Chapter 42: Changing Feet

The butler opened the three guest room doors one by one.

"Sir and Madam are in this one, Miss Evelyn is next door, and Young Master Richard is in the room at the very end."

He handed them their keys.

"If you require anything, simply pull the bell cord. Someone will come to show you the way before the banquet."

Before turning to leave, the butler noticed the obviously ill-fitting leather shoes on Evelyn's feet and made a mental note.

Richard walked down the corridor to the end.

He pushed his door open. The room was at least three times the size of his own bedroom.

The furnishings lacked gilded ornaments, crystal chandeliers, or anything else that screamed expensive at first glance.

Yet the material, craftsmanship, and age of every single item spoke for themselves.

This was the essence of old money. Grey's carriage had given him the exact same feeling.

He took off the jacket that had left him sweating, hung it on a hook, and pulled on a vest from his spare clothes.

A shirt and vest wouldn't be considered a faux pas at a banquet, and it was far more comfortable than a three-piece suit.

Changed, Richard collapsed onto the bed spread-eagle and began to sort through everything that had just happened.

His grandfather was also part of the mystical world. There was no longer any need to guess.

The way he had used an ether field to crush Richard's micro-circulation was clean, decisive, and perfectly controlled.

He had directed it solely at Richard, while the people right next to them hadn't sensed a thing.

A Practitioner couldn't achieve that level of precision.

A Practitioner's invocation of ether was still an active process. It was like picking up a tool to work—every single step required total concentration.

But his grandfather's move just now made it seem as though he were the ether itself, able to manipulate the ether field with a mere thought.

The gap between the two demonstrated the qualitative change between different ranks.

According to the ranks deciphered from the Flora of the Western Continent:

Newcomer, Practitioner, Minor Adept, Major Adept, Virtuoso, Master, Archon.

The old man was likely a Minor Adept at the very least, though Major Adept was also entirely possible.

The book's descriptions of the fifth rank, Virtuoso, and everything above it were almost entirely blank.

But judging from a few scattered phrases, those high ranks already deviated from the realm of the "human."

His grandfather probably hadn't reached that level yet.

Somewhere between Minor Adept and Major Adept—that was the most reasonable judgment Richard could make right now.

But no matter the specific tier, it was an overwhelming strength that Richard could not rival.

Judging from the shift in his grandfather's attitude after the test, he had likely passed.

Richard didn't know whether passing the test was a good or bad thing, but regardless of what the old man was scheming, he couldn't let his own rhythm be disrupted.

He stood up, preparing to open the door and check the floor's layout.

The moment his fingers brushed the doorknob, a muffled thud came from the next room.

It sounded like something had bumped the wall—a chair or a stool, perhaps.

The noise was heavily muffled by the time it reached him; high-end estates like this always had excellent soundproofing.

Evelyn was staying in the next room.

Richard's hand paused on the doorknob. He waited for a few seconds.

Nothing followed.

Had she kicked a piece of furniture? Knocked something over while changing clothes?

He frowned. In an unfamiliar place, a little extra caution couldn't hurt.

Richard turned around, stepped back toward the shared wall, and sank his focus into the Seat of the Sun.

A wisp of ether split off from his micro-circulation and was guided up the side of his neck into his ear canal.

Nourished by the ether, his cochlea became hyper-sensitive, and the sounds from the next room instantly sharpened into focus.

"N-no need, there's really no need!"

His younger sister sounded panicked.

"Miss, the butler instructed me to bring these. Please try them on to see which ones fit."

The other voice was an older woman's—likely a maid of the estate.

"I can change them myself! Just leave them by the door! Right by the door!"

"Miss, changing shoes requires measuring your feet. I need to see if the size is right..."

"You don't need to measure! My feet... I-I'm just a bit inconvenienced right now!"

"Miss?" The maid was clearly confused.

Richard had already guessed what was going on.

Before they left the house today, he had given his sister his own socks, which were a full size too large for her.

Stuffed into her already tight leather shoes, walked on for half the day, coupled with the Imperial Capital being much warmer than Briston...

Her feet had been smothering in there all day. It was easy to imagine their current state.

"Miss, are you feeling unwell? Shall I call a doctor to take a look?"

"No, no, no! Just go out, I'll change them myself!"

Through the wall, Richard listened to a complete acoustic performance.

First came a flurry of hurried footsteps, presumably Evelyn quickly backing away across the room.

Then a chair scraped, likely his sister bumping into the back of it.

The maid chased after the footsteps, and the two of them circled at least halfway around the room.

It seemed there was no real problem.

He withdrew the ether from his hearing, his shoulders shaking as he barely held back his laughter.

A few minutes later, the sound of a door opening and closing came from next door.

Soon after, someone knocked on Richard's door.

"It's unlocked," he called out.

Evelyn poked half her head around the door. "Brother?"

"What's wrong?"

The girl stood on the carpet, both hands hidden behind her back.

She was flushed red from the tips of her ears all the way down to her neck.

"Did you... hear anything?"

"What?"

"Just... the sounds from next door."

"These walls have great soundproofing. I didn't hear a thing." Richard's expression was perfectly calm.

Evelyn stared at him suspiciously for several seconds before finally letting out a slow breath.

"The maid insisted on helping me change my shoes."

"So let her."

"I wore your socks today! I walked around all day!"

As she spoke, her expression hovered somewhere between a complete breakdown and sheer exasperation.

"It's just changing shoes, not changing feet."

"You don't get it!" Evelyn's voice rose an octave.

"She squatted right in front of me to take my shoes off... I... I didn't dare stick my feet out."

The girl's face was so red it looked ready to smoke.

"What if she spreads it around... saying that Ashford House's granddaughter..."

"She won't. The maids wouldn't gossip."

"How do you know?!"

"Because any servant in a family like this with a loose mouth would have been fired long ago."

Evelyn opened her mouth, feeling he made sense, but she still felt unsettled.

"Did you change them or not?"

"I did." She brought a foot out from behind her back to show him.

She was wearing a pair of dark brown, soft-soled sheepskin shoes that fit perfectly.

"These are more comfortable than my own shoes."

She couldn't resist stepping on the carpet twice, her expression turning from embarrassed to satisfied.

"Then that's that."

"But my socks..." She pulled her foot back.

"I stuffed them under my pillow. When it's time to go back, I absolutely cannot forget to take them."

"You should find a place to wash them and hang them up."

"What if someone sees them? Hanging up a pair of oversized, stinky socks in Ashford House?"

"... Fair point."

"So I put them under the pillow."

"You're going to let the pillow suffer too?"

Evelyn glared at him, spun around, and slammed the door shut with a bang.

Two seconds later, the door cracked open again.

"Come knock on my door before the banquet. We'll go down together."

"All right."

"And another thing."

"Hmm?"

"If you dare mention the socks to anyone, I'm disowning you as my brother."