Chapter Ten

I looked at Rion, then at Aster following behind, and finally at the sword at her side.

“Oh god, of course!”

I must be insane. How could I forget about the sword? I completely forgot about it because of that asshole Dylan causing shit! The sword! Rion! Wish! Author! I remember this place boiling over with creepy magic vibes when I went berserk, but there was no hint of that now. That had to be what was off!

“Aster, is there anything strange here?”

“What do you mean?”

If Aster, who was far more sensitive than I, couldn’t sense anything, it meant this place was currently free from dark magic. Was the sword still in the same place? No, wait. There was something more urgent than that.

“Rion!”

“Y-yes?”

I grabbed Rion’s shoulders. I desperately needed his cooperation to end this.

“Rion, do you have anything you desire from me?”

“D-desire?”

“Yes! Anything is fine, physical or conceptual, whichever.”

I had hoped he would tell me anything, anything at all, but all he did was show me bewilderment. He also seemed to think that I was scolding him because he shrank down.

“I’m sorry, sister, I’ve never thought about it before…”

Ugh. To think that being altruistic would be so inconvenient. Even if I kept pressuring him, I probably wouldn’t get a proper answer.

“Never mind, I was too hasty. Let me know if you think of anything you want.”

Whether it was the duke’s position or Shitbag #1’s head on a platter, I could do anything for you. I squeezed Rion’s shoulder. Rion shifted awkwardly, but then smiled brightly. He scratched his cheek as if he was embarrassed.

“Yes, I promise I’ll let you know,” he shyly answered.

Good. That’s all that matters. Once I heard his response, I linked arms with Rion, and we continued jauntily toward his room. I put him in his bed and tucked in the blankets around him, patting his little chest and humming, “Go to sleep.” I watched him until his eyes closed, then left the room.

I rounded up the maids I had assigned to Rion. I held them responsible for failing to realize that the kid was roaming about the house late at night until early morning, and told them I would be slashing their monthly pay. The maids accepted their punishment and bowed deeply. I told Aster to inform the head maid of this matter. She saluted in response and hurried off to find the head maid. I took this opportunity to look around the basement.

***

It was around here somewhere… I couldn’t feel any magic, so I had to rely on my memory. I found the familiar storage room, then the door. A wine barrel blocked the way, and I grunted as I struggled to move it. I was about to pick the lock open when, upon closer inspection, I realized the door wasn’t even locked—in fact, it was slightly ajar. Why is this open?

I pushed the door, perplexed. As the door creaked open effortlessly, I saw nothing inside. There were no chains and no sword. It was just an empty space.

Part II: Life #22 (Rosalite, Sixteen Years Old)

A few days had passed since I found out there was nothing in the basement of the annex. Regardless of my concerns, everything remained the same: the duke went about his business as usual, Rion studied hard, and I was still a sardine in my can of an office.

I thought that if something that chaotic was in this house, the duke would have already pulled it out.

At this stage, I wondered if the conversation with the blade was just a figment of my imagination. Maybe it was a hallucination brought on by repeated suicides. Still, it was all too vivid to call it a hallucination.

“Aster.”

“Yes?”

“Do you think swords can talk?”

“Do you want to go for a walk, Little Miss?”

No, I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Don’t treat me like a crazy person. I’m not tired. No, don’t lift me and drag me outside!

“Aster, I haven’t lost my mind. You can stop.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy, Little Miss. I’m sure you’re just a little tired.”

Don’t be so considerate. It’s enraging. And if we were to go on a walk, I would want to breathe in some proper fresh air. Not the few minutes of playtime in the yard to soak in the sun like a goddamn prisoner. I wanted to go outside of the estate. Our duchy was famous for being the shopping haven of the entire country, but I had no memories of hanging out in this place.

I was squabbling with Aster about staying in or going outside when I saw a royal carriage racing toward the estate. That’s odd. Why is that thing here? It was a long time until Her Majesty the Queen’s birthday, and we had just had the banquet for the Crown Prince, so there was no reason for the royal carriage to arrive with news. The maidservant with connections to our House, the same who kept an eye on the court mage, would send word in secret, not in a royal carriage in broad daylight.

“You aren’t running out there this time, Little Miss?”

I stood there thinking. I hesitated slightly longer at her words that she was always ready to run with me in her arms and then made up my mind and let her have her way.

“Let’s go, Aster! What’s there to lose?”

“Certainly, Little Miss!”

Aster lifted me into her arms, jumped down the stairs as usual, and took us to the front doors. The duke was already there. Damn. I could never beat him if I didn’t start booking it as soon as I saw the carriage.

“You’re late, Little Miss,” said Sir William.

Yeah, I know that. I climbed down from Aster and walked toward the duke, ignoring Sir William’s cheeky comment. The duke spoke briefly with the royal attendant, then had Sir William move some luggage. He unrolled a parchment and read through it.

