Inheriting the Novel

Chapter 2 : Inheriting the Novel (1)

Inheriting the Novel (1)

"Young master! Young master!"

When I regained consciousness, a whole day had passed.

I groggily sat up, prompted by the urgent voice of a woman calling me.

"Ugh, uuugh... Monet?"

"Yes, it's me. Young master, why are you sleeping on the floor?"

The floor? What on earth is she talking about? Was I really sleeping on the floor?

My head throbbed, and my thoughts wouldn't work properly.

"Haa. But what's up, so early in the morning?"

"Young master, it's already 12 o'clock. Didn't you forget something?"

"Twelve? Wait... twelve? Did you say twelve o'clock?!"

I hurriedly got up.

Because today, at twelve, I was supposed to meet Viscount Delmore and help him with his work.

"Monet, hurry and bring me a change of clothes..."

It was then.

[Character identified.]

[Setting Confirmation is activating]

==

〈Monet〉

Age: 20

Gender: Female

Role in the story: Servant of House Vanhart (main character)

Abilities: Miraculous luck

Special notes: A main character in the novel 'The Sound of the Sword.' The woman Fabian trusts the most, and she has been like a sibling to him since childhood. She has outstanding dexterity and incredible luck.

==

I blankly read the letters floating in the air.

"Young master, what's wrong?"

Perhaps thinking that I looked strange staring blankly into space, Monet asked in a puzzled tone.

Only then did I snap back to my senses.

"Ah, no... What's that next to you?"

"Next to me?"

Monet spoke as if she really knew nothing. I grabbed her shoulders tightly and shouted.

"You really can't see this? You can't see this thing beside you?"

"Huh? I—Is there something next to me?"

Monet looked to her side with a flustered face, but it was only because she was baffled by my actions.

No matter how you looked at her, it wasn't the face of someone seeing 'letters' like I was.

If Monet had seen the letters floating beside her, she wouldn't just react like this.

Magic? No, I've never heard of such bizarre magic existing in the world.

This was like...

'...the novel's setting?'

With that sudden thought, I remembered the letter I'd been reading right before losing consciousness yesterday.

It was only a guess, but it was clear that the letters floating next to Monet were related to the missing letter. I had no other leads.

"Young... master?"

Monet's cautious voice calling me, as I stood dazed, snapped me to attention.

I hurriedly looked around, but my father's letter was nowhere to be seen.

"Monet! Did you see the letter my father sent yesterday?"

"A letter? I came to tidy the barracks in the morning, but I didn't see any."

"So that's it..."

In other words, the letter had disappeared somewhere.

It was unbelievable, but that made this phenomenon feel even more real.

"Young master, don't you have to hurry? Viscount Delmore is waiting for you."

"Ah, yes. All right."

The letters still floating beside Monet bothered me, but I couldn't stand there spacing out forever.

However strange this all was, the priority was not to be late for my appointment.

'My mind's all over the place.'

I pinched my cheek hard—a sharp pain shot through. Clearly, I wasn't dreaming.

'And to think, she's a main character.'

I glanced at Monet's setting while she helped me dress.

If that setting was true, Monet was one of the main characters in the novel. Moreover, she had extraordinary luck.

It was hard to understand why she would be in the fallen House Vanhart.

If she was truly lucky, shouldn't she have either left before the family collapsed or brought fortune to the house?

The 'protagonist Fabian' mentioned under Special Notes also bothered me.

All I knew was that he was the protagonist of this world.

And that he was already dead.

'... I don't have enough information. I'll have to figure things out step by step.'

Calming my confused mind, I left the barracks.

* * *

I rushed over and was greeted by the indifferent face of Viscount Delmore.

He pointed to the messy supply depot as if he'd been waiting for me to arrive, and said,

"Sir Vanhart, I'll leave the organizing to you today."

"Huh?"

Of course, I was dumbfounded.

I came to help with the work, not to do all of it on my own.

"What do you mean, right now...?"

"You're aware that Duke Gale's banquet is about to be held, right?"

"Yes, I am."

"I've been called to help with preparations for the event, so I must head there right away. This is unfortunate for you."

He didn't look the least bit sorry, despite his words.

'Helping with the banquet? What a load of nonsense.'

As Viscount Delmore was in charge of all the supplies, I knew he would have some role in the banquet preparations.

But there were still several days until the banquet.

There was no reason for him to be so busy already, so it was clear he was just trying to screw me over.

'Could it be...?'

