Slowly, but a Little Suddenly

Meanwhile, at Count Pelgaroin's castle.

Maldon chewed on a sausage as he sat before a table crowded with rich dishes. Across from him, Ashley ate a simple meal of salad and soup.

He couldn't help feeling put upon. Beside his sister's spare plate, his own feast made him look like a pig. The servants were watching, too. Even if none of them said a word, he felt as though they were comparing him with an ascetic nun.

“Hey.”

Ashley didn't respond.

She wasn't deliberately ignoring him. She was lost in thought, so absorbed that she scarcely noticed what was happening around her.

It wasn't unusual for Ashley to brood over something, but today there was a particularly distant look in her eyes.

Maldon's cheeks twitched with irritation. He struck the table.

“Can't you hear me?”

Only then did Ashley pause and raise her head. Her clear blue eyes, like the sea beneath a bright sky, looked at him with mild surprise.

“Brother? Were you speaking to me?”

“I was. Why are you so arrogant even at the dinner table?”

“It's nothing you need to know.”

Nothing I need to know?

A vein stood out on Maldon's forehead.

He'd long been aware that his sister quietly looked down on him. Hearing her dismiss him so openly was another matter.

“Ashley. If you keep behaving like this, don't expect even a bowl of soup when I become head of the family.”

“Head of the family?” Ashley asked. “Have you no conscience?”

“…What?”

Maldon scowled.

“What did you just—”

“Conscience.”

Ashley put down her spoon and met his gaze without a trace of agitation.

“I said you don't have any.”

A cold silence settled between them.

Maldon took a moment to regain his composure.

“I have nothing to be ashamed of. Tradition and the order of succession both support my becoming head of this family.”

“The sky you claim to be unashamed before must be the sky above the demon realm. You've done nothing but chase women, taking no interest in our family. And you think you should inherit it? Don't make me laugh.”

“What do you take me for…?”

“I'm telling you the truth. If you become head of House Pelgaroin, the family won't progress. It will decline.”

“Perhaps our family's long history will even come to an end in your lifetime.”

Maldon ground his teeth.

“Say whatever you like, you bitch. I'm going to be head of this house. When that day comes, I'll personally have you driven out of the county.”

“How can anyone be so foolish?”

Ashley looked at him with something approaching pity. His thinking seemed so shallow that she truly felt sorry for him.

“Brother, don't you understand why I can criticize you so openly?”

“What? What are you—”

Maldon stopped.

There were servants all around the dining room, waiting for orders. The head maid stood behind Ashley as motionless as a post.

And some distance away, knights of the Blue Banner had taken up positions on the pretext of guarding against unexpected trouble.

Why are there knights here at an ordinary meal?

Maldon hadn't asked for an escort. Ashley must have done so.

The knights were supposed to answer to Hildes Froheim. Yet they had come at Ashley's request without first reporting to their immediate commander.

To Maldon, it looked as though some members of the order were already treating Ashley as a likely successor.

His breath quickened.

The knights' hands hovered near their sword hilts.

“Ashley… Are you trying to take control of Pelgaroin? You're a woman!”

“I know how presumptuous it must seem. But I cannot entrust our family to you.”

“…Father won't allow it. The other noble families won't recognize you.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It's the truth. You can't change the line of succession just because you want to.”

Ashley wiped her mouth with a handkerchief.

“I'll decide what I can and cannot change.”

“Hah! The spring hunting gathering is coming soon. It was delayed by Her Highness's visit, but we'll have neighboring lords and allied families here before long. What if I tell them what you're plotting?”

“Can the breath of those people compare with a dragon's?”

Even if the lesser nobles all opposed her, winning the trust of the imperial family would matter far more. Ashley already had an understanding with Princess Benelia.

Besides, there were nobles who had begun saying Ashley ought to be recognized as the next head of the house.

Maldon knew nothing of those conversations. His sister's reply sounded like a riddle.

“…You've finally lost your mind. I thought you didn't care for power. Was all that an act?”

“No. I still have no interest in power.”

“What?”

If she didn't want power, why was she trying to seize his place? Maldon could make no sense of it.

Ashley lowered her handkerchief.

“I'm interested in people.”

There were several reasons she wanted to lead House Pelgaroin. The greatest was her love for Theorad.

She couldn't bear to watch the person she loved suffer. To protect him, she needed the authority her family could give her.

“So I hope you can forgive me, Brother.”

The words lacked sincerity.

Ashley stood.

Maldon, who had sat stunned for a moment, shoved back his chair to rise after her. The head maid fixed him with a hard stare.

