The Baharuth Empire.
A nation northeast of the Re-Estize Kingdom, ruled by the young Emperor Jircniv Rune Farlord El-Nix. Known as the Bloody Emperor, he elevated anything beneficial to the Empire and eliminated anything that wasn't, with cold efficiency.
One noble house he'd eliminated-or rather, stripped of nobility-was the Furt family. Their house had been dismantled, all privileges revoked, reducing them to commoners.
Or so it should have been. Yet they still maintained a large estate in the imperial capital of Arwintar's upscale residential district. The surrounding mansions, however, had fallen into neglect-unkempt gardens, grime-coated gates. Former nobles who'd lost their status under the Bloody Emperor and could no longer afford upkeep had abandoned them. Many chose to accept reality, surrender their pretensions, and live quietly as commoners. Those who believed they could maintain their former lifestyle after losing their rank were fools.
The Furt family was exactly that kind of fool.
A girl stood before their estate. Thin, somewhere in her mid-to-late teens, with glossy hair trimmed to her shoulders and finely shaped features. Her expression held no smile-only a slight tension.
In her hands she carried a magic item staff. Beneath her robe she wore thick clothing, protective gloves, and boots. She looked like an adventurer-in truth, a Worker who took jobs without going through the Adventurers' Guild-but she hardly resembled a noble's daughter.
And yet she was the daughter of this foolish Furt family. Her name was Arche Eeb Rile Furt.
She pushed open the poorly maintained gate and entered the estate. An elderly butler named James, who had served the Furt family for years, guided her to the reception room. She'd lived here once. She could have found her way without an escort, but nobles clung to their formalities.
Arche found it tiresome, yet she followed anyway.
"Ah, welcome home, Arche. I've been waiting."
Her father and mother were there. Refined faces, refined clothing, ornate accessories-aristocrats through and through. She averted her eyes from them and looked at a painting on the wall. It hadn't been there last time. More wasted money.
The Furt family was in debt. Despite having their nobility stripped by the Bloody Emperor, her parents refused to see reality. They believed that someday, somehow, when someone finally disposed of the Emperor, the Furt family would be restored. So even in hardship, even without the title, they never ceased behaving like nobles-maintaining an unnecessarily large house, employing servants they didn't need, buying luxuries they couldn't afford. It was noble dignity, they said. Never mind that no such money existed.
Her parents believed in their noble station and refused to work. Without work, the wealth drained away. Their savings from their noble days were gone; they borrowed to sustain their luxuries.
Arche cleaned up after them, working as a Worker-taking direct commissions without the Guild's mediation, no rules, no protection, but compensation to match the risk. Ordinary adventurers couldn't repay their massive debts. Fortunately, Arche possessed exceptional magical talent and an innate gift, allowing her to earn as a Worker. She belonged to a Worker team called Foresight.
The money she earned went to the debt. But-
'Truly, it's absurd.'
How much had that painting cost? Where had the money come from? More debt, surely. Arche was exhausted. No matter how much she earned, her parents squandered it. If they simply abandoned their noble pretensions, they could live on what she made. Her parents spent the money their daughter risked her life to earn on this. Any affection she'd held had long since worn away. Yet she couldn't leave-because of her two younger sisters, Kuuderika and Ureirika. For their sake, she couldn't abandon the Furt household.
Earn money, bring it home. Without that, the family would collapse, and her sisters with it.
"So? Why did you call me here?"
She didn't sit. Her gratitude toward her parents had worn through long ago. Even greetings and small talk with them felt unpleasant. Another demand for money? Another complaint about her work as a Worker?
"Ah, rejoice. We've found you a husband!"
"What?"
The situation was worse than she'd imagined.
"A merchant in the capital. Quite wealthy. He'll buy out your contract. You won't need to do that vulgar Worker business anymore."
"Wait-I can't just suddenly marry-"
"He said he'd provide financial support to the Furt family."
'Money. Her eyes narrowed.
"How much?"
"Four hundred gold coins."
She inhaled sharply. An absurd sum. Three gold coins could support a commoner household in the capital for a month. Four hundred would repay the Furt family's entire debt of three hundred and still leave a surplus. If the remaining hundred were managed carefully, it might last until Kuuderika and Ureirika reached adulthood.