Seeing him even wearing a sly grin, I imagined the worst.

'Does he still hold a grudge against our family?'

Viscount Delmore was a man who survived in high society on the strength of his smooth tongue, boasting considerable connections.

But it hadn't always been that way.

In the past, before he established his place in society, he approached my father.

Looking back now, he must have wanted to use the strength of House Vanhart for his own affairs.

But Father, seeing through his opportunism, treated him coldly and distanced himself.

'Of course, things can't go smoothly.'

And now, by coincidence, I was approaching Delmore to use his connections.

But it seemed I'd messed up from the start.

Judging by Delmore's attitude, he clearly hadn't forgotten what happened back then.

'Should I give up on Viscount Delmore...?'

It was a shame to lose a high-ranking noble with a web of connections, but I wasn't foolish enough to waste time on the impossible.

'Looks like all I'll be doing is cleaning pointlessly.'

But there was no way I could back out now.

Like it or not, today I'd end up meaninglessly organizing the storage room.

As I glared at Delmore's departing back, suppressing my rising anger, it happened.

'Huh?'

As I stared at him closely, the same kind of letters I'd seen earlier appeared beside him.

'This is...?'

When I checked his setting, I couldn't hide my grin. It was just too interesting.

'If that information is true...'

I went over in my mind what I'd just seen beside Viscount Delmore, but shook my head.

Trying to organize my thoughts in the middle of work wasn't getting me anywhere.

'I should just finish this quickly.'

Sighing, I issued instructions to the servants who were waiting for orders.

"All right, I'll check the supplies, so you servants move the items accordingly."

Not only had the supplies come from the royal family, but goods had arrived from various noble houses, making the storehouse rather disorderly.

It was the servants who moved everything, but sorting it all was no easy task.

It was probably because Delmore knew this that he dumped the job on me.

"That item belongs to Baron Mior's house. Move it over there."

"Huh? Y-yes, understood."

"And these—it looks like they're from Sir Masserin's house. Move them over that way."

Even with items whose origins were obscure, I sorted them out easily.

The servants wore skeptical expressions at first, and later, seeing everything correctly organized, looked as if they'd seen a ghost.

Their eyes all seemed to ask me the same thing.

'He didn't even check—how does he know at a glance?'

Of course, it was only natural, as I sorted things perfectly without even closely examining the scattered goods.

It wasn't as if I had any special talent for organizing.

==

〈Fine Garments〉

Fine garments sent from Baron Issen's house.

A work by the famous designer Madame Sainte-Dure of Talua kingdom's capital, crafted with fabrics imported from the Asktalin empire.

==

'Even on the items themselves?'

I could simply see who sent the items.

Thanks to that, what normally would have required several hours could be finished in less than one.

'Too easy.'

As the organizing wrapped up smoothly, I noticed a servant carrying a large box.

'From Marquis Eaton's house?'

There was no need to check the setting; the family crest of Marquis Eaton was stamped right on the box lid.

As it was sent from their house, it would be delivered to Lord Eaton's barracks within a day or two...

"Wait!"

"Ah?! Wh-what's wrong all of a sudden?"

I quickly called the servant carrying the box to stop.

"Set that down, right now."

"Huh? Wh-what's going on...?"

As the servant put down the box with a puzzled expression, I immediately tore open the sealed container.

Naturally, the surrounding servants were shocked.

"Th-this is from Marquis Eaton. Even if you're Sir Vanhart, you shouldn't..."

"Only if it really is from Marquis Eaton."

"... Sorry?"

I wasn't about to explain myself to the baffled servants.

The real issue was what was inside that box.

"This is insane..."

Inside were dozens of bottles of ink.

Pens were used even on the battlefield, so that was normal enough.

If they were just ordinary inkwells, that is.

==

〈Poisoned Inkwells〉

Items prepared by Baian Deoric to frame Tedric Eaton. They contain slow-acting poison.

==

My heart pounded.

A frame-up meant something serious would happen, one that someone could be blamed for.

And if it involved the famous Deoric and Eaton families of Talua kingdom, it would clearly shake the kingdom's army itself.

'What should I do...'

Should I reveal this?

No, running around telling a story I wasn't even completely sure about wouldn't help.

It might even put the blame on me.

But staying silent—if a real incident broke out...

'Hold on.'

I hesitated only for a moment before a thought flashed across my mind.

'... This is an opportunity.'

If the 'Setting' described here was true.

And if the ability I had was not just an illusion or lie, but real.

Then this was unquestionably a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me.