BIHNM 11

Chapter 11

What She Wants (Part 1)

“If early morning doesn’t work, then exactly what time would be acceptable, do you think?”

“Gyuu!”

Polka answered my question with a noncommittal chirp.

She had learned that when humans say something, if she just makes some kind of sound in response, they’re usually pleased by it.

“What do you think Lord Margus is thinking? You must know better than anyone, right? What really happened in this mansion?”

The blunt and curt way Lord Margus spoke was intimidating. I was sure he was angry about the letter’s sender, but the way he could be so gentle at one moment and so cold the next—just being near him gave me emotional whiplash.

“Gii, gyuuu!”

Polka’s cry sounded cheerful, but of course she couldn’t answer my questions. There would be no finding the truth that way.

“Thanks for listening, though. I’m going to have lunch now, so I’ll be off.”

“Kyu~!”

Polka flipped her empty feed bucket upside down to show me.
She’d eaten all her food and was demanding a snack—that’s what she meant.

“All right, all right. Just wait here, okay?”

I was sure there were still some greens left…
When I entered the kitchen through the back door, a faint, fresh fragrance drifted through the air. Looking around, I spotted Myuti sitting timidly in a corner, nibbling on an apple.

But apples weren’t in season. Why was she eating one?

“His Lordship had them sent from the northern territories,” Myuti explained, answering the question I hadn’t spoken aloud. “And yes—I asked first if we were all allowed to eat them.”

“What a kind man.”

“All” meant everyone in the mansion—Polka included.

“If you’d like one, I can peel it for you. Shall I make some tea as well?”

“No need. War dragons can crush the core and seeds just fine,” I replied.
Myuti gave me a faint, uncertain smile—perhaps I’d said something odd. I took an apple from the wooden crate. The stamped brand mark proved it was a luxury fruit.

If Polka saw them all, she’d probably devour the entire crate, so I took only one.

When I returned to the garden, Polka was staring at the ground, slowly walking.

—Was she watching something?

Peering closer, I saw something wriggling between the blades of grass. A snake or a mouse? No—something else.

It looked like she was following a baby bird that had fallen from its nest.

I knew Polka wasn’t the sort to torment small creatures for fun, but from the chick’s point of view, it must have been terrified.

“Polka, look! An apple!”

The moment I called out, she immediately turned toward me, taking a huge bite of the apple in one go.
While she was distracted, I darted into the pen and quickly scooped up the baby bird. It was indeed a nestling—not yet ready to fly.

I carefully wrapped it in my apron so it wouldn’t feel any pain and retreated before Polka could get angry at me for “invading her home.”

“The wing’s broken, just as I thought…”

The chick lay weakly in my palm. There was no sign of the parent bird nearby searching for it. Left alone like this, it wouldn’t last long; even if it survived the day, it could never live to adulthood in the wild.

That’s the way of nature, I knew—but still…

—Unable to grow properly, weak, and abandoned by its parents.
Just like me.

The thought pierced my chest, and I couldn’t bring myself to give up.

As I stared, the chick slowly opened its eyes and looked at me—as if to say, “Help me.”

—I’ll keep it.

I had been told I could use any room I liked, so I’d chosen one for myself.
It was a spare servant’s room at the far end of the hall—a double room, a bit large for one person, but it had a window and, being in the corner, I wouldn’t disturb anyone.

“Lord Margus, do you have a moment?”

When I knocked on the study door, he answered surprisingly quickly. His expression was calm—none of the irritation from this morning remained.

“What’s the matter?”

Under his steady gaze, I suddenly found I couldn’t speak. To be clear, it wasn’t that he was frightening; it was simply that people who have real confidence in themselves never hesitate to meet your eyes—and I wasn’t used to that.

“If it’s hard to talk about, come in.”

“N-no, it won’t take long.”

I just wanted to ask for one small favor; I couldn’t justify taking up more of his time than that.

“I have… one request.”

“A request from you? That’s unusual. Go on.”

“Um, well… I’d like to ask for an advance on my salary.”

His eyes widened slightly.

“There’s something I really need to buy…”

I’d said it. I’d actually said it!
I’d only been here a few days, and here I was asking for an advance—how shameless! As expected, Lord Margus frowned slightly, perhaps exasperated into silence.

I didn’t even know how much I was being paid. Considering that living expenses were deducted—plush bedding, hot baths every day, clothes, cosmetics, and three full meals—this month’s pay was surely already in the negative.

Even though my job required some specialized knowledge, asking for an advance as a newcomer might have been out of line.

“If not this month, then perhaps from next month’s pay…”

Still, I’d decided to take care of that bird. Shameful or not, there was no other way but to ask.

“Your salary… Ah, I see. How much do you need?”

“Um… about thirty silver coins—no, fifty would be enough.”

“For such pocket change? What are you planning to buy?”

“Supplies for a small bird—and transportation costs.”

“A… bird?”

He tilted his head, and the gesture was so much like Polka’s that I nearly laughed. Or rather, Polka must have learned it from him.

“I found a fallen chick. I’d like to take care of it.”

“I see… Very well. And anything else?”

I hadn’t expected the conversation to continue, and I fell silent—was he asking if I had other reports? He was a busy man; I shouldn’t waste his time with every little thing.

“Thank you for the apples. Polka loved them.”

“…They were meant for humans.”

“Myuti said they were delicious too.”

“And you?”

“I haven’t eaten one yet.”

He seemed to slump his shoulders slightly.

