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Chapter 09
Lauren glanced at Aster, who was sitting across from her.
As thanks for finding and returning her jewel, Aster had said he wanted to learn how to work from her. True to his word, the two of them ended up having something like lessons every evening. Calling them lessons was an exaggeration, though—it was mostly revisiting past political and economic issues that had once become major topics.
As a renowned military commander, his reputation as a soldier was clearly deserved; he was quick-witted and sharp. But it seemed quite difficult for him to replace the mindset he had developed as a lifelong soldier with that of a lord.
“So I’m saying, there’s no need to be that harsh.”
A sigh slipped into Lauren’s voice.
Aster, expression stiff, looked down at the paper he had been reading moments earlier. It contained an old article about several peasants who had embezzled money and goods meant for their lord. Lauren had asked Aster what punishment would be appropriate in such a case, and he had answered that their property should be confiscated and they should be imprisoned.
And her response to that answer had been exactly what she’d just said.
No need to be so harsh?
By military law, his judgment was correct. Then what was he supposed to do instead? He knew no standards other than military law.
“Did you read this part?”
Lauren’s slender finger pointed to a section on the page.
Aster’s eyes followed the movement of her fingertip. After checking the contents, he nodded. Hair like spun gold shifted with the motion, and his green eyes rolled toward her.
“To summarize?”
“It says… life was difficult because of high taxes, and they committed the crime because they had a seriously ill family member to care for.”
Lauren nodded.
The article contained lengthy testimonies from neighbors and other details, but that was the core of it.
“I’m not a soldier, so I can’t say for sure, but under military law I think your answer would be correct. But that peasant isn’t a soldier. We have to look at why something like this happened. If you’re a lord, your role is to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Aster reread the article.
“Ah.”
He made a small sound.
For a brief moment, his eyes directed at her lit up.
“So lower the tax rate and provide care for the patient.”
“You got it right. That’s exactly what a lord should do.”
Lauren smiled softly.
The way the corners of her eyes curved gently was pleasant to look at.
For some reason, she handled Aster well. She was the sort of good teacher who could wait until he found the answer himself and was generous with praise.
“But something’s strange.”
“What is?”
“As far as I know, the Empire’s legal tax rate isn’t especially high. Then why would someone steal goods because taxes were too heavy?”
Aster crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.
A crease formed between his brows as he tilted his head.
A good question.
Lauren had assumed he only knew military law, but apparently he understood basic imperial law as well. He had been constantly reading documents—perhaps he’d been studying on his own.
She nodded.
“There’s something called regional law. Lords can adjust tax rates however they want.”
Lauren showed him the second page of the newspaper article.
The lord of that territory had done exactly as Aster suggested—confiscated the peasant’s property and imprisoned him.
But people crushed beneath excessive taxation had finally reached their limit.
A representative of the village walked for days to the imperial palace.
The Emperor, who prided himself on being merciful to imperial citizens, personally received them and listened to their plea.
Then the Emperor’s ‘Iron Hammer’ descended upon the lord.
The Iron Hammer, the Emperor’s knight order, immediately rode out and surrounded the lord’s estate.
The imprisoned peasant was released, and the lord was forced to kneel before the people.
Gathering the townsfolk together, the captain of the Iron Hammer loudly announced the Emperor’s decree: because the lord had arbitrarily raised taxes and oppressed the people, his title would be downgraded and his territory confiscated.
The Emperor ordered the captain of the Iron Hammer to serve as temporary lord and care for the territory.
Taxes for the next several years were also waived.
The people wept with joy.
Across the Empire, voices rose in praise of the Emperor’s character and wisdom.
The second article described these events in detail.
Aster narrowed his eyes as he read.
“That happened while I was attending the military academy. I remember it because the Iron Hammer—who rarely moved—got involved.”
His low mutter somehow sounded displeased.
His furrowed brows looked fierce.
There was no obvious reason for that.
Lauren tilted her head, and Aster met her gaze before twisting his lips into a crooked smile.
Suddenly, Lauren remembered when she had first met him in this estate.
It was the same slanted smile he always wore, but compared to then, his eyes now seemed a little softer.
That couldn’t be right.
It must be her imagination.
Afraid he might notice what she was thinking, Lauren hurriedly changed the subject.
“They rarely move? But they answer directly to the Emperor, don’t they? I heard they achieved many accomplishments in war.”
“Achievements are easy enough to fabricate.”
At his complicated-sounding remark, Lauren fell silent.
Aster and the army under his command had always fought at the very front of the battlefield.
But because Aster had inherited his dukedom before even reaching adulthood, he lacked political backing. Most of his soldiers were commoners, too, so they had nearly had their achievements stolen without being able to object.
