The True Measure of Nobility

“Sister Antolia, you simply must grace our ball next week with your presence.” A tall gentleman suddenly approached and said. Antolia, after a moment of surprise, replied, “Are these sorts of banquets not typically held only once a month?” “This is the kingdom’s official social banquet, but we also host our own independent balls. Believe me, several of my ducal friends would be quite keen to make your acquaintance… In fact, we’ve been discussing a matter. It’s not as though only individuals like Sister Antolia possess a benevolent spirit. Observing the Church’s efforts in providing welfare for the lower classes, we occasionally deliberate… perhaps offering some relief to the residents of the impoverished districts. You know, just… a bit of occasional charity.” “Oh, now that’s an intriguing topic.” Another voice immediately chimed in. “What do those people need? What can we possibly offer? My own young daughter, in fact, expressed a desire to distribute relief supplies there. However, I didn’t quite approve of her doing so… It’s quite obvious, and this is not prejudice, that the people in the lower districts… are rather unclean, carrying various pathogens. It wouldn’t be suitable for her to go.” “Indeed, the mere thought of their clothes teeming with lice and all manner of parasites… it’s quite unsettling.” “I’ve heard they also carry all sorts of diseases… Without proper precautions, it’s truly inadvisable to have too much contact.” Listening to such preposterous and frankly laughable remarks, the expression on the sister’s face subtly shifted. Her previously rigid smile softened ever so slightly. She surveyed the people before her, then, after a moment of silence, spoke. “If you are all so fearful, perhaps you should depart immediately. After all, the very person standing before you emerged from the slums. For a period, I lived in Linders’ lower district, within the slums themselves, sharing their lives and their meals. Even now, I continue my relief work within the slums. In truth, what you term ‘charity’ might, in your eyes, be nothing more than a business venture. Who wouldn’t desire a good reputation? I have encountered individuals who, while proclaiming a desire for all to receive their benevolence, would, in the next breath, cast the most disdainful glances upon those they deemed mere ants. For them, charity is simply a business, a guaranteed profitable one. They show no concern for improving the conditions of the lower classes, nor for people’s genuine needs. They offer bread and water because they know these things must be accepted. Such beneficence from the upper echelons to the common folk might indeed generate a sense of accomplishment in doing good. And there is nothing inherently wrong with that, as some people genuinely require assistance. Truly, they are in desperate need.” “Are you suggesting our charitable intentions are merely a display of vanity?” someone retorted, realizing the implication. “Is your Church not the same? Relying on state-provided resources to distribute to the poor, thereby earning its own reputation?” “…I never stated that. There are undoubtedly genuinely kind individuals, but the Church differs from typical noble relief stations in one crucial aspect… our perspective is fundamentally different. From ancient times, the powerful aiding the weak has been considered a mark of civilization. Yet, this so-called relief also operates under a certain premise. Gentlemen, have the nobility always been inherently noble?” “Naturally so; nobility flows through the very bloodlines of the aristocracy.” No sooner had the gentleman uttered these words than Sister Antolia tilted her head, then, with a smile, began to speak. “However, even nobles were, in their earliest origins, mere commoners. This is particularly true here, in the Border Kingdom. After the Church’s Border Act was passed, vast numbers of soldiers arrived at the frontier to combat the beastmen, forming settlements. The most capable and their leaders were granted lands, titles, and royal recognition based on their merits. Thus, new families and new crests were born, and during this period, a new aristocratic system emerged in the Northlands. Nobility itself does not merely signify rule; it also entails the obligation to bear responsibility. During wartime, it is the knight’s duty to ensure the peaceful lives of the people within their territory, and with their strength, to loyally serve their king and protect their subjects. Nobles are not meant to be aloof and superior; they are only fit to stand in positions of authority when they truly represent the people.” “What kind of fallacy is this…? Of course, nobles have an obligation to fulfill their duties, but those refugees, do you truly believe they deserve food? Some may face genuine hardship, but the majority are merely lazy scoundrels who wish to reap without sowing, contemptible peasants unwilling to till the land!” The gentleman declared, to which Antolia, now looking directly at him, inquired, “Pray tell, Sir, how much grain do you receive in a year?” “At least twenty cartloads…” “Twenty cartloads of grain, and that accounts solely for plain wheat flour, not even considering various meats, sugar, salt, or cheese… Meanwhile, a frontier farmer typically subsists on about two to three cartloads of grain per year. In a bountiful year, they might amass a little more in reserve, but in a place like the Northlands… what can be sustained is always meager. And what of their yield? A frontier farmer’s field, cultivating potatoes, wheat, and various crops, might hypothetically produce enough to fill ten cartloads annually. From these ten cartloads, according to the Border Kingdom’s agricultural tax laws, the state levies nearly four cartloads in taxes each year. The remaining six cartloads allow the farmers to earn a meager living through trade. Now, Master Gentleman, have you ever personally tilled the fields?” “I—” “The harvest of an entire year, after a significant portion has been traded, leaves just enough grain for the farmers who cultivate it to merely subsist. This is under ideal circumstances, without major calamities. Should there be a widespread poor harvest, or if the Border Demon Lord’s army causes disruption, or beastmen encroach, rendering the farmers’ fields unsustainable, when they cannot even protect their own homes—is it not somewhat inappropriate to describe them as ‘nothing but a bunch of lazy good-for-nothings unwilling to farm’?” “This…” “Gentleman, the grain you are able to hoard in your home is the product of their daily labor over fifteen or twenty years. The very bread you find most unpalatable is made from the wheat they painstakingly cultivated for an entire year. They have consistently fulfilled their obligations. And you, noble sirs, where are your obligations? The kingdom promised them an environment where they could live peacefully and serenely at the frontier—a peaceful region, a border undisturbed by foreign enemies. If these promises remain unfulfilled, why demand their unwavering loyalty and service to the state? Perhaps in your eyes, those who stream into this city are mere refugees, escapists from the harsh frontier conditions, a burden upon the city’s lower strata. But what, precisely, transformed these citizens into the ‘refugees’ you speak of? That, I believe, should not be a difficult question to answer.”