Then suspicion surfaced.
"Is that real? Can anyone actually produce four hundred gold coins?"
"It's no lie. We've already received two hundred. The remaining two hundred will be paid when you marry."
She nearly cursed aloud. 'Already received. Of course they had-so she'd have no choice but to comply. No, they'd intended to force her from the start. They were certain Arche wouldn't refuse. Her father, a typical noble, believed parents decided their daughter's marriage. Refuse, and he'd rage about the debt of raising her. Her mother seemed delighted at the prospect of a wealthy match-the daughter's wishes irrelevant.
And regardless of their intentions, they had sold her. Their own daughter, without her consent, for money, to a merchant. Whatever faint affection had clung to the bottom of her heart like jam at the bottom of a jar vanished completely.
She questioned the value of four hundred gold coins. She knew her face was somewhat above average, but not worth that sum. So what was the money? A chain to bind her. A debt she could never repay, ensuring she could never betray him no matter what. In other words, it was payment to do as he pleased with her young body.
She bit her lip. She remembered a woman she'd once worked with as a Worker-a former illegal prostitute in the capital-and the horrific stories she'd told about men who treated women as objects. A vision surfaced: herself pinned beneath a fat, large, middle-aged man, beaten, violated.
Her legs trembled faintly. Still, she looked at her parents.
"...I understand."
She hated it. But she could only nod. The two hundred had already been received. 'My sisters."
Arche resolved to offer her body, her dignity-even her life.
"The carriage arrives in three days. Prepare yourself."
Three days. Not short, yet far too brief to say farewell to the world.
"...And the merchant's name?"
"Beryl of the Beryl Trading Company."
She repeated the name in her mind.
-x-X-x-
Away from the capital's main thoroughfare stood an inn called the Singing Apple. It was where Arche lodged and where Foresight made their base.
In the tavern on the ground floor, four people sat around a table. Arche spoke.
"...So I won't be able to continue as a Worker with all of you. I'm sorry."
She told them everything she'd kept hidden: the family debt, becoming a Worker for her sisters' sake, and now being bought by a merchant. Her three companions-Hekkeran, Imina, and Roberdyck-listened grimly.
"I'm sorry for hiding it. If this causes you any loss, I'll compensate-"
"Yeah, hiding it was wrong."
Hekkeran Termite, Foresight's leader, nodded-then his stern face softened into a reassuring smile.
"But we're comrades. No one's going to blame you... right, Rober?"
Roberdyck Goltron, the solidly built man, smiled wryly. "Why ask me? Of course I won't blame her."
"Nor will I. You don't need to worry," said Imina, the half-elf, crossing her arms.
"...Everyone."
"More importantly, this merchant bothers me. The Beryl Trading Company?"
Hekkeran's tone was slightly sharp. "Roberdyck, ever heard of it?"
"No, I haven't."
"Imina?"
"...I think there was an adventurer in the Kingdom recently promoted to adamantite with that name."
"I'm asking about a merchant. Different person."
The three pondered. Then Imina glanced at Arche.
"But any merchant who buys a woman with money can't be decent. Four hundred gold coins is suspicious too."
"That's true," Roberdyck agreed.
Arche shared the concern. The story was too dubious, too lacking in substance. An unknown trading company paying a fortune to acquire a fallen noble's daughter made no sense. Her expression, usually reserved, now betrayed unease. Seeing it, Hekkeran spoke quickly.
"Well, look-if things go bad, just run. We'll all flee the capital together. Right?"
"Y-yes, of course," Roberdyck said.
Imina nodded. Arche's eyes welled up.
"...Thank you, everyone."
The three smiled. They ate and drank late into the night, a needless indulgence by their usual standards -but the others paid, hoping the memory would sustain her. Arche felt grateful for comrades far better than she deserved.
-x-X-x-
Time passed. The day arrived.
A carriage stopped before the Furt estate at midday. Arche watched it in a dress-not her Worker gear, but something refined and noble without being gaudy. It was her mother's wasteful purchase, though it had become useful now. Her mother had packed cosmetics as a trousseau, cheerfully imagining her daughter's wedding.
