The incident with Thomas didn't cause much of a stir within the lord's estate.
First, the evidence was irrefutable—his death well-deserved.
Second, he died far too swiftly. The way someone handled things was completely different from a noble's usual style—blunt, efficient. Before anyone could even react, the thoroughly "cleansed" corpse of Thomas had already been laid out neatly before them like a polished display.
It felt… very real.
In Philip's original plan, he would've taken two days to slowly maneuver: first guiding Sauros to suspect Thomas, then placing him under house arrest, followed by gathering the necessary evidence piece by piece.
Then, finally, he would be executed publicly, as a warning to others.
However, that entire plan had been compressed into barely over ten minutes. What now sat before Philip was a stack of undeniable proof—
And a very, very dead body.
Still, the cleanup afterward was his responsibility. Thomas had tangled roots throughout the estate, and there were forces in town that needed to be pacified. Not to mention some opportunists from the capital who were secretly watching—it was up to Philip to spread the right message to keep them in check.
So, after officially promoting the already-prepared butler—Alphonse—he left in a hurry before noon even came.
Sauros had also vanished, not making another appearance.
Thus, the fiery-haired young lady, believing herself now the mistress of the mansion, took it upon herself—trailing a helpless Alphonse—to lead Allen and the other two deep into the estate, marching through long corridors to a more luxurious residential area.
She claimed she was going to pick rooms for them.
However, a small problem quickly arose.
Eris wanted Allen and Sylphy's rooms to be placed right next to hers, which Alphonse resisted with what seemed like life-or-death determination.
"Why not?!"
"Ojō-sama, have mercy! If the lord finds out, you'll have a brand-new butler tomorrow!"
"Hah?! Don't get in my way!!"
Alphonse, who normally carried himself with scholarly grace—his meticulously trimmed goat-like beard, monocle perched with poise—was now a total wreck. His glasses had slipped to the corner of his mouth as he used every ounce of strength to hold Eris back.
"Ojō-sama! Please remember your noble manners… how can you let guests live beside your private quarters? That's outrageous—totally improper… guests have designated rooms. This area is for you, your father, and your grandfather…"
As he pleaded, he also threw desperate glances toward Allen, Sylphy, and Rudy.
But none of them responded.
Rudy, normally quick to enjoy the show, and Sylphy, ever considerate, stood on either side of Allen—both frozen, unsure how to react. Still, the slight flickers of their eyes betrayed their focus: it was entirely fixed on Allen.
Allen had shown no expression and spoken not a word since the execution at the plaza.
The unfamiliar oppressive atmosphere made the two kids quite uncomfortable.
Which made the mood now feel awkward and heavy.
The hallway fell silent.
Their footsteps came to a halt.
Allen, finally sensing the sudden quiet around him, pulled his thoughts away from the image of that red formal dress fading into the distance. He lowered his eyes.
And saw all four of them staring at him.
Allen blinked, then turned to Alphonse.
"As for the residential area—did Lord Philip give any instructions?"
Alphonse glanced at the very displeased Eris, who stared hard at Allen, then gave a sheepish smile.
"The young master left in quite a rush. He simply said…"
He paused, looking puzzled for a moment before continuing:
"He said… to follow your instructions fully. But… I still believe it's not proper for you to live in this wing."
"What?! Father said to listen to Allen!"
Just as Eris's voice rose in protest, Allen casually flicked her ahoge, instantly stopping her from swinging a fist at the old butler. She pouted, vigorously shaking her head as if dissatisfied.
"We'll stay in the guest rooms."
"Hah?"
Allen knelt, looking the little wild dog in the eye with calm seriousness.
"Eris, it's not appropriate."
"Hah?"
"This area doesn't belong only to you. Your mother, father, and grandfather live here too. It's not your private space, but your family's shared space. We're outsiders—it's more respectful to stay in the guest rooms. That way, we don't cross boundaries."
"Alphonse is your family's steward. He manages household affairs for your grandfather. It's his duty. So don't make things harder for him, alright?"
As soon as he finished, Sylphy and Rudy exchanged glances, their expressions a little stiff.
Alphonse, on the other hand, began nodding furiously, visibly relieved.
Eris stared at Allen for a few moments before reluctantly replying:
"Fine! Guest rooms it is! Alphonse! Show the way!"
——
The guest rooms were located in a far corner of the first floor—long unused. Eris's classroom happened to be right across the hall, originally a guest room converted for lessons.
Compared to the rest of the estate, which had clearly defined and spacious functions, this part felt a little… makeshift.
But thanks to the sunlight, it had decent lighting.
According to Alphonse, the estate rarely had guests stay over. Rather than a guest wing, this was more like "the tutors' dormitory." Eris's classroom was placed opposite it purely for convenience.
Later, of course, that convenience was often abused. The young lady would rise early, wooden sword in hand, launching sneak attacks on her sleeping tutors. That was… not part of the original plan.
Now, inside the classroom, the midday sun bathed the table in front of them. Under Rudy's twitching gaze, the elderly butler politely urged them not to worry.
He was very sincere.
Meanwhile, Eris stared intently at the chairs around the table, subtly counting with her fingers.
As soon as Alphonse finished speaking, she excitedly pointed at the seats and declared:
"This one's mine!"
She claimed the center seat.
"This one's Sylphy's!"
To her left.
"This one's Allen's!"
To her right.
"This one's Ghislaine's!"
Directly across from her.
"There! All set!"
Efficient and precise.
She had expertly counted the only four chairs available.
Rudy, still staring at Alphonse, was caught off guard.
"What about mine?"
Eris raised an eyebrow.
"Hah? You're standing."
Pfft—Sylphy giggled, quickly covering her mouth. She turned to Allen.
Who could only smile helplessly.
But with that smile, the heavy atmosphere between them finally seemed to lift. Everything felt just a bit lighter again.
(End of Chapter)
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