Revenge. There was no way that could be it.

Glen could say so with certainty. Not just say it, either. He could stake his entire trading company on it. It was a bet he could put everything on and still not come out at a loss. But Lanen only gave a bitter smile, the way you would if it were already a settled fact.

“He says he can’t go on living with me like family anymore.”

Ah. Here we go. Here it comes. Glen squeezed his eyes shut again.

‘It’s back.’

He had thought today might be a quiet day, but here it was again. The spectacular emotional ping-pong parade between this oblivious young lady and her even more oblivious manservant.

“Lanen, that’s probably…”

In that moment, the past ten-odd years flashed through Glen’s mind like a panorama. The moments of emotional labor he had been dragged into, caught between two oblivious children and swept along by their rhythm. Their parade was already familiar to him, something he had experienced until he was thoroughly sick of it, and had even bought the commemorative shirt for.

Cedarwood Carlisle declared to Lanen Rockefeller that he couldn’t go on living with her like family? Well, of course he couldn’t.

“You’re… probably right. There’s no way that man could think of you as family.”

Because that man had been rotten from the very first leaf.

⊹ ☼ ⊹

Glen Raines.

He was the eldest son of the Rainesfield trading company, which ran a brewing business using hops and grapes on the fertile plains adjacent to the Rockefeller territory.

“I hear that old castle that was just a name on a map has been sold. The buyer is apparently some new businessman. Unimaginably wealthy, they say?”

Thirteen years ago from now. Glen had come to the Rockefeller Manor with his father to open trade with the Rockefellers, who had newly taken over the territory.

“They say he’s wealthy enough to hire every farmer in the territory as a laborer just to build the new Manor. I can see why.”

Glen looked up at the Rockefellers’ castle-like Manor and marveled.

“By the way, why are there so many visitors? Are they throwing a party to celebrate the Manor’s completion?”

Glen said, peering out of the carriage. This was not a place with heavy foot traffic, yet carriages and cars were lined up in a long queue outside the Manor gates.

“Everyone’s thinking the same thing. New nobility needs connections, and we need new trading partners. In business you need to be quick with information and quick on your feet. Understood, Glen?”

“Yes, yes.”

Glen set aside his father’s one thousand and twenty-first recitation of a trading company head’s mindset and looked up at the Manor.

At last the Manor gates opened.

“It is an honor to meet you. I am Reynold Raines, head of the Rainesfield trading company.”

Oh, this is nothing, his father said with an amiable smile, and handed over the finest liquor in the company’s inventory. Along with the entire carriage it came in.

The head of the Rockefeller family, who had greeted them with cool formality at first, lit up at his extravagant gesture and belatedly offered Reynold his hand.

Even a successful businessman has a soft spot for something free. Glen thought.

“Oh, and this is my son. Say hello, Glen.”

“How do you do? I am Glen Raines.”

“I hear the Rockefeller family has sons as well. They might even be around the same age, ha ha.”

“Is that so? How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

“Same age as Reagan, then.”

The head of the family gestured to a servant standing nearby. The gist of it was that the adults would talk among themselves, so go fetch the sons and let the young ones entertain each other.

“As it happens, I was thinking of distributing incense and beer to the miners and factory workers. I’ve been looking for somewhere to purchase them in bulk. Could you help with that?”

“Our company is perfectly suited for that sort of thing. We deal in everything from regional specialties from across the empire to goods from across the sea.”

“Excellent. Then let us go inside and talk at our leisure.”

With that they departed, and presently a servant arrived with the young masters of the Manor.

‘There’s supposed to be one my age, so is that older one Reagan? The younger one looks about my little sister’s age.’

This was Glen’s first impression of the Manor’s young masters.

Well-bred.

‘Clearly never gotten their hands dirty a day in their lives.’

Glen smiled pleasantly and extended his hand first.

“Hello. I am Glen Raines, next head of the Rainesfield trading company.”

His father had never so much as hinted at giving him the position, but Glen said it without missing a beat. A merchant worth his salt had to talk big even when he had nothing to show for it.

‘Either way, they’ll introduce themselves as the next head of the family and so on.’

“……”

“……”

But they only stared blankly at the hand Glen had extended.

Dear me, perhaps the handshake is still too grown-up a greeting for children. Just as Glen moved to withdraw his hand, he noticed where the young masters’ gazes were directed.

There was a dark stain on it. The result of picking grapes all summer long, on account of the hundred-odd principles of a merchant’s mindset that included knowing how things were made.

‘Ah.’

Glen understood why his hand was floating in the air in embarrassment. These young masters still thought the world revolved around social standing and money?

They were right, of course.

“…Reagan Rockefeller. And this is my younger brother, Nathan Rockefeller.”

“What are you, one of the workers from our factory?”

They were remarkably perceptive. Insufferably so.

And just like that, Glen Raines’s impression of the “Rockefellers” was perfectly established.

Insufferable aristocrats.

Glen Raines was the type to smile and spit in the face of insufferable people. But right now his father’s business was on the line, a critically important moment. He exercised superhuman patience and…

“Wow, the Manor’s garden is beautiful. Might I have a look around? By myself, by myself!”

Managed to secure some time alone.

Glen sat down in the shade of a tree and stretched his legs out.

“My father should be thanking me. If I were a stupider person I’d have picked a fight with those insufferable young masters and ruined my father’s business entirely.”

That aside, you could tell it was a wealthy household just from the garden’s trees, which were anything but ordinary. Rosewood, no less. Fine color, excellent hardness, the finest of all hardwoods.

‘And yet here it is, planted just to line a path. Took root in the wrong place…’

“Poor thing.”

Glen clicked his tongue and looked up.

