Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess-Chapter 335 - Curious Counts

In total, nearly four dozen individuals filled the chamber. The main focus would be on how to coordinate their efforts — rebuilding defences, protecting citizens, reviving trade, and restoring order. Some efforts had already begun independently, but Count Knottley had called this gathering because he wanted a more unified approach. Under the circumstances, that was sensible.

It had been nearly two days since the incursion, and in that time, the city had been in a frenzy of activity. At least, for most of the people present, Scarlett assumed. She, on the other hand, had spent much of the previous day and this morning recovering. Mana exhaustion was not something one simply willed away, and she suspected the mages in attendance could relate to that struggle. Even now, she still felt its lingering effects. If she’d had the luxury, she would have rested even longer — if only to avoid the growing notion among others that she was becoming some kind of workaholic.

Though in the days ahead, she doubted she would have much free time.

She followed the discussion with measured detachment, only speaking when it touched directly on her concerns. A few individuals sought her input when the topic shifted to resource allocation and relief efforts, which was understandable, considering her barony was currently one of the most well-equipped factions to contribute. She offered a few confirmations here and there, deferring the specifics of what deals and contributions her barony would agree to for later. She had already discussed the details with Evelyne, and they would review the final agreements together.

For the gathered nobles and city officials, the immediate priorities were to secure stable food and supply chains for the populace, ensure the city’s safety, and begin reconstruction, in that order. Scarlett had the means to assist with the first and third — to a point. Her resources weren’t infinite. They would have to be strategic with some of their allocations.

One suggestion floated was to use monster carcasses to address expected food shortages. But as far as Scarlett was aware, that approach had already been tested in other cities, and the results weren’t as promising as hoped.

Many of the creatures were inedible by any reasonable standard. The few that weren’t came with logistical hurdles. Preservation and storage were the main issues. The colder weather might keep the meat viable for a few days, maybe a week, but Freybrook’s climate was somewhat fickle thanks to warmer winds that came in intermittently from the south. Besides, monster meat in general was reportedly gamey to the point of only being barely palatable.

The one upside was the supply of other monster materials, which could be processed and sold in time. It also helped that a sizeable part of the harbour and most ships had come through the attack largely intact, meaning trade with neighbouring nations could resume relatively soon. Unlike the empire, most of them weren’t facing the same level of strain.

As the meeting dragged on, Scarlett allowed her thoughts to drift further, though she stayed attentive enough to respond when necessary. Of those present, perhaps half were individuals she had dealt with in some shape or form before, though often only in limited exchanges.

She was well aware that, particularly among the nobles and merchants, she wasn’t especially liked. But that didn’t matter much. What mattered was they understood what she brought to the table. Most had some concept of the resources currently at her disposal and the connections she could leverage. Especially in the wake of the latest attack, she’d noticed a shift in the nobles’ demeanour. If not outright respect, there was at least a new degree of caution in how they spoke to her.

Even those who hadn’t witnessed her actions firsthand had no doubt heard accounts by now. Outside of Brook Tower, the Shields Guild, and Count Knottley’s guard, few had faced as many monsters—or extinguished as many fires—as she and her group. Whether they liked it or not, everyone here understood what that meant.

The meeting continued a while longer, breaking briefly for refreshments, and then finally wrapped. Most agreed to the collaborations and plans proposed. Scarlett made sure to request a written summary be sent to her estate for Evelyne and Lady Withersworth to review.

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As the chamber began to empty, Count Knottley stepped forward, stopping her before she could leave.

“Baroness Hartford,” the large man rumbled. “I’d like a word. In private.”

She studied him for a moment, noting the serious look in his eyes. He always looked grim around her, but this time, she wondered if there wasn’t something different in his expression.

After a pause, she inclined her head. “Very well.”

She followed him from the room, through the manor’s narrow halls, and up to the top floor. There, they entered his office — a modest room dominated by a heavy wooden desk and a broad window that looked out over Freybrook. The view here was even more commanding than before, and it offered an unbroken look at the battered streets below.

Count Knottley crossed the room, the thud of his boots echoing off the floor. He lowered himself into the chair behind the desk, light from the window casting sharp lines across his bald head. His broad, stocky frame always seemed a bit at odds with the size of any chair he sat in — a contrast Scarlett found almost comical, though never enough to mention aloud.

He gestured for her to sit. She did, folding her hands neatly in her lap as she met his gaze.

For several long seconds, he simply watched her in silence.

“What was it that you wished to discuss?” she eventually asked.

He didn’t answer right away. His fingers tensed slightly around the armrests, a faint crease forming between his brows. “…Much, Scarlett. But I have my doubts whether you’ll be forthcoming.”

“That would depend on the subject,” she replied. “Though I will admit, there are many topics I see little reason to share with you.”

His frown deepened. After a pause, he exhaled through his nose and released his grip on the chair, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk. He clasped his hands together.

“Can I trust that you will continue acting in the best interests of Freybrook and its people?” he asked.

Scarlett arched a single brow. “Naturally.”

He didn’t look convinced.

“I have no desire to see this city—or the empire—crumble around me, Count,” she said, her expression cooling. “To be entirely frank, I find it somewhat insulting that you would question my commitment.”

Knottley’s lips thinned. “I’ve known you since you were little more than a babe,” he replied. “Can you blame me?”

“I certainly can. And I do.”

She considered him, then shifted slightly in her chair. Unfolding her hands, she leaned back and crossed her arms.

“Whatever your opinions of me may be, know that I fully intend to uphold my duties as a noble and a servant of His Majesty. That includes protecting his cities and citizens, even at risk of my own well-being.”

“Hmph,” the man grunted. “That’s good, at least. But how exactly do you intend to do it?”

