Control Comes from Within

I was sitting in my room at the inn, blankly staring at the coins in my hand.

Five circles. I was holding five circles as a result of my talk with the countess.

Only a week had passed since we spoke, but that was apparently enough time for the countess to speak with the city lord, apprise him of the conditions of the bathhouse, and for the city lord to launch an audit and investigation into the bathhouse. Somehow, the man had been unaware of the state of such things.

Sure enough, my guess was right. The tunnels were in such a dangerous and faulty state because they weren’t magically repaired. And why were they not magically repaired?

The noble in charge of the city’s finances was embezzling from the budget. Apparently, he had been doing so from multiple city-funded projects, all of which were in various states of disrepair.

And why did I guess that someone high-up had committed embezzlement? For two reasons. Firstly, because it was noticeable enough that people knew about it but reporting it to the authorities accomplished nothing or got them in legal trouble, which implied that someone with influence was involved. Secondly, well, it was a little embarrassing, but misuse of funds was a frequently used plot device in nearly all forms of media I had read or watched. As a result, I became a bit…zealous when the situation occurred in front of me in real life.

Ennin’s mother, Evelyn, had offhandedly mentioned the guilty noble to me once, though I had no idea who he was at the time; he was the philandering noble who had allegedly been…meeting…with over a hundred women. The guy was probably funding his lifestyle with the funds meant for public works projects, the selfish bastard.

As a result of the investigation, that noble was dismissed, charged with malicious negligence and a litany of other minor crimes, and jailed, and now he was awaiting execution. His assets were seized and a portion was redistributed to the victims who suffered from his actions. The families of those who died working under the tunnels received a fair amount, as did anyone who worked or was injured while working there.

Including me.

Seeing as how I was the one who brought up the issue in the first place by reporting it to Countess Ryfellin, the city lord held a small ceremony for me, acknowledging my ‘righteous spirit’ and ‘dedication to my fellow man’. A few words in front of the populace, both nobles and commoners, and the ceremony was over.

Afterwards, the city lord clapped my shoulder, telling me he appreciated the diligence I showed. He was more down to earth than I expected. He confessed he needed to dress up the language to put on a show for the people.

He also told me that he was developing a better system to ensure nothing like this ever occurred again, and he hoped I maintained my noble character, handing me a small sack of coins. Then he and his entourage left before I could say anything, and I was standing there with more money than I thought I deserved.

In reality, I just wanted the asshole responsible for the deaths to suffer. And I got what I wanted. I felt a surge of vindictive pleasure at the thought of the guilty party suffering the consequences of his actions.

Countess Ryfellin even admitted after the ceremony that she and her husband received benefits from this whole incident as well, which I guess was an acceptable byproduct, as they helped facilitate events.

But five circles? For reporting embezzlement? Not even, for accusing a noble of embezzling. My hunch turned out to be right, and exposed a misdeed, so I was rewarded. The logic made sense, but…something was just…off. I couldn’t put my finger on it, no matter how much I thought about it, so I just shelved it again, deciding to write it down in my notebook of unanswered questions.

As I sat there in my room at the inn, I stared at those five circles that represented my reward. More importantly, they represented something else.

I now had enough money to pay for the academy, at least for the first year.

I didn’t know how many years people usually studied at the academy for, but if the costs for the subsequent years were similar, I’d need to start saving up. Were there banks here? Something to look into. I’d rather have my money securely deposited away than have to carry my full net worth in a leather pouch that jingled when I walked. And while I could use my beast space as a portable bank vault, I’d rather check out if it was possible for my money to gain interest in a bank first.

For now, I had accomplished my short-term goal. I could afford to relax for a few days. So I drifted off to sleep, lying on my bed with my shirt off despite the winter chill, content with my lot in life.

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The next morning saw me bundled up in thicker clothing, bought expressly for the purpose of enduring the increasingly chilly winter winds. I sat on the ground floor of the inn, chewing on a particularly juicy piece of meat as I thought about my plans for the immediate future.

I had enough money for the academy, but what I lacked was knowledge, and experience. I could either keep accruing money until the enrollment date, or I could start filling in the gaps of my knowledge, which could bite me in the ass sooner rather than later. Frankly, the only reason I hadn’t committed any social taboos I was unaware of was probably because I barely interacted with anyone during my time here.

And so began my journey to hire an etiquette tutor. And I had a rather good idea on where I should start.

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“Again.”

“Really?” I whined.

“Again.” a voice tougher than steel replied.

“Haah, fine – I mean, very well. The rains in Gurvayne stay mainly on the plain. The rains in Gurvayne stay mainly on the plain. The wheat in the street is for the feet, not to eat. The wheat in the street is for the feet, not to eat.” I intoned in a monotone voice, trying my best to articulate as instructed.

I was surely blessed when I discovered that Lady Ryfellin, Countess of the Town of Ephoxhall, had found within her busy schedule a suitable period of time, every day, for her to grace me with the most fundamental of knowledge that was required for a poor and unfortunate soul such as myself to not suffer the humiliations of embarrassment and ignorance, those most silent of killers. Killers of reputation and face, which I learned, was a huge, HUGE, deal over here.