In truth, there was no love in this, only a buyout-and Arche didn't even know if she'd be a wife or a concubine.
She suppressed a sigh and studied the carriage. Its wheels bore Comfortable Wheel magic items; the body was likely enchanted; the horses had magic-laden eyes, clearly some manner of beast. The carriage was luxurious enough to make four hundred gold coins seem trivial. She smiled stiffly. The Beryl Trading Company evidently commanded immense wealth.
A mature maid descended with elegant poise and bowed to Arche and her parents.
'Thank you for waiting. I've come to escort Lady Arche. My name is Lazlo."
Her bearing surpassed that of any servant of the Furt household. Arche, momentarily captivated, hurriedly bowed.
"Thank you for coming. I am Arche Eeb Ryle Furt."
Her parents did not bow. To them, a merchant's maid warranted no deference from nobles. Arche clicked her tongue inwardly. They boasted of wealth yet couldn't humble themselves before those wealthier still. Enough with the noble pretensions.
"Then here is the remaining half, as promised."
Lazlo handed a credit tablet to her parents. Two hundred gold coins, presumably. Two tablets for her worth, Arche thought, and exhaled.
Lazlo smiled. "This way, Lady Arche."
Arche boarded. Her parents looked as if they were celebrating their daughter's departure-unable to see reality. They'd sold her, and they didn't even realize it. Her beloved sisters weren't present; they'd have wept, so Arche had arranged for them to be absent.
The carriage interior was opulent beyond measure-golden embroidery, plush cushions, finer than any true noble's carriage. As she shifted on the soft seat, Lazlo looked at her.
"Is the seating uncomfortable, Lady Arche?"
"N-no, not at all."
Lazlo smiled. "There's no need to be so nervous. Beryl-sama is a kind person."
"Y-yes... I see."
Arche recited her mother's etiquette lessons in her head and nodded. She wanted to ask about this "Beryl-sama" but swallowed the urge as improper.
Lazlo was clearly no ordinary maid. Beautiful, composed-older than Arche, perhaps a little younger than her mother. What struck Arche was her presence. She'd seen many people as a Worker, some commanded attention simply by sitting. Charisma. If the estate employed multiple maids, Lazlo was surely the head.
The carriage moved with only a faint sway. No concern of motion sickness.
"Lady Arche, may I ask about the luggage we loaded?"
"Ah, that's... my mother's trousseau. Cosmetics, undergarments-fine items. Though they seem dull compared to this carriage."
"And?"
"And my Worker equipment. Staff, armor. I couldn't bring myself to discard it."
Her parents had told her to throw away the vulgar tools of her trade, but she couldn't. They held memories of her comrades, of her days adventuring with Foresight.
"My, is that so?"
"...If it's unwelcome, I apologize. I can dispose of-"
"No, no. There's no need. It's quite all right. Please rest easy."
Lazlo smiled at the nervous girl, and Arche concluded she wasn't a bad person. But a good maid didn't guarantee a good master-the Furt butler was competent while his employers were not. She couldn't relax.
The carriage rolled along paved roads, magically cushioned, and soon a large mansion came into view. It looked to have been converted from a noble's residence, showing dignified age rather than disrepair.
"We've arrived, Lady Arche."
'Thank you, Lazlo-sama."
"Just Lazlo is fine."
"...That would be too presumptuous."
"My, my. Modesty is a virtue, but..."
Arche bowed. Until she knew her place here-concubine, mistress, lover, toy-she couldn't afford to treat Lazlo carelessly.
Lazlo opened the gate and the great door. Inside, three maids stood in a row, heads bowed.
"Welcome home, Lazlo-sama."
Lazlo sighed. "There's no need to bow to me. Cixous, Foire, Lumière-return to your posts."
"Yes."
"Understood."
'Very well."
They dispersed. Arche was now certain Lazlo was no ordinary maid.
"My apologies, Lady Arche. They greeted me before you, their guest, and ignored you entirely."
"Ah, no-it's fine."
Arche's breath caught. She wasn't welcome. Conflict with the maids... the life ahead would be harsh. Her heart nearly broke.