The person who prevented that was none other than the former Baron Siaz—Lauren’s father.
“Having a dukedom and territory, I can manage somehow. But for my subordinates, their lives depend on military merit.”
His narrowed eyes lowered.
“Being unable to properly reward those who fought beside me… it was miserable.”
He murmured that he had even planned to spend his own fortune to compensate them.
Lauren found herself staring blankly at him.
He was smiling at her.
The bitterness in that smile was no different than usual, but she had never seen an expression like it before.
“If not for the Baron, I wouldn’t have been able to properly reward the people who risked their lives fighting beside me. I owe your father a debt I can never repay.”
Lauren lowered her head.
She wasn’t the person who should be receiving that gratitude.
But her father was gone now.
Even words of thanks could no longer reach him.
The absence of her parents—something she had deliberately tried not to think about—came rushing over her like a tide at Aster’s low voice.
There was no time to be swallowed by belated grief.
Lauren steadied herself with a silent breath.
She needed to change the topic.
Then something in his earlier story caught her attention.
“…What was that about the Iron Hammer just now? Did they also steal someone else’s achievements?”
Aster let out a short laugh and shrugged.
That gesture itself was answer enough.
Lauren’s face crumpled into disbelief.
“Seriously?”
“There’s no reason for me to lie.”
Of course Lauren knew he wasn’t the type to lie.
The story was simply too unbelievable, and she had asked again instinctively.
The Iron Hammer was the Emperor’s personal knight order.
After earning major military achievements in war, the captain and vice-captain received vast territories, while sons of noble families gained promotions in rank or entirely new titles.
But if all of that had come from taking rewards meant for others…
Then what had those who ran into battle ahead of everyone else, risking their lives, been fighting for?
Aster rose from his seat.
He took a bottle from the cabinet, poured himself a drink, and emptied the glass in one gulp.
Lauren could only watch in silence.
After refilling the glass, he leaned against the window.
Looking up at the sky where stars had begun to appear, Aster inhaled slowly.
His shoulders rose and fell heavily.
“Pathetic, isn’t it? I should’ve fought back.”
His low voice drifted in from where he faced outside.
“But I didn’t know how.”
“I tried to support my people with my own money. I couldn’t give them honor, but I wanted to at least make their lives easier.”
For commoners without ties to the military, there was only one reason to go to war:
To survive.
Honor meant nothing to them.
Lauren quietly watched Aster’s back.
Perhaps he simply lacked methods—but maybe he thought similarly to her father, and to her.
Wanting his people to live well.
Not wanting to see them suffer.
That was why he had even considered using his personal fortune.
Unlike other nobles.
The Siaz family were minor nobles with a small territory.
Perhaps because of that, Lauren’s life had always been close to the people of the land.
As a child she played with local children.
She attended school with them, too.
In Siaz territory, where the Baron ruled, even commoners could study if they had the will.
Her father’s assistant in the imperial capital had also been a commoner.
Lauren only learned much later that other territories were different.
The lives of commoners she saw in a relative’s domain were harsh.
People unable to read a single letter.
Lives where talent could never flourish.
Watching people praise a lord as “good” simply because his people didn’t starve had shocked Lauren, as if the world she knew had collapsed.
That was why young Lauren had decided she wanted to learn her father’s work.
The friends she had grown up running and playing with.
The teachers who always greeted her warmly at school.
Market merchants who welcomed her as the lord’s daughter and pressed sweets into her hands.
Farmers who stuffed her arms with fruit and crops, insisting she take them home to eat.
Even though the territory was poor, she had never felt lacking.
All because of them.
Those people labeled “commoners,” who had lived alongside her.
Her father always said:
The Siaz family had become lords only because they had been luckier than others.
Nobles and commoners were separated only by names—they were the same people.
And so, protecting their smiling faces was what a lord ought to do.
Aster’s desire to reward his people even with his own wealth was no different from her wish—and her father’s wish—to protect those smiles.
Lauren’s expression tightened as she sank into thought.
In the future she had once imagined, she was always the lord of Siaz territory.
Marriage didn’t matter.
Whether she married or not was irrelevant.
She could never imagine herself not being a lord.
But now, Lauren had left her territory and was by Aster’s side.
After her parents died suddenly, the uncle who stole her title had never once performed the duties of a lord.
Even during the short time she lived there with them, they had only obsessed over erasing traces of the previous lord.
They had shown no intention of governing properly.
How was the territory doing now?
How were its people?
Only now did Lauren begin thinking such things.
And she realized, painfully, that it was already far too late.
