■ A young pup doesn’t know the fear of a tiger □
“Ah, come to think of it, your father was looking for you earlier.”
Dorothea, who was eating next to me, said that while waving a fork with a carrot on it.
“My father? Me? Why all of a sudden?”
“How should I know?”
Yum.
Dorothea, who had thrown a roundly cut carrot into her mouth, licked the brown sauce on her lips with her tongue.
“It seems your father has something to ask of Caldlasth.”
I tilted my head upon hearing Camilla’s words.
“What could he want?”
Usually, even when problems arise, my father tries to handle them himself rather than asking for my help.
If he’s looking for me, it must be something serious.
“Alright. I’ll meet him.”
As I said that, I picked up a french fry from Dorothea’s plate.
“Hey! If you want to eat, order your own!”
“If I order, I won’t eat it all, so it’s a waste. And eating fried food three times a day will make you fat, right?”
When I pointed to my belly while saying that, Dorothea blushed and pulled her plate closer.
“Ugh! Witches don’t get fat!”
I snorted and retorted.
“Maybe we should visit the Ruby Tower while we’re at it? I saw something interesting.”
“That’s just for low-level kids!”
Ding! Ding!
While Dorothea and I were arguing about whether witches get fat or not, someone opened the door and entered the tavern.
“Welcome!”
Timmy greeted cheerfully, and a grumbling voice came from the entrance.
“Hmph, this place never has any class.”
“W-What brings the tax collector here?”
“Huh?”
Seeing Timmy suddenly bowing, I looked over curiously.
There stood a skinny man in purple silk clothes, looking to be around forty years old.
“Why is the tax collector here? To collect taxes, of course.”
The man said that while tapping the tavern floor with his cane.
“Ah, yes! I’ll bring it right away!”
Timmy hurried inside.
I, sitting at the counter, propped my chin on my hand as I watched.
‘Hmm.’
A new face, and quite arrogant at that.
The man, looking bored, glanced around the tavern and noticed Dorothea eating next to me and Camilla sitting calmly. His eyes lit up.
He walked over and spoke to us.
“Are you patrons of this tavern?”
Dorothea swallowed the meat she was chewing and answered.
“We are.”
“Tsk, tsk. There’s an age gap, yet you speak so casually.”
Dorothea frowned, looking annoyed.
“You started with casual speech first.”
I quickly intervened.
“I’m not sure why you’re addressing us, but please speak to me instead of her.”
“Ah, finally someone who speaks properly.”
The tax collector pushed up his glasses and looked at Camilla.
“Is this maid a slave?”
“No. She’s my wife.”
The man frowned as if he had heard something absurd.
“Your wife, yet she’s wearing a maid outfit?”
“It’s a hobby of ours. Is there a problem?”
The tax collector stuttered, slightly flustered. “Ah, no. It’s not that…”
“So, what did you want to talk about?”
The tax collector hesitated before answering.
“Nothing much. Just thought she might suit my lord’s taste…”
“If she were a slave, were you planning to buy her?”
The man turned his head, looking embarrassed.
These kids, they talk back so easily.
But seeing he didn’t cross the line, he must have some sense.
Dorothea muttered beside me, looking incredulous.
“Is the tax collector also a pimp?”
“Being too pretty can be troublesome.”
Camilla, with an expressionless but oddly proud face, said that while brushing her hair.
Meanwhile, Timmy came out with a money pouch.
“Tax Collector, here you go.”
As if to dispel the awkward atmosphere, the man quickly grabbed the pouch Timmy handed over, coughed, and said.
“I’ll take my leave now. Make sure to prepare in advance next time.”
“Ah, yes. Take care.”
After the tax collector hurriedly left the shop, Timmy, sensing the lingering awkwardness, asked.
“Did something happen?”
“Something did happen. You would’ve liked it.”
“What? Really?!”
Timmy, realizing he missed something interesting, slapped his forehead in regret.
Tsk tsk, who told you to leave your seat?
After the small commotion at the tavern, I went home to meet my father.
Ding dong!
“Coming~”
Pressing the doorbell, a cheerful voice came from inside.
Click!
Soon, it wasn’t my stepmother but Barnett who opened the door.
“What, why are you here?”
“I had some free time, so I came to visit.”
Barnett, wearing an apron, smiled brightly.
No matter how I looked at it, she seemed to be trying to score points with my father, but I didn’t find it annoying.
In fact, it was kind of cute.
“Is my father inside?”
“Yes. He’s resting after lunch.”
“That’s good.”
I entered the house with Barnett.
My stepmother, sitting in the living room, stood up in surprise upon seeing me.
“You’re here?”
“Ah, yes.”
Things were still awkward between my stepmother and me.
From her perspective, suddenly having an older son must be strange.
“I came to see my father.”
“He’s in the study.”
I nodded at her words and walked to the study inside the house, knocking on the door.
Knock knock!
“Father?”
“Come in.”
After receiving permission, I entered the study and saw my father sitting in a chair.
“Why did you call for me?”
My father handed me a piece of paper he was holding.
“Caldlasth, there’s something I need to ask you.”
I read the words at the top of the paper.
“Land tax bill?”
My father scratched his head awkwardly and answered.
“As you know, I’m not good with these things. It was already a bit expensive, but with the recent rise in land prices, the land tax has increased tremendously.”
I skimmed through the contents upon hearing that.
When it comes to taxes, asking me was the right decision.
My father might not know, but his son is the top in that field.
“Hmm. The content seems fine. Land tax is supposed to be higher if the land is more valuable, so you should understand…”
I was about to say that when I saw the amount at the end and shut my mouth.
“300 gold?”
What? Is their conscience dead? How much can rural land be worth to charge this much?
“See, even you think it’s a lot, right?”
“No, did I misread this? Did you miss paying taxes?”
“That’s for one year.”
“Crazy.”
I couldn’t help but swear.
“What’s the tax rate?”
“About 30% of the income from leasing the orchard.”
“…That’s illegal.”
In the past, lords could set taxes as they pleased, but after the Demon King’s army took over, the maximum tax rate was set at 15%.
My father scolded me, saying I didn’t understand the ways of the world.
“Even if there’s a law, if no one enforces it, it’s as good as nonexistent.”
“Well, that’s not wrong.”
But the one who set that law is your son right here?
I swallowed the words rising in my throat and told him I’d handle the tax issue.
My father patted my shoulder, looking proud.
“Take care of it, son.”
“Could you not call me ‘son’ only at times like this?”
Feeling a chill, I quickly left the study.
“So…how do I handle this?”
I looked down at the land tax bill in my hand.
I confidently told my father I’d solve it, but barging into the lord’s castle was out of the question.
After all, Ozma and I are here on vacation in secret.
As I pondered how to solve my father’s land tax issue without meeting the lord, I remembered the tax collector’s face.
“Ah.”
Come to think of it, that guy was around.
Praising my brilliant mind, I immediately called over some kids wandering the village and asked about the tax collector’s whereabouts.
“Ah! It’s the man from yesterday!”
“Call me ‘brother.'”
“Brother!”
As I handed out candies, the kid’s address changed immediately.
“So, kid, have you seen a skinny man wandering the village?”
“Ah, you mean the tax collector?”
If they know who it is, things will go faster.
“Right.”
“That man went to Aunt Helen’s house earlier.”
The kid pointed in the direction of Helen’s house, where I had just been.
“How long ago?”
“Not long. About ten minutes ago?”
“Thanks. Have another one.”
I gave the kid another candy and hurriedly ran to Helen’s house, chasing after the tax collector who would deliver my message to the lord.