“They were… actually for you. I said they were for everyone because I thought you’d feel awkward otherwise, but to think you didn’t even eat one…”

“Oh, I—I’m so sorry! I’ll eat one gratefully, right away.”

“No, it was my fault. A poor choice for a gift. I’m sorry.”

It was all because I’d once babbled something about liking apples. I’d just made him go out of his way unnecessarily.

“I—I do love apples! Truly! I really do!”

I wasn’t just saying that to cover my embarrassment; I genuinely liked apples. I just hadn’t had time to eat one yet, but I intended to enjoy one later.

Perhaps my flustered insistence was too much, because Lord Margus brought a hand to his mouth and turned away, hiding a faint smile.

“I’m sorry…”

“There’s no need to apologize.”

As I bowed my head, he gently touched my cheek, making me jump. His ice-gray eyes met mine.

—Those cold yet gentle winter-colored eyes… I’d seen them somewhere before. But where…?

“About that advance,” he said quietly. “Come with me.”

He turned his gaze away, and my half-formed memory slipped back into the dark.

 (Part 2)

Come with him? Where to?
Following Lord Margus, I soon found myself in the dressing room on the second floor.

I’d only ever entered here to borrow clothes. Despite being rarely used, it was always well-ventilated and spotless—as if waiting for its master to return.

The mansion had belonged to Lord Margus’s grandfather, Lord Roland, so perhaps this room once belonged to his wife.

“By the way,” he said, opening a wardrobe, “why aren’t you using your assigned room?”

“…?”

“That room was prepared for you.”

He had told me I was free to use any room I liked, so I’d simply chosen one. Apparently, I hadn’t fully understood what he’d meant.

“I—I’m sorry. The nicer room made me nervous, and the one next to Myuti’s was empty, so I just…”

“I’m not scolding you. I told you to do as you please, didn’t I? If you prefer the first floor, that’s fine.”

“Either is fine, truly. I do like my current room, but… this one is lovely too.”

“As long as you’re comfortable, that’s what matters.”

He took a key from his pocket and opened a small safe hidden at the back of the wardrobe.
The clinking sound that followed told me coins were inside.

“There’s so much money in this room…”

Even without looking closely, I could tell they were gold coins, not silver. I hadn’t known there was a safe here—but to keep it in such an accessible place! Maybe for a great noble like the Browning family, this amount really was pocket change.

“Take what you need from here when necessary. Or if you prefer, I can issue a check.”

“Thank you. I’ll just take one coin, then…”

The sheer presence of so much gold made me dizzy. Perhaps it was the magical energy that gold held.

I carefully picked up one coin between my fingers—but then he placed the key to the safe on my palm atop the coin.

“This belongs to you now. You should manage it yourself.”

“M-me!? Me!?”

I couldn’t help but squeak.

“Yes. Algelita—it’s yours. To put it simply, this is your salary.”

“T-that can’t be! There’s no way this could be my salary!”

“Then tell me—what do you think would be an appropriate amount for a wife?”

“I… um…”

I faltered.
Even if I didn’t receive a single coin, my current living conditions were more than enough. If I could save a little for the future, that would be reassuring, but… this wasn’t about how much I wanted—it was about what he decided I was worth. How could I argue about the amount?

—So instead…

I bowed neatly and said what I could.

“Thank you. I’ll manage it carefully and report when I spend any.”

“You don’t need to report.”

…Well, I didn’t plan to spend any anyway. So there’d be nothing to report—and no reason to trouble him again.

“Yes. I’m sorry for taking your time—you must be busy.”

“I don’t consider the time I spend on you a waste.”

How kind he was. Too kind, even.
He was a soldier, and yet I sometimes thought such gentleness didn’t belong on a battlefield.

I had always believed men were arrogant and dismissive of women, yet here stood a man’s man—kind, composed, and considerate. It surprised me every time.

“I plan to go shopping right away. Is there anything you’d like me to pick up?”

“Nothing in particular… The more I talk to you, the more I realize how unladylike you are for an earl’s daughter. You seem to have no material desires at all.”

He wasn’t wrong. I simply wasn’t raised that way.

“…I’m just a burden to my family. Since I bring them no benefit, I can’t afford to be indulgent.”

He was silent for a long while after hearing that. What I’d said was true—but for some reason, it felt like I’d said something wrong.

“I don’t see you that way,” he said at last.

When I looked up, his eyes were serious.

“You’re someone I need. You’re not a burden at all. How can I make you understand that?”

He brushed his hand gently against my cheek, and my heart nearly leapt out of my chest.

“N-no! I understand! I do! I’m not a burden! I’ll work hard and earn my pay faithfully!”

“That’s… not quite what I meant…”

He sighed slightly, lowering his eyebrows as he withdrew his hand. The warmth of his touch lingered on my skin, making my face burn.

“For example,” he said, “if you suddenly had freedom and great wealth—wouldn’t you ever dream of doing something for yourself?”

“Dream…?”

I thought about it. But nothing came to mind.
I already had everything I needed—a fine home, a beautiful garden, kind coworkers and a generous employer, and though she could be troublesome, the most beautiful war dragon in the kingdom.

What more could I possibly want?

“I told you before,” he said softly. “As long as you’re here, I’ll grant you any wish. Isn’t there anything you’d like?”

—There was one thing I wanted to know: his true feelings.
But that would be far too selfish to ask.

“…No. I’m already quite content.”

“In that case… hmm, buy some jam for breakfast tomorrow. Any flavor you like.”

“…Yes, of course!”

That, at least, was something I could handle—and it made me strangely happy.