Volume 1 Chapter 8: You really were a damn little brat, weren’t you?

“Faaah… Ugh! Damn… It’s been ages since I last drank, and now my head’s killing me…”

Clutching my pounding head, I sit up. As soon as I wake up, I’m already annoyed.

Why does alcohol always make people suffer the next day?
I wish it would just stop.

“…Good morning, Master.”

“…You too?”

Nanashi staggers into the room. Her appearance is a bit disheveled, and she clearly doesn’t look her best.

Damn, she really went all out last night, didn’t she?

That said, I have no intention of telling her to quit drinking. It’d be ridiculous to restrict her anyway, especially since I’m technically the one in her service. My only hope is that she doesn’t drink so much it affects her the next day.

After all, I’m a lord and a noble by birth—I’m important, you know.

Nanashi sighs dramatically.

“Yes. I wonder why alcohol always makes people suffer the next day. I wish it would just stop.”

Don’t say the same thing I’m thinking! It’s creepy and gross…

“Even though I only opened one bottle of your treasured alcohol, Master…”

“Do you want to die? How dare you casually open my precious stash without permission?”

Whose prized liquor did you down last night, you little—?!

I assumed you were just knocking back the stuff you bought with your own money… but no, you had to touch my treasured supply. That alcohol is one of my few pleasures in life—something I only indulge in when Ashvin acknowledges it. …Well, I do drink it secretly sometimes, so no one notices. And it would be easier if I could just drag Artemis and Izun along next time.

“Lord Balor, may I come in?”

Knock, knock.

In that instant, I switch from disgruntled drunk to the super-handsome, capable, saintly lord everyone expects me to be.

“Ah, of course.”

“…You’re quick to switch.”

Honestly, anyone who can’t flip their mindset in a snap is hopeless.

“Oh my, Nanashi is already here. Then it seems I won’t need to help Lord Balor get dressed.”

Ashvin peeks in, clearly intending to assist me. Normally, I’d just leave it to Nanashi—but that would fluster me. Wait, wait.

“No, I think I’ll ask Ashvin instead.”

“Oh.”

If I let my guard down around Nanashi, who knows when she might stab me? I don’t trust her one bit.

Then again, Ashvin might be the better choice. …Well, I can change clothes on my own anyway—I really don’t need any help.

“Then, if you’ll excuse my presumption…”

Ashvin cheerfully approaches to help me change, humming a tune as she does. She probably has a lovely voice and sings beautifully, but her humming only makes my throbbing hangover headache pound even harder. What’s so enjoyable about making me suffer?

“By the way, wasn’t it a bit noisy last night?” 

I suddenly ask—a thought that’s been bugging me. After drinking for the first time in ages, I eventually managed to sleep soundly, though I did briefly wake when I heard an extremely loud male voice. I quickly fell back asleep, yet that voice was anything but ordinary.

Wait—was that a scream? Nanashi’s been drinking my treasured alcohol—which, according to my standards, should be punishable by execution! But she wouldn’t know that, would she? I figured Ashvin might have noticed something, so I pressed on.

“No? I didn’t notice anything… Maybe you were dreaming, since you were drunk?”

Ashvin tilts her head in puzzlement. Hmph.

I was genuinely spooked by what sounded like a man’s death throes. I suppose it was just a dream then. Sure, I did drink—if Ashvin says so, it must be.

…………

Nanashi’s inscrutable expression still bugs me.

“Hehe.”

While still humming, Ashvin finishes helping me change. She deftly dusts off tiny lint from my shoulders and crisply straightens my clothes, clearly satisfied with her work. Now that I think about it, when was the last time she laughed like that?

“Hehe. I never imagined I’d get to serve Lord Balor like this.”

“Ah, indeed.”

It seems Ashvin feels the same, smiling brightly at me and prompting a smile in return.

You really are a damn little brat, aren’t you?

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Foreigners are despised. And that’s probably for the best. They appear out of nowhere and use violence to seize the wealth others have painstakingly built. These nomadic interlopers have constructed a civilization by taking what they please. With their distinctive brown skin, they wreak havoc even in our country. Though they’re notorious for doing as they please, their victims certainly don’t just sit by silently—they fight back, intercept, and ultimately capture. In that struggle, one might even consider death preferable.

After all, those captured face the wrath of people who harbor intense hatred toward foreigners. Moreover, because these outsiders have built such a civilization, they’re automatically deemed barbarians and looked down upon. In short, they aren’t considered our equals—a truly outrageous notion. Yet in this country, such logic isn’t far-fetched, and many actually believe it. It’s not hard to imagine that what awaits captured foreigners is nothing short of hell.

“It’s alright. Onee-chan will protect you.”

That, after all, is the life Ashvin has known—as a captive in that very country.