I went to the Society building thinking of hiring an etiquette tutor to teach me what I wanted to know, starting from the absolute basics, when Ennin saw what I was doing, and insisted I study with her esteemed ladyship, Countess Troia Ryfellin. Ennin said that the countess’ methods were harsh but effective, as evidenced by Ennin’s completely refined conduct that let her pass for a noblewoman if one looked past her clothes and obsession with sweets. I was swatted on the arm when I accidentally vocalized my thoughts, further proving my point.

I was reluctant to study with the countess, as I didn’t want to taint my grand plan of having her be my future business partner with her seeing me inept and awkward as I tried to improve my stature.

But Ennin was quicker than I was, scheduling an appointment for me before I could say anything. She even paid for it out of her own pocket, saying that if I wanted to pay her back, I should do so after the first lesson ended.

My hands were tied by the guilt trip Ennin sent me on.

Which is how I found myself reciting tongue twisters and turns of phrase for hours on end, while an amused looking countess and her husband sat at a dining table sipping tea and reviewing some documents, interrupting me with the thwack of a wooden ruler on the table whenever I made a mistake. Which was often.

My lessons on enunciation and projection were the first things I learned, as apparently, ‘my clothes were appalling, but I could at least learn to speak properly, even if I didn’t have any coin for suitable clothing’.

So I learned to speak proper – properly. After my diction was deemed passable, I learned the proper forms of address for nobles.

As a commoner myself, it was expected that I bow at the waist with my head down whenever addressed by or speaking to a noble, but apparently the academies were full of too many nobles and commoners interacting together that the rule was thrown out for convenience. Well, the academies seemed pragmatic, if nothing else.

The academies must have been older than I thought, as it seemed that the rule about not bowing gradually extended outside the institution. At first it spread just to the tier one and tier two cities that the academies were located in, then to the other cities that had academy graduates, then to various tier four and tier five towns, until finally, the whole ‘bowing at the waist as a form of supplication’ thing was thrown out altogether.

Now if any noble spoke to me in the street, or anywhere else, all I had to do was lower my head, place one hand on my chest and one hand behind my back, bent at the elbow. Then I could respond to their questions or statements.

Doing anything else was considered a breach of etiquette, which made sense, but wasn’t a dealbreaker for me, as my primary ambition wasn’t to integrate myself with the lords and ladies of high society. If I offended a noble unknowingly, the countess explained that I would most likely be forgiven as commoners weren’t expected to know the mannerisms of nobility anyway.

After speech lessons and forms of address, the countess said that as her student, I had to know her full and proper title if others inquired about it. I was skeptical of this one, but went along with it, as I was frankly not in a position to say otherwise.

Doing so correctly gave her face, and doing so incorrectly lost her face, which she explained to me was like a mixture of reputation, prestige, respect, honor, and influence.

What, is face-slapping an actual thing here? Am I gonna see some young master pop up and demand I bow before him or he’ll leave me without a grave? Shit, does that really happen here?

All I got in response when I posed the question was a noble couple whose calm facade completely cracked as they broke down in what I was sure would be considered vulgar laughter to the point of tears.

In any case, it was a good thing I was taking these etiquette lessons, as I figured it was better to have this info and not need it, than to need it and not have it.

The lessons were short, only lasting a month (one full month, which was forty days here!), in which the countess exerted all her efforts into turning me from an ignorant villager, which she heard about via Ennin, who was clueless about even the most basic things to someone worthy of at least a measure of respect, who could hold their head high and proclaim that they must have expended a lifetime’s worth of good fortune to have the illustrious Countess Troia –

Yeah, sarcasm wasn’t appreciated here, as the countess raised an eyebrow and gave me a dead-eyed stare whenever I tried to be funny. Although the count and maidservants did snicker a few times when I went full satire mode.

Eventually, the lessons ended, as the countess and her husband the count had to visit their domain, an area to the southwest of Khobadaar, and inspect the surrounding lands. They wouldn’t be back until sometime in the second month of spring, well after the enrollment date would pass. I said my goodbyes to both of them, thanking them for taking care of me. The goodbyes were reciprocated in a proper manner, as befit a noblewoman of the countess’ standing.

And just like that, I had a bit over two months until I could theoretically join the academy. Well, whatever academy came here.

During my lessons, the countess answered one of the questions I had ever since I was introduced to this world. She explained that originally, there were four academies, each located in a different tier one city. Over time, the founders wanted to reach out to more young seekers of knowledge, and so built affiliated academies in different tier two cities. Eventually, it reached the point where the academies in the tier two cities searched for new students in the surrounding tier three cities. Such as Khobadaar.

Gradually, the towns and villages heard of these academies and created their own institutions of learning that were appropriate for their regions, leading to schools popping up across the continent, increasing the flow of knowledge.

Speaking of knowledge, now that I had as much as I could acquire before I joined the academy, it was time to get back to work. I could always use some pocket money while at the academy, and the fees for the second or third years wouldn’t pay for themselves.