Virgin Knight Who Is the Frontier Lord in the Gender Switched World - Chapter 87

There is a land known as the Polydoro Territory.

It is located slightly away from the border line with the Kingdom of Virendorf, a fellow elector of the Holy Gusten Empire and the Kingdom of Anhalt, to the right.

In terms of the size of the territory, it is extensive compared to its population of just under 300 people.

There are large mountains, and the land and forests have accumulated rainwater, providing high-quality water resources to the rivers flowing through the territory.

There is no need to avoid upstream refuse or waste.

In short, as a land for food production and human habitation, it could be considered of the highest quality.

The reason for the small population is because this land is located near an unpleasant border line.

—But that is not the only reason.

I have heard that another cause is the complete lack of what could be called a specialty product.

It is, sadly, only valued as a food production area.

These were the words of Lord Faust von Polydoro, the lord of this frontier territory.

However, his words cannot be trusted much.

He might be serious in what he says, but it somehow does not feel right.

As I, Martina von Bösel, spin the knowledge crammed into my small brain as a 9-year-old, there are concerns that arise.

“I think this is a good land.”

Indeed, between Anhalt and Virendorf, the damage from wars.

The deterioration of security, emergence of looting groups, and the impacts of food and soldier conscription are painful.

There are myriad factors of instability.

But I think the population could be a bit higher.

Certainly, for the size of this land, having only 300 residents is too few.

Especially since this land is owned by Lord Polydoro, not royal land.

There are military duties, but no need to pay taxes to the royal family.

Over the centuries, agricultural productivity has certainly improved, but food is not free.

The Polydoro territory exports its food and earns foreign currency.

The value of the land must be clearly high.

“Right. It’s really good land.”

The chief retainer, Lady Helga, keenly reacts to the words that spill from my mouth.

Her voice was filled with joy.

Pride as a person living in the Polydoro territory could be felt.

My thoughts then steer in a negative direction, wondering why there are so few people.

There must be a reason.

Considering the land of the Polydoro territory, which is suitable for agriculture, it should be able to sustain 2000 people on its own.

With investment in materials, development from a village to a city could be expected.

Duchess Astarte, who wishes to take Lord Polydoro as a lover, has hinted at this.

That perverted and buttocks-loving, yet clever and handsome Duychess said so.

Her estimate must not be mistaken.

Well, she is a pervert.

In other words, her perversion is the problem.

“Martina, as an apprentice knight of Faust, you will be going to the Polydoro territory. I would like you to report back about it.”

This is a request from the perverted Duchess Astarte.

It’s a bad point about Duchess Astarte.

She shows a deep interest in capable people, and unreservedly praises their talents.

If they are truly capable, she grants them status and wealth, and has even given knighthood to common soldiers.

This is perceived as a talent obsession by the public.

This could be common to the Astarte Ducal family.

Although I first said it was a bad point, on consideration, there are good points as well.

In a rigid organization, stirring stagnant blood is not a bad thing at all.

However, her interest in Lord Faust von Polydoro is clearly problematic.

“She must be foolish.”

I mutter very softly, ensuring Lady Helga does not hear.

Whenever it involves colors.

When it involves a person like Lord Faust, Duchess Astarte rapidly shows her foolish side.

It was evident in my failed plea for mercy, where Lord Faust, ever mild-mannered, showed genuine disdain towards Duchess Astarte.

Later, as Lady Helga informed me, the incident where she was almost killed by 20 Polydoro territory residents who turned demonic after she publicly groped Lord Faust’s buttocks and tarnished his honor.

In the royal capital, Lord Faust’s lower mansion was given as an advisor to the second princess.

There, as an advisor to the first princess, under the guise of monitoring him, Duchess Astarte keeps watch over every action of Lord Faust.

—In reality, it’s just a desire to know everything about the man she is smitten with.

Ah, it’s no good.

She is a complete pervert.

Not something creepy or amorphous, but that very thing itself.

It’s incomprehensible how Lord Faust, as a man, could allow such a person, even a comrade and Duchess, to come close.

Normally, men should feel aversion to such a woman, shouldn’t they?

But.

“…”

I, too, who am being forced to engage in espionage in the Polydoro territory against my will by Duchess Astarte, who wants reports on Lord Faust’s actions and the governance of his territory disguised as letters to my aunt—am I not equally despicable?

My head begins to hurt a bit.

I initially intended to refuse.

But then, my aunt, Herma von Bösel, begged me with her head bowed to the floor, just like Lord Polydoro did.

“Please do exactly as Duchess Astarte says. Our family, having no other backing, has no choice but to depend on the ducal house,” she said.

If it were someone I truly despised, ignoring them would have been easy.

But I do not hate my aunt.

The fault lies with my grandmother, who did not name a successor, and my mother, who did not prepare properly and rebelled against it.

It felt awkward to disobey my frail aunt, who might be misunderstood as someone I despise.

However—

The survival of our house, and my plea for mercy, came at the cost of Lord Faust von Polydoro throwing away his honor.

Leaking the secrets of Lord Polydoro would be the lowest of actions.

But what words could reach my aunt, who is frail and nearly broken in spirit?

So, for the moment, I nodded in agreement.

Meaning, I decided to deceive about everything.

I will tell Duchess Astarte a little about Lord Polydoro, as requested.

But I will not divulge any of the true secrets Lord Polydoro is hiding.