“In precisely the same manner I have up to now. You are already aware that I have been investing a considerable share of my barony’s resources to aid in the empire’s recovery efforts. And as you witnessed during the attack, my personal contributions are hardly negligible.”

“I did see,” he admitted. He regarded her for a while, then nodded, his expression shifting to something more neutral. “You’ve become an impressive woman.”

Scarlett tilted her head slightly, waiting. His tone suggested more was coming.

Sure enough, after a short pause, he leaned forward even further. “I want to know how you became this woman.”

A quiet scoff escaped her lips before she could stop it. “What?”

He held her gaze, a silent intensity in his eyes. “Your father was one of my closest friends. He often lamented your apparent lack of interest—or talent—in learning proper magic,” he said, voice low and heavy. “After Castor passed, I kept an eye on you. You were his daughter. And a companion to my own.”

Scarlett forced her expression to remain still, though a familiar twist settled in her chest at the mention of the original’s father. She had seen glimpses of the man in portraits at the mansion, as well as in the fragmented Memories within the Hall of Echoes. But those recollections were far from her own.

“I know the woman you were a year ago,” Knottley continued. “And she is very different from the one sitting in front of me now. My daughter is too kind to speak it aloud, but I know that even she’s been unsettled by the change.”

Scarlett studied him carefully.

“…I assume you are implying something beyond the simple fact that I have matured since then,” she said evenly.

She’d already endured more conversations than she cared for on that topic from those who had known the original Scarlett.

Knottley shook his head. “I didn’t believe that myself until recently.”

“Then I suppose you are referring to my magic.”

“Yes.” His tone was firm. “I appreciate what you did during the attack — deeply. But that’s separate. I’d be dishonouring Castor’s memory if I didn’t confront this directly.” He watched her for a bit. “So, tell me, Scarlett. How did you become such a powerful mage?”

She held his stare, letting the silence stretch between them.

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Then, finally, she spoke, her expression still cool. “Rather than dancing around the question, why not simply state whatever suspicions you already hold?”

Count Knottley’s gaze hardened. “…There have been accusations before. Claims that you’ve been consorting with demons. Is there any truth to them?”

Scarlett almost laughed. “Is there any point in asking? I could simply lie.”

The man was silent. Then he spoke.

“I swear upon my name and house: as long as you have not shed innocent blood or betrayed the empire, I will not move against you for whatever means you’ve employed.” His voice was steady and, surprisingly, earnest. “So tell me, Scarlett. Have you struck a pact with a demon?”

Her eyes widened slightly as she stared at him.

Was he serious?

She had always assumed the man disliked her. In fact, their interactions most of the time had been little more than tense, clipped exchanges with one party exasperating the other. Beyond that, he was one of the most principled—if painfully rigid—nobles she knew. For him to make such a vow…

Why? Was it simply because of his relationship with Castor Hartford?

….Annoyingly enough, that thought both irritated and pleased Scarlett.

They sat in silence for a while, Knottley watching her, waiting. Eventually, she sighed.

“You already know that you are not the first to suspect me of dealing with demons in exchange for power,” she said. “I will tell you precisely what I have told others: I have made no pact with any demon to enhance my abilities — at least not in the way you are likely imagining.”

His brow lifted slightly.

“Before you ask, yes, I have had interactions with demons,” she continued. “As I believe I made clear during my testimony at the Conclave in Elystead, I possess a degree of expertise in demonology. That knowledge was gained through firsthand experience over the past half-year. On one occasion, I struck a controlled pact with a demon outside Ambercrest to lure it into the open and neutralise it safely. It was done under strict precautions, with a capable Shielder present in case anything went wrong.”

Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of her irritation creeping into her tone. “But I am not in the business of sacrificing innocent lives to further my own influence. The reason I have changed—why I have become the ‘mage’ you saw two days ago—is due to a multitude of factors, none of which I have the time or inclination to explain in full. If you are truly concerned about the methods I have used, you may speak with my sister. She is familiar with some of the specifics, and I am aware that you trust her far more than you do me.”

Count Knottley scrutinised her closely. “…I never knew you to have any interest in demonology.”

“I never did. But much has changed.”

Yet another deep rumble left the man, as though he was considering what to make of Scarlett’s words, and weighing whether to press any further. “I think I’ll pay a visit to your estate again,” he said eventually. “It’s been years since I last did, and I haven’t spoken to Evelyne in some time. I heard she was injured during the first attacks.”

Scarlett gave him a long look. He wasn’t thinking that she’d done something to Evelyne, was he?

…Even if he did, it was fine. Evelyne would likely cover for her, regardless. And if necessary, Lady Withersworth could provide some additional reassurance.

“Speaking of,” Knottley said, some of the tension in his posture easing — though it seemed to be replaced by a measure of reluctance in his tone. “…My daughter expressed her concern when she heard you had personally taken part in the city’s defence.”

Scarlett paused. “Did she now?”

“Yes.”

“Is she…all right?”

He nodded. “She’s safe. She was in Elystead during the attack. I was more worried during the first incursion — she was caught in Ambercrest at the time, but she managed to get out unscathed.”

“I see,” Scarlett murmured, her thoughts drifting.

It had been some time since she last spoke with Livvi Knottley. Among those tied to the original Scarlett, Livvi had been one of the few she found tolerable. Given her administrative role at the Shields Guild, it was likely she was overwhelmed with work right about now.

Knottley cleared his throat, shifting in his chair as though realising he’d wandered into uncomfortable territory and wasn’t sure how to return. After a moment, he gave a shorter nod and motioned toward the door.

“I’ll send word before I come,” he said. “You’re dismissed.”

Scarlett considered him for a bit. That was it? After his probing, he was content with so little?

…Well, she wasn’t about to argue.

Without a word, she rose and left the room, the door closing softly behind her.

The meeting was over.