“Lord Maldon. Her Highness the Princess's farewell ceremony will begin soon. You should avoid wasting your strength on pointless quarrels if you mean to be ready.”

It was a warning to leave Ashley alone.

Maldon looked at the maid, then at the knights, and reluctantly took up his cutlery again.

For now—and perhaps for some time to come—he saw no way to harm his sister.

---

A familiar ceiling.

I opened my eyes and stared around the room.

Solid oak furniture stood where it always had. In one corner rested a cardinal-shaped ornament.

My bedroom…

The light of the setting sun filtered through the window. It was already that hour of evening when the day seemed neither fully light nor dark.

I let out a weak breath and remembered Lerazie losing control during our confrontation.

Have I been unconscious all this time?

I gave a bitter laugh at my own helplessness.

“My, my. You've certainly got some expressions.”

Beynon sat nearby, one hand resting against his scruffy chin. He wore a stylish monocle over one eye.

It looked suspiciously like Havid's.

“Beynon.”

He looked up and blinked. The next moment he sagged with relief.

“Thank goodness, young master! You're finally awake. You gave me a fright.”

“Why?”

“You collapsed from overwork, didn't you? The slave you're always worrying about came running to tell me. I went up to the office and found you out cold against the wall. I carried you here and called the doctor. Lucky nothing serious happened.”

He clicked his tongue and closed the book he'd been reading.

Naturally, it was an erotic book. An unclothed woman was illustrated across its cover.

“Anyway, don't work yourself into the ground. I know you've got a family to look after, but that doesn't mean you have to kill yourself with work.”

His explanation was completely mistaken, but I couldn't tell him about Lerazie.

It was difficult to resent the concern behind his words. I sat up and managed a faint smile.

“Thank you. I feel much better knowing you're here. But, Beynon…”

“Yes, young master?”

“Isn't that the chief chamberlain's monocle?”

“Hm? Oh, this.”

Beynon grinned and adjusted it.

“It's mine now.”

“Yours?”

“Hear me out. That damn old man blamed me for your collapse. Said I ought to have made you train your body instead of letting you neglect your strength. But you were the one who said you didn't need physical training, weren't you?”

There was some truth in that. I nodded.

“When I told him it wasn't my fault, he got even angrier. Told me I'd be better off at a smithy getting my armor repaired than talking back to him. So I made a bet.”

“A bet?”

“A card game. If he won, I would listen to whatever he said for the rest of my life. If I won, I'd get his monocle.”

Beynon. Have you no shame?

I couldn't understand why Havid had accepted those terms either.

Beynon had spent at least twenty years as a mercenary. I didn't want to assume all mercenaries cheated at cards, but someone who had spent so much time in inns and taverns would surely know his way around a deck.

I sighed.

“Aren't you ashamed of tricking an old man?”

“He was the one who picked the fight…”

“That's beside the point. Take it back to him. Now.”

Beynon scratched his head, clearly dissatisfied, but nodded.

“All right. I wasn't planning to keep it forever anyway.”

He stood to leave, and I remembered something else.

“Oh. Send my slave here on your way out.”

“The elf?”

“Yes. There's something I need to say to her.”

“Understood.”

Beynon bowed and strode from the room.

Alone again, I settled against the pillows, breathing in the breeze from the open window.

Before long there was a knock, and the door opened.

The elf stood in the doorway in her maid's uniform.

Her face was as unreadable as ever. The sight made me nervous, but I couldn't send her away out of fear.

I'd done something terribly wrong to her. I needed to take responsibility for it.

“Come here. Sit down.”

I beckoned, struggling to keep my voice steady.

The elf approached. Yet the closer she came, the stranger she looked.

She had tied her hair into a ponytail behind her headband, letting it swing against her back. The upper buttons of her uniform were undone, exposing her collarbone.

Even her walk was different. There was a deliberate ease to her steps, something almost coquettish.

What is this supposed to mean? Is she declaring war on me?

My palms grew damp as I watched her sit in the chair beside the bed and straighten her back.

“Master, why did you call me?”

Her voice had an odd, affected elegance.

I could only stare.

As though I hadn't understood the message, she undid another button. More of her upper chest was revealed, and still she made no effort to cover herself.

I sat there, trying to decide what any of it meant.

At last I spoke as calmly as I could.

“If you're hot, I'll have summer clothes brought for you. Wear those instead.”

The elf's pointed ears twitched.

An awkward silence followed. Neither of us knew what to say.