At that exact moment, he locked eyes with a girl hanging from the tree above him.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

The instant they registered each other.

“Ah!”

Before he could even startle, the little one leapt down directly onto Glen.

Thud, landing squarely on his solar plexus. Glen crossed the threshold of the next world in exactly one second.

“S, sorry, I didn’t know anyone was here.”

The little one who had dropped on him without mercy looked flustered and, by way of apology, placed the white daisy she had been wearing in her hair on his chest. It had the distinct air of a funeral offering.

Meanwhile, another small figure whose hiding place was unclear emerged from the bushes. The girl called out to him right away.

“Cedar, are they gone?”

“Yes. But this person…”

“I don’t know. We’ll have to find out.”

Cedar, no matter how you look at it, this person doesn’t seem to be from our Manor, does he? Lanen checked Glen’s eyes by pulling back the eyelids. No. I’ve never seen this face before. …He might be a bad person, so please don’t touch him carelessly, my lady.

Glen was in the middle of an emotional reunion with his long-departed mother, and the boy and girl were in the middle of confirming that Glen still had a pulse.

“Mother…”

“My lady.”

The moment Glen came to his senses, the boy grabbed the girl’s hand.

“Madam is coming this way, hide.”

What do we do! Small feet shuffled frantically. Glen came to his senses belatedly and got up, clutching his aching chest. At that, the girl gripped his sleeve tight.

“You have to say we’re not here!”

“Wh… what?”

“You understand, right? Please!”

“What do you mean…”

Before Glen could even ask what she meant, the boy and girl vanished into the bushes in an instant.

But soon Glen understood what the girl’s hasty request had meant.

“Where on earth did they go?”

A woman was walking toward him from across the garden. She was looking around with a sharp eye, the way you would search for a mischievous puppy that had run off. From the look of things, she was searching for someone.

‘So this was what the little ones were asking.’

“Good day, Madam.”

Glen greeted the middle-aged woman who had appeared before him.

“Who are…”

“Glen Raines, eldest son of the Rainesfield trading company. My father is in the middle of a business discussion, so I was taking a moment to admire this magnificent Manor.”

“Oh my, Rainesfield. Of course I know it. I am Sharon Tevern, governess to the Rockefeller family.”

“Madam Sharon? Could you be the Madam Sharon who ran an etiquette school in the capital?”

“My, you know of me?”

“But of course. My younger sister is very fond of your etiquette guide. Whenever she visited the capital she would always stop by your etiquette school to buy the posture-correction flats.”

The woman, whose expression until a moment ago had looked like someone who had just glimpsed the soft underbelly of a hard-shelled insect, softened.

Good, that’s enough of an atmosphere. Glen smiled brightly.

“Are you looking for someone, by any chance?”

He opened the subject with the intention of selling out the little ones who had threatened his life.

But contrary to his intentions, the Madam, now in good spirits, said it was nothing and departed with a prim stride.

What a shame. Glen clicked his tongue. If she had asked whether he knew where the little ones had gone, he would have answered gladly. That the little ones who had nearly sent him to the next world were hiding in the rustling bushes right behind him.

“I can’t believe Madam backed off that easily. Impressive.”

Just then, the small would-be killers poked their heads out of the bushes.

Only then could Glen get a proper look at the little ones’ faces.

Clothes that weren’t worn out but were thoroughly grubby. Equally grubby appearances, as though they had been rolling around in the kitchen garden.

Given that Madam was looking for them, they were likely members of the household rather than guests. And grubby little children like these were unlikely to be of any distinguished standing.

‘Either Madam’s servants, or shoe-polishers who had done irreparable damage to Madam’s shoes. One of the two.’

Meanwhile the little ones came trotting over to him as though they had discovered an interesting rock.

“I’ve never seen Madam smile that brightly before. How did you do it?”

“Basic stuff for a trading company head’s son.”

They were all potential customers, after all. Glen shrugged.

“A trading company? What do they do there?”

The little ones were looking up at him with shining eyes. The innocent gaze unique to small children who saw you as an impressive adult.

Perhaps because he had just been wounded by the cold eyes of the young masters. They had looked like little demons right up until the moment they crawled out of the bushes, but watching them chirp on and on, they seemed more like small chicks.

‘The young masters and these little ones had both left bruises on his chest, but…’

“A trading company is, simply put, a place that buys and sells all kinds of things.”

‘At least these little ones hadn’t done it on purpose.’

Glen decided to think of it charitably.

And so Glen and the little ones wandered around what they called the Manor’s secret spots, exchanging this and that. The little ones treated Glen like an all-purpose vending machine that would answer anything if you pressed it, and Glen didn’t mind the little ones treating him like an impressive adult. It even reminded him of his younger sister in her early years, before she had hit adolescence and stopped declaring that her brother was the best.

‘Cute.’

Glen patted the head of the girl who was breaking off pieces of a melted cookie and offering them to him as her snack. At that, the boy who had been stuck right beside the girl narrowed his eyes. It was an obvious display of wariness.

‘That one doesn’t seem to like me much.’

Glen laughed inwardly at the boy’s trivial hostility, which barely rose to the level of a cat’s hiss.

“Glen travels outside the territory a lot? Then I want to be a trading company head too.”

“Ha, that won’t do, little one. You belong here.”

“Then will you buy me? I’ll give you a good price!”

Glen pressed a hand to his head, wondering when this little one would realize that what she had just said was somewhat problematic.

“Buy me now and I’ll throw this one in too. He’s my family.”

“…What did he do to deserve that?”

Glen looked at Cedarwood, who had been minding his own business and was now being offered as a bonus. His face had gone a peculiar shade of red.

Glen spent a moment wondering whether his own sense of things was off.