“May Her Royal Highness the Queen possess everlasting exultation.”

After giving the attendant an appropriate goodbye, the duke dismissed him and threw the rolled-up parchment at me.

“It’s up to you. I personally fully concur.”

The hell’s going on? The duke had Sir William hand over the luggage to Aster, bags filled with piles upon piles of portraits. The duke said he may as well take a walk in the sun while he was out, and he headed toward the doors like a model inmate. I unfurled the parchment and slowly read each word.

“What’s going on, Little Miss?” asked Aster. “These here are all paintings of men.”

I scowled darkly as I read the Queen’s words:

Rosalite is young, but she must get married someday. The duchy is busy. If she’s going to get married anyway, bring in a husband now and use him for the good of the House. Here are some suitable men. Take your pick.

I could see the Crown Prince’s assholery behind it all. “That little turd. So this is what it’s going to be like?”

I crumpled the parchment, along with the royal seal. Shit’s already hit the fan, so how should I fix it? I held the wrinkled parchment tightly in my hand as I followed the duke’s footsteps down Model Inmate Lane. Even if it was only a “suggestion,” the fact that the Queen herself wrote the letter, used super high-quality parchment, and sealed it with the royal insignia meant that it had some legal force.

Not to mention that Her Royal Highness was a lady of the House of Edanelli, which was deeply intimate with our House. She’d known the duke since they were children, so she most likely hoped I would make things easier for the duke. That dickwad Crown Prince.

I knew he was upset that I kept dogging him about getting married and paying for the construction, and that I scattered bundles of various drafts at him. But to take it out on me like this? Aren’t you embarrassed about running to your mama like that when you’re twenty-four years old? Maybe people still ran to their mothers when they were twenty-four.

“Aster.”

“Yes, Little Miss?”

“Do you like your mom?” I decided to ask twenty-two-year-old Aster’s opinion on this matter, just in case I was being oblivious.

She nodded without hesitation.

“I don’t know about my father, but I like my mom.”

“Do you miss her?”

“I don’t know about my father, but I miss my mom even when I see her every day.”

So it seemed that one’s early twenties was undoubtedly still an age when people searched out their mothers. After making sure I wasn’t wrong, I finished my walk without another word.

The days of innocently obsessing over dating and marriage were long gone. Whomever I would end up marrying, I would most likely use him just as my secretary. We would likely have separate bedrooms, and stay married long enough to appease the Queen. Upon the Queen’s passing, I’d almost certainly send him back home with an alimony and pension. If only there was a man who worked hard and followed directions; was quick-witted but not self-assertive; then I would be all for that marriage. Still, there was no way an outstanding individual who was noble enough to get married to a future duchess would also meet these qualifications.

Just as these thoughts entered my mind, I saw someone who made my eyes widen. That someone was sitting on a sunny bench, leisurely reading a book. When I passed, he looked up from his book, in the middle of turning a page.

He put down the book he had been calmly reading, stood up with the help of his cane, and bowed to me. Every gesture he made was so neat, he had an air of chasteness about him. He was the very embodiment of a literary youth. I could nearly smell the scent of old books and coffee radiating off him.

“Is everything to your liking at the estate?”

Normally, I would just nod and turn my head, but I had business with him today. As I strode toward him, Glen looked panicky for a moment but answered promptly.

“Everything is very comfortable, thanks to you. I am always ready to come at your call.”

Yes, he’s quick-witted, this one. I stiffened my face to stifle my smile. He was a slender, rather tall man, and his handsomeness was right up there with the first-class-in-face-only Crown Prince’s. It wouldn’t be embarrassing to take this one with me to Her Majesty the Queen’s birthday banquet. I could easily pressure the Crown Prince into finding a wife, telling him that even I had brought a nice man.

“What family did you come from before joining the dukedom?”

“The House of the Baron of Hoffen, though the Hoffen name and estate were absorbed by the royal family after the baron’s death.”

So, you were the child of a baron who had his own land, even if it didn’t exist anymore. Favorable qualifications overall. A bit lower class, but high enough to mingle with. The city of Hoffen was well off as it had its indigenous products and was located at a crossroad on the way to the capital. With a little investment, the city would grow immensely.

I wouldn’t be able to grant him land immediately, but with Uncle Louis as a sponsor, I could return his Hoffen surname. That would fall in with the pretext of protecting him and adding the Hoffen estate to the duchy’s power in the future, so there was nothing but gain for me.

“Age?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your age?”

“I am twenty this year…”

Good. Very good. Pretty fucking good, actually. I’m sixteen, and you’re twenty. They say a four-year age gap is best.

“Follow me. I have something for you to do.”

Still, it was too early to choose Glen just yet. There was one more hurdle left to bring him in as a member of this House.