Chapter 17: Visiting Countess Rosette’s Mansion

Half of it was social politeness, half was an excuse to go out more, so it wasn’t entirely a lie. Cass whispered in my ear,

"When visiting a cathedral or church, you should make at least a small donation."

Right, of course.

"How much is the usual amount?"

"For a place like this, probably one silver coin. For a smaller church, one large copper coin would be enough."

"I see. Thank you."

"You’re welcome."

Listening to our conversation, no one would guess it was between a ten-year-old boy and a nearly thirty-year-old maid.

After a full tour, I was tired, so we were invited to the reception room for tea. Since I was only the eleventh prince, no high-ranking clergy came out to meet me personally, which made things pleasantly relaxed. My reputation as an idiot seemed to have reached even here, so the explanation was kept brief and superficial — which I was grateful for.

"Does the cathedral have an orphanage?" I asked the middle-aged nun who brought the tea.

"Yes, we do... but it’s not a place someone like you should visit, Your Highness."

She looked visibly alarmed at the thought of me going there.

"Oh, I was just curious. Don’t worry — I’m not saying I want to go right now."

The nun looked relieved and said,

"If you ever wish to visit, please contact us in advance. We would need time to prepare. The orphanage would require cleaning, and the children would need new clothes..."

I see. When important people visit, the receiving side needs preparation time. So today there would be no sudden event where I walked into the orphanage, found a girl with a useful skill, and made her my personal maid. Too bad.

Just for fun, I appraised the nun.

**Mary – 38 years old – Nun – Healing 2**

She had the Healing skill. I stared at her a little too intently, and the nun must have misunderstood, because her face suddenly turned red and she hurried out of the room. Cass scolded me in a low voice,

"Prince Robby, you mustn’t stare at women like that! I don’t think you mean anything by it, but the person being stared at might misunderstand."

"When I stare at a woman, they misunderstand?"

"When you gaze at them so intently with those eyes, most women feel their hearts flutter. So please be careful."

"Does that mean your heart flutters too, Cass?"

"Fufu, I’m already used to it. Besides, I know there’s no deeper meaning when you look at me."

A little lonely, but I had learned something valuable: when I stare at women, I can get a good reaction. I’d have to test this out and gather some evidence.

---

On the way back from the cathedral to the palace, the carriage clopped along through the city streets. No beastmen or elves anywhere — just ordinary humans. Did this world not have them? I wouldn’t mind if there were no beastmen, but I’d love to see an elf at least once.

Cass had called it a "cathedral," but it wasn’t what I imagined. In my mind, a cathedral meant something on the scale of the Vatican. This one had a tall tower, decent depth and width, and a plaza, but it wasn’t *that* huge. If I had to compare it to something from my old world, it was maybe a larger version of the Oura Cathedral I saw while sightseeing in Nagasaki. It felt more like a "grand church" than a full cathedral. Maybe it depended on the number of believers, or perhaps the country simply didn’t have the money because it was the state religion. Still, everyone — not just Cass — seemed to view these grand buildings as symbols of faith. I suspected that wealthier countries in this world probably had true cathedrals.

"It’s so peaceful," I muttered inside the carriage.

Cass, sitting across from me, responded, "This part of the royal capital is quite prosperous, so there aren’t many starving people. But I’ve heard that in the slums, some people actually die of hunger. Even if they get sick, they can’t afford a doctor or healing magic, so many of them pass away. Your impression is probably because you live in the palace, Prince Robby."

"Have you ever been to the slums, Cass?"

"No. If a woman went to a place like that, she’d be violated, stripped, and killed. Decent people don’t go there."

"Then who does go?"

"Who knows? Bad people? Thieves or bandits, maybe? I really couldn’t say."

It seemed this topic was outside Cass’s area of expertise. Well, nobles normally wouldn’t go to the slums anyway. Linda might know more. I should ask her next time.

When we returned to my room, a reply from Countess Rosette had already arrived: she would be expecting me tomorrow afternoon at 3 o’clock. The formal visit time was set. When I told Cass, she said,

"It went exactly as we requested."

