The hidden space in Rosengarden, Klugen's behavior in hiding there, and even the fight with me: Bertheim seemed deep in thought, as if none of this was what he'd expected. There wasn't as much shock as I'd anticipated.
Rather, the only one visibly anxious was Wilhelm Göring. I sipped the tea in front of me, giving Bertheim time to collect his thoughts.
His mind must be in turmoil.
He'd never imagined Klugen would be hiding in Rosengarden.
"So that child wandering like that is ultimately my responsibility," Bertheim said.
"Marquis, I have no intention of getting deeply involved in another family's complicated secrets. I just want you to know I completed your request," I replied.
"Right. You worked hard, Sir Streit. And I've caused you trouble. I'm sorry."
"My opponent attacked, so I responded. There's nothing for you to apologize for, Marquis. Please don't trouble yourself."
Fighting the Rose Knight had ultimately been force majeure. But since I did sustain injuries in that fight, as a matter of principle, I should be compensated. And Bertheim knew this better than anyone.
That was precisely why I'd said it the way I did.
Bertheim would find some way to compensate me.
"That won't do. The fact is you got hurt because of this old man's request. I can't simply let it pass. Tell me—is there anything you want from this old man?"
"Then, could you introduce me to a knight around my age who's studying swordsmanship?"
Since I'd already received more than enough materially after agreeing to take over Rosengarden, I wanted to tap into Bertheim's connections. Embarrassingly, I'd been so focused on sword training and earning money to feed my retainers that I had almost no connections to speak of.
I hadn't even met knights my own age, so I wanted to leverage Bertheim's extensive network. In noble society, connections are both a weapon to protect yourself and a means of leverage. I'd been neglecting that side of things far too much.
Plus, for training Fühlen, wouldn't there be some method if I sparred with knights who'd studied swordsmanship? I couldn't think of any safer or more reliable training method than live sparring.
Bertheim seemed to ponder deeply after hearing my proposal. He'd lived as a noble for decades and had connections in every corner, so I'd assumed he could easily introduce someone—but was it really that difficult?
"You're making a tall order for this old man," Bertheim said.
"...Is that really a tall order?" I asked.
"Do you think your skills—having defeated Frost, who cut down five knights, and even making the Rose Knight retreat—are on the same level as knights of your generation? As far as I know, your abilities rank at the very top among knights your age."
"But surely there's a knight with exceptional talent somewhere?"
"He's right in front of me. That knight with exceptional talent."
...Such blatant praise was embarrassing. Though my lips twitched upward, revealing that I was probably a natural attention-seeker at heart. I mean, my confidence had been utterly shattered by the Rose Knight, but I couldn't help preening when I heard praise.
But I didn't let it go to my head.
The Rose Knight had taught me that lesson well.
That if I carried the half-baked confidence of "maybe I can handle this," I could end up dead.
So instead of limiting it to my generation, I raised the bar and asked him to introduce a knight of similar skill regardless of age. But most such knights were currently deployed to conflict zones or belonged to the Imperial Knights, the Grand Duke's Guard, and so on, so with my status, I couldn't easily gain an audience with them.
Now it was a matter of standing.
No rivals in my generation, and meeting knights worth crossing swords with was impossible due to the gap in status.
I'd hit an unexpected wall.
My plan to build connections by mingling with peers of similar skill while simultaneously training Fühlen through sparring had been thwarted. Should I track down the Rose Knight and face him again? Just as I was seriously considering it, Bertheim murmured.
"Hmm, that might work too. Not bad."
What might work, and what wasn't bad?
"I just thought of someone perfect to introduce you to."
"Really? Who is it?"
"I'll tell you later. How about meeting them first?"
"Isn't it rude to meet someone without even knowing who they are?"
"Normally, yes. But you're not an ordinary knight, are you?"
"Let's ease up on the flattery, shall we? But is this person similar in skill to me?"
"Probably a notch below, I'd think, but worth meeting."
Worth meeting? Hmm. It was a hard call, but since I didn't have any other options, I asked Bertheim to arrange the meeting. That settled the debt for the Rose Knight fight.
And the most important matter remained—the reason I'd risked my life fighting the Rose Knight. The ownership of that battle-scarred mansion, Rosengarden.
"So you're giving me Rosengarden now?"
"Of course. I promised, so I must keep my word. I've already instructed Bill to proceed with all the formalities. The process is somewhat involved, so it'll take time, but rest assured, Rosengarden's ownership will transfer to you. I'm relieved to finally be rid of this burden."
Was I finally getting a house? It was a mansion dogged by strange rumors about Lorden's curse and Satan's servant appearing to snatch away the Constance heir, but with its beautiful rose garden and intriguing underground space, those rumors didn't give me a moment's pause.
If anything, I thought it was a miracle that the Streit family could own such a grand mansion given our standing. Plus, he was including all the stockpiled supplies in the mansion as well. Wondering if this wasn't excessive generosity, I asked Bertheim if he had another favor in mind, and he simply said to keep a lonely old man company when I had the time.
It was a fair deal, but honestly, throwing in the stockpiled supplies for free felt a touch suspicious. He was definitely planning something. I shouldn't be fooled by his kindly demeanor. Personally, conversation with this old man was rather draining.
Being a conversation partner was fine, but the trouble was that I never knew when I might let something slip that I shouldn't. Then again, I considered it from the opposite angle. What if I could hold my own in conversations with Bertheim?