After a while, Anning suddenly felt something leaning on his shoulder.
When he turned his head, he realized it was Kroetz's head.
— Damn it, there's no joy in having a man lean on my shoulder.
Thinking that, Anning acted to push the young master's head away, but the moment he touched Kroetz's shoulder, he suddenly felt a doubt.
"Is this guy's shoulder a bit too narrow?" Anning muttered to himself, pressing down on both of Kroetz's shoulders, left and right, they seemed to be indeed too narrow for a man.
Once doubt arose, everything Anning saw became suspicious.
Like Kroetz's smooth chin.
Anning himself was the type whose beard grew relatively fast; if he didn't shave for a day, touching his face would reveal a distinctly fuzzy feeling.
But Kroetz's chin was smooth as could be, without any prickly sensation at all.
Even if he was young, shouldn't it still not be this smooth?
Anning glanced at the German peasant driving the cart in front, making sure he wasn't paying attention to the back, and then gently confirmed the firmness of Kroetz's pectoral muscles.
— Is this considered hard or soft?
Even if it were a girl, she could be flat-chested, so I guess I can only confirm directly...
Kroetz was wearing the tight breeches commonly worn by nobles, with the length just reaching the knees, and his legs beneath the knees wrapped in white long stockings.
From a future perspective, wouldn't this attire be considered sexy on a woman?
Unfortunately, in this era, women wouldn't dress like this, whereas it was all the noble lords who wore tight breeches and long stockings.
And they were white silk stockings.
Anning focused on Kroetz's breeches, thinking that if this person were male, the shape of these breeches would be too lackluster.
But to check directly would be too much; what if he happened to wake up?
I've just completed the extra mission goal and raised Kroetz's favorability to trust, and the fifty crowns reward is still in the bank, waiting for me to collect.
If I satisfy my curiosity and lose all the favorability in one go, wouldn't that be a loss?
— If I act as if I've noticed nothing, there will be no negative effects, the only issue being that I can't satisfy my curiosity.
Besides, if Kroetz really is a girl, I'll have plenty of opportunities to find out—surely she can't avoid going to the toilet?
After making up his mind, Anning suppressed his curiosity, pretending that he hadn't noticed anything.
Just then, the German peasant turned and said to Anning in heavy-accented high German: "Just ahead we'll be leaving our Lord's territory. Although I'm not a serf, but..."
Anning: "You've received a silver coin, think about that coin, think about its tempting luster."
The peasant thought it over, then continued to drive the cart forward.
The nobles in Germany should have conducted a serfdom reform under the leadership of Frederick II and Empress Theresa, liberating a part of the serfs.
This old peasant must have been a serf in his younger years under the Lord before obtaining his freedom; now he still didn't dare to cross the Lord's territorial boundary lines carelessly.
The oxcart moved past the boundary line with a sway.
Anning saw a sudden stone stump by the roadside and guessed that it must be the boundary marker.
Whether it truly was, he did not know.
Just past the boundary marker, the ox cart passed a group of soldiers in white uniforms, remnants of the defeated French Army.
One of the fleeing soldiers rolled up a flag full of iris flowers, using the flagpole as a walking stick, hobbling along.
When that soldier spotted the ox cart, he immediately opened his mouth to say something, but then he saw Anning and young master Kroetz on the cart.
He stared at Kroetz's crescent dog tag, then sneered and looked away.
Anning guessed the soldier had wanted a lift, but hesitated upon seeing the officer's authority.
After all, it was now the year 1780, the Great Revolution hadn't broken out yet; officers still held some prestige among commoners.
Once the French people sent Louis XVI to the guillotine, it'd be hard to say if the nobility's crescent dog tags would still possess such intimidation.
The ox cart creaked and rattled, driving past the disheartened and retreating soldiers.
Most of them chose silence after seeing Kroetz's dog tag, not asking for a ride.
Finally, iris flags began to appear in front of the ox cart.
Anning stretched his neck to look ahead.
It seemed that the French military units ahead were building defensive structures relying on the hillocks.
Closer still, by the muddy roadside, an officer stood yelling at the soldiers trudging along the road: "Deserters, register here. Those who can't write, go over there and report your name to the clerk. Those who can write, come here and sign up..."
Anning raised his voice: "Sir, my master is Croci de Tolleson, son of the Duke of Orleans!"
Actually, Anning should also report his own identity: Andy Frost, band member of the 17th Regiment of the 21st Infantry Division of Caen.
But he didn't want to be separated from the young master, so he deliberately concealed his own identity, letting everyone naturally assume he was Tolleson's orderlie.
The mission he was assigned, literally, was to ensure young master's safe passage to the presence of the Duke. Anning would not allow the mission to fail by separating from the young master prematurely.
The officer approached the ox cart, leaning on the railing to take a look, and after seeing the still unconscious Kroetz, he withdrew his gaze.
Kroetz looked exactly like an inexperienced young lord of nobility, and his identity was immediately recognized by the officer.
"The clerk responsible for registering the nobility survivors is ahead; you won't have to go far to see him, pass my regards to the Marquis," the officer waved his hand.
Anning was somewhat puzzled: Marquis?
At this moment, he suddenly remembered something—somewhere he read that Europeans would honor the son of a duke as a marquis, the son of a marquis as an earl, and so on.
Therefore, Kroetz should rightfully be addressed as Marquis Tolleson, as he was the son of the Duke of Orleans.
Anning couldn't help but facepalm, as he realized he had not once referred to Kroetz as Marquis the previous night.
But this fellow already had a high degree of trust in him—or her—they probably wouldn't mind this detail, right?
While Anning was pondering all this, the officer in charge of gathering the deserters asked him with a puzzled look, "Do you have any questions? Why aren't you moving?"
Only then did Anning remember the old farmer didn't understand French, hence he ignored the officer's earlier directive to move forward.
Anning then said to the old farmer in German: "Forward, stop next to that officer, sir."
"Buddy," the officer gathering deserters said with a smile, "your High German is not bad, the accent seems authentic. Looks like the Duke found a very reliable attendant for the Marquis."
Anning smiled back in response.
He indeed was mistaken for Kroetz's attendant.
That was for the best.
In this way, he would escort Kroetz back to his father's side under the identity of an attendant!