That is my compromise.

Or rather, Duchess Astarte, being a clever pervert, must already be aware of this.

Isn’t her real desire to know everything about Lord Polydoro’s thoughts?

If it suits her, she would want to know about the territory as well—her  demands are probably just that simple.

There’s no need to think too deeply about it.

“Mother, I have now returned to the territory,” He says, regaining focus after a long deliberation.

Now, I am living in Lord Polydoro’s mansion, in the home of the lord who governs the 300 residents of this territory.

Lord Polydoro had remarked that the lower mansion given in the royal capital was obviously more splendid than this one, and I had been given one of the several rooms set aside for guests.

Well, Lord Polydoro often undervalues himself and his possessions, which is uncharacteristic for a knight of high pride.

He gets furious when his mother or territory is insulted, but he generally doesn’t care much about himself.

The mansion is indeed old.

According to Lady Helga, because the lordly family pays so little attention to it, the face of the territory—this mansion—is embarrassingly dilapidated, and the residents come to petition for repairs.

How many generations have lived here?

“For a long time, I apologize for having been away from our beloved Polydoro territory. Military duties are unavoidable, but this past month’s absence was due to personal matters. However, my honor as a knight was at stake. It may sound like an excuse, but I had no other choice,” Lord Faust’s melodious voice fills the mansion.

It was in the entrance of the mansion.

Standing next to Lord Faust were Lady Helga, the chief retainer, and I, Martina, an apprentice knight.

No one else was present.

“I cannot reveal everything, even to my mother. I apologize. But I swear to God, nothing shameful has occurred in the territory. I can assert that I have acted with the highest pride of a knight, true to the good and beautiful.”

No one else was around, but Lord Faust continued speaking.

Those were words addressed to his deceased mother and former lady, Marianne.

“Please stop sharpening your claws on the armor. It’s probably not suitable for that.”

“Meow.”

Those were also words for his beloved cat, Marianne.

Why is he talking to a cat all this time?

I glance at Lady Helga next to me.

“Um… the former Lady Marianne once said something during her lifetime,” Helga murmured, turning her face away.

Lord Faust continued.

“No, my mother. While on her deathbed, she lifted Marianne and said, ‘When I’m gone, through this cat, I’ll be watching over you.'”

No matter how absurd it sounds, it’s troubling.

Lord Faust, who picks up the cat Marianne that had been scratching its claws on the armor and walks towards us, holds her in his hands, stopping the claw-sharpening, and the cat meows somewhat discontentedly.

“Meow.”

Not just a meow.

“Did the former Lady Marianne enjoy jokes?” I asked, wondering about the nature of her humor.

“No, quite the opposite. She hardly ever made jokes. Now that I think about it, perhaps she disliked them, or maybe it was because of me that she felt she couldn’t afford such luxuries,” Lord Faust replied, demeaning himself again.

When speaking of the late Lady Marianne, Lord Faust often looks down, showing a face full of regret—perhaps recalling unpleasant memories. Duchess Astarte, with her peculiar fondness, seems to cherish these sadder aspects of Lord Faust. She once blurted out how irresistible she found it when the usually stoic Faust showed guilt and sadness. Truly, she is a pervert. If only she would disappear.

“But well, whatever the case, she said it. It might have been serious, or it might have been a joke. I can’t tell which. So, rather than showing a gloomy face at her graveside, I decided to respond to what might have been her only joke by reporting to Marianne the cat about what has happened while I’ve been away from the territory.”

“Meow.”

Not just a “meow.”

I don’t hate cats, but as an apprentice knight, it’s difficult when such statements are made. Such comments make it impossible for me to simply place this cat, Marianne, on my lap carelessly.

“Honestly, it’s also a bit troubling for the residents. When this cat gets into mischief, we can’t very well scold her,” I mentioned, trying to express the residents’ perspective.

“No, I make distinctions there. Besides, does Marianne really cause trouble? Doesn’t she catch the mice that raid our fields and barns?” 

Indeed, the cost of feeding Marianne a bit of meat while Lord Faust pets her head seems minimal compared to her value in killing mice, the peasants’ foes and pests.

“Generally, she doesn’t leave the territory, but sometimes when she goes out for a walk far away, she is, after all, the beloved cat of Lord Faust and the living reminder of the former Lady Marianne. Can we really leave Marianne unattended? What if she gets eaten by wild animals? I’ve seen young people agonizing over this.” 

“I’ve never heard of such a thing before. I’ve never seen such scenes,” Lord Faust replied, surprised.

“Perhaps you haven’t noticed because, when you are in the territory, you often sleep in the stable with your horse, Flügel. We’ve been hesitant about whether to advise you on this matter.”

Hmm.

At least, with this, the content for this month’s letter to that perverted Duchess Astarte is decided. This level of detail should suffice. It might already be information he knows, but still.

“Report on the territory immediately. There’s no need to show such consideration. It can be left as it is. I love cats dearly, and I care greatly for Marianne. The residents shouldn’t have to abandon their work or feel the need to protect her from harm just to keep an eye on her activities.” 

“Understood. I will immediately communicate this to the village chief and the chief retainer, and inform everyone in the village,” I confirmed.

“Do that.” 

Lord Faust von Polydoro loves cats dearly.

The content for reporting to Duke Astarte should indeed be just this simple.