The Abandoned Duchess Seems to Want a Peaceful Life - Chapter 132

Chapter 132: Ancient Manuscript

“And I brought this from the lord. He said you can return it whenever you like, but he asked me to be careful with it.”

August said, holding out a bundle wrapped in crimson cloth and tied with a decorative cord. I took it, placed it on my desk, and untied it. A book emerged from within.

“A book about the saint, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but it’s more like the duke’s autobiography from that time, or perhaps a diary. The relevant section has a bookmark, but it’s quite fragile, so please be careful not to tear it.”

As August said, the book itself was so old that the whole thing was quite brittle.

Parchment, paper made from tanned sheepskin, is weak against heat, humidity, and light, making it a material prone to deterioration over time. The ink must also have been less stable than current ink. It was smudged in places, blending with the parchment fibers. Some pages had wormholes and mold, and some were stuck together and wouldn’t open.

“I was told I could look at it, so I took a peek, but it was written in Old Language and I hardly understood anything.”

“I can understand a bit of Old Language, so I’ll be careful.”

I answered, turning to the page with the bookmark. It was indeed written in Old Language, with faded cursive script, and it would require quite a bit of deciphering.

“This is from 249 years ago. It says a young woman appeared in the royal castle courtyard, accompanied by light.”

” … You can actually read it? Honestly, I don’t think Old Language is considered part of a lady’s education.”

“The daughter of the Crawford main house could potentially marry into the royal family, so she’s required to have not only the education of a lady, but also all kinds of knowledge.”

The woman who appeared in the royal castle was recognized as a saint, and powerful lords were summoned to the royal castle to make use of the saint’s abilities and knowledge.

The initial entry in the book, written by the duke himself, seemed to show that he was initially skeptical of the saint’s existence, but it was a royal command to summon them, so he set out for the capital.

His reluctance could be felt through the writing, even though it was faint. The Oldrand duke at that time seems to have been a bit of a curmudgeon.

But I can understand his feelings. It takes ten days by carriage to travel from the north to the capital. Even with a limited stay, at least a month, and it’s unclear how long it would take for an audience and interaction with the saint, he probably didn’t want to leave his territory for that long.

—No, the capital was in a different location, wasn’t it?

The current Francesca Kingdom, where Melfina and the others live, is celebrating its 240th anniversary. Most of its territory was inherited from the previous Bran Kingdom, but the city currently designated as the capital was the land ruled by the ancestors of the current royal family, who were nobles of the Bran Kingdom.

The old capital is located further south than the current capital. I’ve heard that it’s now just a run-down old town, far from its former glory.

I was curious that a new country arose ten years after the saint’s arrival, and the country she descended upon was destroyed, but I decided to focus on the book in front of me for now.

During the trip to the capital, there were continuous entries expressing concern about a recent illness that was plaguing the kingdom. It seemed that the entire village had been afflicted with a disorder of consciousness, nobles were experiencing false statements, fainting, and especially miscarriages, and the atmosphere in the entire country had become bleak.

Skipping over the undecipherable parts, the duke had reached the capital in no time. I traced the words, my breath caught by the description of his audience with the saint.

A young woman with black hair and black eyes, about thirteen years old in appearance, but she claimed to be seventeen. She exuded a vivacity not typical of noble women. Her name was…

—Maria.

I could feel my skin tingling beneath my clothes.

‘Through the saint’s wisdom, it was determined that the problem that was shaking the country was a small monster that parasitizes wheat. No one who ate wheat from the fields the saint blessed showed the symptoms. And by using the method she instructed to select wheat, the spread of the illness could be greatly reduced.’

The writing here became faint and difficult to read, and the account of how she spent her time in the capital, who was around her, and the duke’s changing feelings about the saint, who he initially considered a fraud, were conveyed in a fragmented manner.

‘Maria is a wonderful woman. Recently, she has been spending a lot of time with the prime minister’s son. It is said that she prefers the simple countryside over the capital and often visits his estate.’

From the point where the designation changed from ‘saint’ to her name, the energy of the manuscript increased. The duke expressed a desire to encounter her wisdom even more, calling her a ‘wonderful woman’ in an old-fashioned way.