When I asked why, she explained, "I asked for the afternoon so it wouldn’t interfere with your morning studies and wouldn’t run into the evening. I had hoped for right after lunch, but it shifted a little. She might even invite you to stay for dinner."

"Is that how these things work?"

"I’m not entirely sure, but given the time, it’s possible."

"If I go at 3 p.m. and stay until dinner, how close would we actually get?"

"I won’t be accompanying you, so... that kind of possibility does exist."

"You’re not coming?"

"Only the escort knight will go with you. Even if you’re still a child, it wouldn’t look proper for a prince to bring a maid when visiting a lady."

"She’s a countess, though."

"Formally speaking, yes. But I think my presence would make the Countess uncomfortable, so I’ll refrain."

"Understood. Then you’ll handle the outfit I should wear and any gift, right?"

"Please leave it to me."

"But what should I even talk about?"

"Who knows? I’m not sure either."

"I guess it’s fine to stay mostly quiet? There’s not much a ten-year-old can do anyway. I’ll just let the adult lady lead and go with the flow."

"Prince Robby, sometimes your remarks sound strangely mature. Ever since you woke up, I occasionally wonder if an old man has taken over your body. You used to be... well, problematic in your own way, but you had the pure innocence of a prince. Now you’ve become oddly adult-like. You say and do all these unnecessary things. I can’t tell if the change is good or bad."

Cass seemed to have noticed something, but she couldn’t possibly imagine I had transferred into this body, so she was tilting her head in suspicion while feeling uneasy. *Cass, if you keep worrying about stuff like that, you’ll age faster.*

People say time passes slowly when you’re a child, but the next afternoon arrived in the blink of an eye. From morning onward, the hours had dragged unbearably.

My expectations for what might happen with Countess Rosette — or rather, Jacqueline — were bursting at the seams, and my cock was full of energy too. But there was nothing I could do about it. Even while changing into my going-out clothes, my excited cock said hello right in front of Cass as she helped me dress. Of course, she completely ignored it and simply stuffed it back into my pants. Cass really doesn’t understand a man’s physiology...

Now I was inside the carriage heading to Countess Rosette’s mansion, filled with equal parts excitement and nervousness. This was my first time visiting a noble — and a high-ranking one at that — since arriving in this world.

"We’ll arrive at Countess Rosette’s residence shortly," the coachman called.

I stuck my head out the window and saw it — an absolutely magnificent mansion. It looked like the kind of palace you see on TV programs introducing British royalty, the sort where you think, "Wait, that’s not a castle, it’s a palace." I was speechless. And this was privately owned. The royal palace basically belonged to the King; the concubines and children only owned what was around them. In other words, Mother and I were essentially parasites living off the King.

Lost in those thoughts, the carriage soon passed through the gate and stopped at the mansion’s entrance. A nice middle-aged man who looked like the head butler came out to greet us.

As I stepped down from the carriage, he bowed deeply.

"Prince Robby, welcome. Lady Jacqueline is waiting for you."

Thank you very much... but Lady Jacqueline herself wasn’t at the entrance.

That worry proved unnecessary. When the front door opened, the Countess was standing there waiting. Compared to when I saw her at Mother’s tea party, the neckline of her dress was even more daring. Didn’t she mind the servants seeing? Then I noticed that except for the head butler, all the servants were women.

When Countess Rosette curtsied, her cleavage was so deep I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

She noticed my gaze and smiled.

"Welcome. I’ve been waiting for you. Delicious sweets are prepared over there."

She turned and led the way. *Huh? Aren’t I supposed to kiss the back of her hand as a greeting?* Well, I was just supposed to follow her lead anyway.

I was shown into what appeared to be her private sitting room on the second floor. It felt a bit small for a formal reception room — there was no long conference table, just a cozy sofa set. There was a door in the wall, though. Was that a miracle door leading straight to the next room without going into the hallway?