Several days after meeting the Rosemary sisters.
In the middle of the afternoon, Rest was unusually summoned to his father's office.
"So… what's the meaning of this, you worthless failure?"
Those were the first words out of his mouth.
He was greeted with a barrage of insults right from the start.
"What are you talking about?"
"We've received an invitation from House Rosemary. Not to me or Cedric — to you."
His father, Lucas Eberun, spoke with his displeasure written all over his face.
He glared as though trying to pierce Rest with his gaze, his eyes narrowed to slits.
"Where did you meet the Rosemary sisters? You didn't tell them about your background, did you?"
"…I only spoke with them in the garden when they visited the estate. We had nothing but completely inoffensive conversation."
"…………"
Lucas shot him a suspicious look, but Rest truly had nothing to hide.
When the sisters had visited the estate the other day to cultivate goodwill, Cedric had lured them into the forest.
As a result, they had been attacked by a powerful monster called the White Fenrir, and the sisters had nearly been killed and devoured.
Once they made it outside the forest, they were taken into protective custody — and naturally, his father was embroiled in a dispute with House Rosemary over taking a young lady into a dangerous area.
Even the father who was usually doting on his sons was furious about this, and Cedric's confinement had yet to be lifted.
"…It's inconceivable for a lowlife like you to receive an invitation from a marquis's house under normal circumstances. However, we cannot refuse an invitation from House Rosemary. Not even if the incident the other day hadn't happened."
"Is that so?"
"Good grief, why does someone like you — a 'man without mana' who has commoner blood running through his veins…"
Lucas grumbled and muttered to himself, but eventually heaved a deep sigh.
"…Make sure you show no disrespect to the Marquis of Rosemary. Grovel if you have to — lick his boots, flatter him, and apologize for Cedric's blunder."
Following his father's instructions, Rest was made to take a bath.
It was his first bath since arriving at the estate.
He had slipped out to bathe in the forest spring on occasion, but a proper bath had been far too long in coming.
What's more, after bathing, he was dressed in fine clothes he hadn't worn even once since reincarnating.
It was hardly the treatment one would expect for a child living in a stable.
Either his father felt some deep sense of obligation to the marquis, or he wanted to hide the fact that Rest was being mistreated.
"Come to think of it, I don't look half bad like this. Almost like a proper noble."
Rest gave a bitter smile at his reflection in the mirror.
Not "almost" — he had been a noble. He'd just been so used to the smell of horse manure that he'd forgotten.
Once preparations were complete, he was loaded onto a carriage from House Eberun and taken to the estate of House Rosemary.
His father and brother did not accompany him.
Perhaps the invitation had explicitly said "do not come."
(Did I ask them not to let Father and brother know? Maybe that's why they were considerate enough to stay behind.)
He had parted ways with the sisters he saved from the White Fenrir at the forest's entrance.
Since Cedric and his two baron's son friends had been unconscious the entire time, they likely didn't even realize they had been saved by Rest.
After riding for a while, the carriage finally arrived at the Marquis of Rosemary's estate.
"Here we are. Take care now."
"Thank you very much."
Rest thanked the coachman — a familiar face — and stepped down from the carriage.
Before him stood an enormous, grand estate.
It made the Eberun residence look like a shack by comparison.
Such was the stark difference between an honorary viscount and a marquis who held actual domain.
"Welcome, Rest!"
"Welcome, Lord Rest!"
"Wah!"
The moment he stepped down from the carriage, two young women came rushing out from the estate.
The girl with golden hair tied in a ponytail — Viola.
The girl with silver hair cascading down to her waist — Primula.
The sisters of House Rosemary whom he had rescued in the forest.
"We've been waiting! Thank you so much for coming today!"
"We should have been the ones paying you a visit to express our gratitude — please forgive us! I'll have tea prepared right away!"
"Wh— what!? H-hold on…!"
Viola and Primula each grabbed one of Rest's arms and began dragging him toward the estate.
Hurriedly glancing back, Rest saw the coachman — a servant of House Eberun — staring wide-eyed.
But he quickly averted his gaze from Rest, looked up at the sky, and made a show of whistling. It seemed… he had decided to pretend he hadn't seen anything.
(Completely understandable. You can't exactly report something like this to that father of mine.)
"Well then, let's go!"
Pulled along by the two of them, Rest trudged forward.
Grabbed by the arms of two lovely young women, all Rest could feel was confusion.
(W-wait, this isn't right… Did I really do something to make them like me this much?)
He had certainly saved their lives.
But the one who caused the whole mess in the first place was his half-brother, Cedric.
All he had done was clean up after his own family, so was it really so strange that they were this grateful?
"We've set up tea in the garden. Please, come this way!"
"We also have some delicious sweets. Come, please!"
Ignoring Rest's puzzled expression, the two of them dragged him to the garden.
The expansive garden was filled with seasonal flowers in full bloom, their vivid colors a feast for the eyes.
House Eberun had flowerbeds too, but theirs had been stuffed with nothing but roses and other expensive varieties — ostentatiously so.
It reeked of newly risen lowborn nobility trying too hard, and came across as rather tasteless.
"Please, take a seat at this table."
Following Primula's lead, Rest was ushered to a round table set in the center of the garden.
The sisters took seats on either side of him, and the maid who had been waiting swiftly prepared black tea and cake.
"Our maid is wonderfully skilled at brewing tea. The chef really outdid himself with this cake too."
"They're my favorites and my sister's. We hope they're to your taste…"
"I-I'll help myself, then…"
The two of them were awfully close.
Feeling bewildered, he picked up the teacup.
The rich aroma of the tea. Even to an amateur, it was unmistakably high-grade.
Between this life and his previous one, had he ever smelled tea this fragrant?
"…………"
He took a sip, letting it linger on his tongue as much as possible before letting it flow down his throat.
Honestly, he couldn't tell whether this was truly delicious or not.
A poor palate, perhaps — or simply a lack of experience drinking tea.
"How is it?"
Primula asked with a hint of worry in her voice.
Viola was also staring intently at him.
Not knowing the right reaction, he decided to simply give an honest answer.
"I don't really drink tea much, so it's hard for me to judge… but at the very least, I don't dislike it."
"Is that so… That's a relief…"
"Now try the cake. It's definitely delicious."
This time he was offered cake.
In a surprising move, Viola cut a bite-sized piece with a fork and held it up to his mouth with an open "Aah."
"I-I can feed myself, you know…!"
"Come on, now! Aah!"
"A-ah…"
Timidly opening his mouth, a piece of cake was shoved inside.
He wanted to say there was no way to taste anything properly like this, but the strawberry cake topped with generous cream was genuinely delicious.
This might have been the first time since reincarnating in this world that he had tasted something properly sweet.
"It's delicious…"
"Oh, Sister! That's not fair!"
This time it was Primula who cut a piece of cake and held it out to him.
"Please try mine too… Aah."
"…Aah."
Unable to refuse Primula, who looked at him with such earnest expectation, Rest opened his mouth.
Sweet. Delicious, as expected.
"Then it's my turn."
"Me too, then."
The sisters took turns feeding him cake.
Rest was thoroughly confused but unable to refuse, accepting each piece as it was offered to his mouth.
By the time he had finished all the cake, Rest was completely stuffed and feeling rather queasy — like a fledgling being force-fed by its mother bird.