CH 30

“Of course I know. This is the ‘buried old hag,’ isn’t it?” Luisen said.

“You know? And still you want to eat it….? Is this some form of self-harm?”

“Self-harm? Why would I do that?” Luisen realized that Carlton was operating under some sort of misunderstanding. “You must have misunderstood something. A freshly harvested old hag is not poisonous at all. I came here to dig these up with the intention to bring them to the general’s attention tomorrow, to consider if they can be used as a replacement for wheat.”

“Then why were you trying to eat one?” Carlton asked.

“I’ve worked so hard to harvest them; I should at least have a taste!”

At the sight of Luisen talking about the old hag as if it were some ordinary food, like bread or fruit, Carlton was dumbfounded.

“The poison begins to develop in the plant as soon as it is exposed to sunlight. So, the sooner you grill the old hag, the better,” Luisen added.

“How does the duke know that? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ve tried them in the past.”

In the future, research would support Luisen’s claims. However, for the time being, Luisen had nothing but his own words and experiences to rely on.

Carlton was not easily convinced. “When? Why would the duke eat something like this? Don’t say that the south has differing tastes. I know that the people’s sentiment towards this plant is the same here.”

“Huh? Ah…..It was a long time ago.” Luisen had no choice but to be evasive. “Once upon a time, when I was young, I ate a lot of old hags in secret.”

How would Carlton know to doubt Luisen’s childhood experiences, anyway? It was the perfect excuse.

Luisen continued to insist, “I ate alone, so many others don’t know what I know. I no longer harvested them after I became an adult, but I suddenly remembered some bygone memories. The buried old hag is safe, I’m sure.”

“…..You’ve eaten a lot of these?”

“That’s right. To the point where If I didn’t eat the root, it meant that none were available.” Luisen nodded as he remembered the past. When he could find no buried old hags, he almost starved to death. It was a cold and rough winter in the northwestern part of the kingdom; too cold to dig for roots. If the one-armed pilgrim had not found him, Luisen would have died.

“There were times when I wished I could eat this so that my stomach would feel full.” With the one-armed pilgrim, he did not starve, but he also could not afford to eat his fill either. Cold and hunger…such were the fate of wanderers.

Luisen’s eyes briefly dimmed as his mind lost itself in memories.

Carlton’s eyes shook slightly. ‘He…ate a lot…of these? But why?’

For Carlton, the buried old hag was used mostly as fodder for cows and pigs. In the south, better feed was given to the pigs than that–only the pitiful would lay their tongues on a hag.

How could Luisen, a king of these golden wheat fields, eat the grass that even the lowest of commoners would not eat?

“It may seem a little disgusting on the surface, but beneath the insides are sweet and delicious when cooked well. Soft, digestible, and nutritious. If you boil soup with this…..” Luisen diligently explained how the buried old hag could be turned into a proper dish.

This fervor made Carlton even more confused. ‘Listening to what he’s saying, it really does seem like he’s eaten a lot of them….’ No performance could replicate that sincerity. ‘But why? Everything in these rich lands is yours, isn’t it?’

Why?

How?

Did no one in the duchy feed the duke….?

A hypothesis, like a lightning bolt, struck Carlton’s head.

What if Luisen grew up neglected or abused by the retainers?

In one’s lands, a lord is an absolute existence. The retainers swore allegiance, as they might to a king, and obeyed every order. The hierarchy between the lord and his vassals was guaranteed by law, absolute immutability. However, things in the world did not always go as they should.

Sometimes there would be fierce power struggles over the management of the estate–a political battle between the lord and his advisors. In particular, the younger and more malleable the lord may be, the stronger the vassals were.

And if the lord was young and had no close relative to look after him?

He would have valued bloodline but nothing else to his name, no more than a scarecrow. In fortunate cases, neglect was the extent of the crime; in serious cases, the vassals would unite and abuse the young lord. This story may not be common, but they were an occasional occurrence.

‘They said the duke became a lord at the age of six. He was raised by his advisors.’  No matter how brilliant and important the duke of Anies may have been, he would have just been a six year old child. It would have been easy for seasoned advisors to take control of the castle and ostracize Luisen.