‘Some noble women seem to be harassing Maria. I cannot possibly overlook such an act of disrespect towards the saint who saved our country. The Royal Knights are said to be investigating, but by eliminating the source of the problem, I might be able to spend more time with her.’

While he didn’t explicitly express love or romance, his desire to win her favor was heart-wrenchingly clear.

The description of the people around the saint, the church and the temple both wanting her, and the duke’s displeasure with their methods. Then, his indignation at the royal family for trying to keep men away from her…

‘I heard she fled to the prime minister’s estate in the north. The royal family and the prime minister are at odds, and the country is starting to split in two…’

The writing became undecipherable here, and the next page was stuck together. Even if I forced it open, it wouldn’t be in a state where I could decipher it.

Skipping a few pages, the duke’s return to his territory was recorded. The entries became sporadic after that, continuing with records of major events and disasters that occurred in his territory.

‘The prime minister’s family has issued a statement that they will establish a new country with the saint as their banner. I have sworn allegiance to the Bran royal family, but the saint is a more noble being than the royal family, and she is also a balancer of this world. I will follow her, along with those who were by her side back then…’

That seemed to be the end of the entries regarding the saint. It’s probably in the following years that the family who received the saint—the current Francesca royal family—absorbed the Bran Kingdom and established the current Francesca Kingdom.

The saint’s abilities, knowledge, charm, popular support, and faith, coupled with the support of powerful lords… the old Bran royal family must have been powerless.

“… The saint actually existed.”

“It’s been so long ago that hardly any historical records remain. It’s like a figure from a fairy tale. The fact that such an old manuscript still exists is largely thanks to the cold climate of the north.”

“That’s true. If something like this had been left behind in the south, it would have been eaten by moisture and mold long ago.”

We laughed lightly, closing the book. I lowered my hand under the desk to hide the tremor that had begun in my cold fingertips.

The large-scale epidemic before the saint’s arrival, the gathering of the lords from all over the country, and the circumstances surrounding Maria’s gathering of followers. As her abilities and knowledge solved problems, they became drawn to her, wanting her love.

And from among them, one was chosen to gain immense benefits and happiness.

It was very similar to the Maria of the Kingdom of Hearts I knew, though the details differed slightly.

“Thank you for lending me such a precious document. I’d like to read it more carefully in my room, so may I borrow it for a while?”

“Yes, it’s a valuable item, so I’ll carry it back when you’re done. Please let me know when you’re ready to return it.”

“I’ll do that. A lot of it is already too damaged to read, but it’s a valuable document from 250 years ago, so maybe I should make a copy?”

Vegetable paper is less prone to damage than parchment, and the ink should be better in terms of color and adhesion than it used to be. It seemed like a good idea, but Cedric stopped me.

“Lady Melfina. Are you aware that you’re working quite hard even during your daytime duties? Please get some rest at night.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t expect to hear that from a knight who does running and sword practice in the middle of the night.”

I pretended to be annoyed, and August burst out laughing. Even Marie, for once, covered her mouth and laughed.

“You got me there, Cedric.”

“Shut up, don’t touch me.”

Cedric swatted away August’s arm, which was about to come around his shoulder, and August pouted, “Tch.”

“Well, I’ll take my leave. I got a whole day off, so I’m going to go for a leisurely stroll around Enkar for a change.”

“There are more food stalls now, so you should try comparing them. They’re all pretty good.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said with a smile, bowing politely, and then he left the office.

“Shall we get back to work?”

I was about to wrap the book back in its cloth as I did before when I noticed the last page of the binding.

It included the duke’s signature, meticulously done like any northern man.

—Alexis von Oldrand.

Ah.

This world is so… disturbing.

I closed the book and wrapped it in the cloth as if to hide it, tying the decorative cord.

Even though Melfina had knowledge from her past life, she was born and raised in this world, experiencing both happiness and hardship.

It was uncomfortable to feel a sense of unease towards the world itself. It felt as if she was a decisively alien object, leaving her with an overwhelming sense of unease.