Miller, immediately came out to greet them.
"Welcome home."
Compared with the flamboyant Lewis, she was a plainly featured woman. She wore practical clothes with little ornamentation and tied her dark-brown hair back in a single ponytail.
Unlike Lewis, who seemed to be broadcasting how desperately he had wanted to see his wife again, Rosalie's manner was matter-of-fact.
Even when Lewis kissed her cheek, she did not so much as twitch an eyebrow; she simply continued staring at Monica.
"Who's that girl?"
"She is Monica Everett-dono, the Silent Witch, one of my fellow Seven Sages."
Rosalie's eyes widened slightly as she looked at Monica, as though a little surprised.
Monica was far too young to be one of the Seven Sages, of course, but what had really caused Rosalie's surprise was probably Monica's appearance.
Her small, scrawny body, threadbare robe, and messy braids made her look like someone who could easily be mistaken for a vagrant.
But Rosalie quickly straightened herself and bowed to Monica.
"My deepest apologies, Silent Witch-sama. I am Rosalie Miller, wife of Lewis Miller, the Barrier Mage. Thank you for always taking care of my husband."
"H-ha, ha... n-nice... to meet... you..."
Monica hurriedly bobbed her head in a bow as well, but that was all she could manage to say in her strained voice. For a painfully shy person like Monica, greeting someone she had just met was one of the things she found most difficult.
As Monica remained frozen in a bow, Lewis grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and forcibly raised her face.
"Rosalie, I'm sorry to bother you so soon after getting home, but... could you make a human being out of this?"
"I-I-I am... a human being..."
At Monica's mosquito-soft protest, Lewis snorted, still holding her by the scruff of the neck.
"Did you know, fellow student-dono? Right now, you look like nothing more than a ragged straw doll. If you stood in a wheat field, you'd undoubtedly be mistaken for a scarecrow."
"Th-that's mean..."
Lewis looked coldly at the sniffling Monica and declared,
"If you have a complaint, evolve into a human and come back. I have no interest in arguing with a scarecrow."