Young Luisen left to his own devices in a gigantic castle. He must have been hungry and struggled to search for food. Then, when he saw a pig eating, he must have thought the buried old hag was edible.

Perhaps that’s why the duke of Anies knew the poisonous plant so intimately.

‘Yeah. That’s plausible…..No, there’s no other possible explanation.’

If Luisen had received proper care, he would have been eating all sorts of delicacies instead of scrounging for pig feed. Unless Luisen truly had bizarre taste buds and preferred to harvest his own meals from the dirt.

No, even if Luisen had this habit, loyal advisors would not have allowed him to eat a known poisonous plant. So, an abused–or at least neglected–childhood could be the only rational reason.

‘Unbelievable.’ A wave of dizziness washed over Carlton. The lord who at first seemed to have received the best of care, growing up wearing only the finest clothes….he hid such a poor childhood under that elegant noble face. Carlton could have never imagined such a twist.

‘No, wait. This is no time for wild guesses.’ Carlton tried to maintain a rational and calm attitude.

Ignorant of Carlton’s inner turmoil, Luisen looked anxiously at the buried old hags in the bonfire. ‘What a waste! They’re all going to burn!’

Luisen carefully spoke, “Excuse me, if the misunderstanding has been cleared, I’m going to take these out. If we leave them, they’ll all become burnt.”

“Ha….Do whatever you want.”

“Yes!” Luisen quickly pulled the old hags out of the bonfire. They were a bit charred but not inedible–in Luisen’s eyes, at least.

Luisen looked up at Carlton; he held out a buried old hag to the mercenary. “Would you like to eat one?”

“No. Definitely not,” Carlton said with an intense and serious expression.

“Ah, okay….” Luisen pulled back his outstretched hand awkwardly. He then peeled the root, blowing on his fingers periodically. Soon, the white flesh was revealed; the delicious scent unique to the old hag stimulated his appetite.

‘Let’s just eat comfortably…I’ve already ruined my reputation anyway.’ He had already kneeled and crawled between someone’s legs…what could be worse?

Luisen sat on the floor and began to eat. Carlton just stood there and looked at him as he consumed the plant so happily.

In Carlton’s eyes, the old hag was about as pleasant as a burnt witch; seeing Luisen so happy with it made his head throb. ‘Ha….He’s really…..eating that thing?’

Luisen flinched and lowered his eyes when Carlton’s gaze became too intense.

‘Seeing him like this…’ Carlton thought over their previous interactions. Perhaps Luisen avoided his gaze out of fear rather than condescension for the low born.

‘How was this guy raised for him to end up with such low self-esteem?’

Was his psychological state so damaged that he would believe nonsensical jokes? Be driven to crawl on his knees for another man? Luisen’s behavior was certainly not normal.

Carlton was not so soft as to feel pity over the duke’s difficult childhood; he was objectively a bastard.

However, Carlton’s conscience was, very slightly, pricked. Perhaps Luisen’s actions, which he had dismissed as strange and suspicious, were the actions of a person struggling to overcome abuse.

He felt like he’d kicked over a child trying to drag along baggage larger than his own body.

Bastards will screw over someone who’s on par with them or better, but trash will pick on the weak. Right now, Carlton felt like trash. Some may think there’s no difference between the two, but to Carlton, there was a huge difference.

“Hmmm…This one’s too burnt…There’s not much to eat here.” Luisen smacked his lips with regret. He picked up the burnt roots one by one, face somber and reverent like a king mourning a cherished servant. He looked at the root he had dropped earlier due to Carlton’s interference. ‘That one’s cooked just right…and it’s just rolling around in the grass now.’

Carlton’s keen eyes didn’t miss Luisen’s line of sight. ‘There’s a vast field of poisonous roots. Why fixate on that one?’

Carlton couldn’t empathize with Luisen, but on the other hand, he wondered what events led to this moment. He must have endured a time where he was denied even poisonous plants. Carlton felt annoyed for an unknown reason.

“I can harvest some more. Will one more suffice?” Carlton picked up the shovel that Luisen had thrown.

Puzzled, the young duke replied, “Um….Ah, I’d like to dig up three more.”

“Alright.” Carlton scanned the open grounds and deftly dug up the roots. Even in shoveling, his form was excellent. The freshly harvested roots were quickly shoved into a sack.