Chapter 15

The atmosphere in the reception room was heavily sunken. Ordinarily, this would have been a place where various discussions about the territory’s affairs would have gone back and forth, but today was quite different.

Several of the retainers were furrowing their brows or pressing hard at their temples. They were knights of the new faction who had been exposed to demonic energy on the front lines of the Human-Demon War. They seemed to be suffering from headaches brought on by chronic demonic-energy poisoning, but the traditionalist nobles who had gathered them paid no mind, merely sipping their tea in silence.

In particular, the expression of the stern-faced old gentleman seated by the window, Baron Molton, was especially fierce.

He set down his teacup with an irritable touch and opened his mouth.

“I simply cannot fathom what His Grace is thinking.”

At his sharp voice, the eyes of the others converged on him.

“To bring a blood-spawn of unknown roots into the castle. And that is not enough, he even gave her a fine room? The dignity of the Grand Ducal House will fall to the ground.”

He habitually stroked the side hair he had pulled up and pasted over to cover his bald crown, and clicked his tongue.

“Well said!”

When Baron Molton openly voiced his discontent, the traditionalists nodded in agreement. The most delighted among them was Viscount Zenno.

But the new faction exchanged looks that said there was no need to go that far.

“I wonder if she is truly a child raised by Zeronias. Just looking at her, she seems cunning enough to have deliberately targeted His Grace and latched onto him. Perhaps something the demons left behind…….”

“That is going too far.”

“What?”

Baron Molton’s face twisted fiercely. It was Baron Kirein, the central figure of the new faction, who had stepped forward to check him.

“I only caught a brief glimpse of her, but she did not seem like such a child.”

“Do you have children, do you have anything? What do you know to be running your mouth like that?”

“Let us suppose, as Baron Molton says, that the child is a trace left by demons. Does that not mean His Grace was deceived by the demons’ shallow tricks?”

“Ahem.”

At Baron Kirein’s chilling retort, Baron Molton seemed to realize his misstep and quickly shut his mouth. He had ended up questioning his lord’s insight, so he had nothing more to say. But he did not withdraw his sidelong glare.

He had never liked that young fellow.

To receive the same title as himself just because he had earned some merit in the war was absurd. The Molton Barony was a family with tradition and backbone that had served the Ruventains as their lords since the days when they were a ducal house.

And yet for those who had rolled about on battlefields to hold the same voice as himself was insulting.

It was also absurd that they went around slumping like that, talking about aftereffects and whatnot. Even if the Ruventain Grand Duke had permitted it.

“His Grace is taking a walk.”

Just then, the youngest of the retainers, Viscount Sorelin, spoke up as if to lighten the mood. As if by agreement, they all moved toward the window.

The great pillar supporting the north of the empire, Calisto Ruventain.

He alone, standing in the middle of the garden, overwhelmed the air around him. His blond hair, scattering with each gust of wind, shone brilliantly like melted gold, and the pitch-black uniform that contrasted with it wrapped around his firm body.

Calisto, who had been indifferently strolling through the garden, stopped dead and stared somewhere. Then he knelt on one knee and spread both arms wide.

Then, from not far away, something like a golden ball of fur came scurrying over. A single cat followed gracefully behind it.

“The young lord is there as well.”

Calisto and Ailien were pressing their foreheads together, engaged in some heated conversation, and behind them Kaius was watching the scene with a complicated expression.

“Ahem.”

Someone let out a small cough from behind. It was a peaceful scene that made one’s heart tickle just by watching. At the sight of their lord, who had been shuttling between battlefields, looking like this for the first time in a long while, the new faction retainers gazed out the window as if they had briefly forgotten the murderous confrontation that had filled the reception room.

“My, my. Her clothes are all dirty.”

Of course, the traditionalists thought differently.

“Good heavens, how has our young lord’s clothing come to such a state? For one of noble birth to go rolling about in dirt pits……. A rolling stone has finally wrought its ill influence. I knew this would happen.”

“That is exactly what I was saying. You could scrub your eyes and still find not a shred of dignity.”

To the traditionalist nobles, that child was nothing but an unwelcome guest who threw the order of the Grand Ducal House into disarray. The impatience to drive her out as quickly as possible before she could taint the noble ones like some lowly contagion made their eyes glint.

But the new faction thought a little differently.

They were people who had lived steeped in blood and dirt on battlefields for a long time.

The fact that their lord, who had commanded battlefields with killing intent in his eyes, could wear such a relaxed face came to them as a strange sense of relief.

The peculiar vitality visible on the ever-sharp face of young lord Kaius, too, looked far healthier rather than adversely affected.

They could not take their eyes off this human side of the Ruventains they had never seen before.

***

Calisto, standing in the garden, doubted his own eyes for a moment.

A small child covered all over in dirt. In her carefully brushed and tied golden hair, leaves were tangled in disarray. The clothes she wore had already lost their original color.

She looked as though she had rolled around in a mud pit.

On her cheek, mottled with dirt, there was a wound. Calisto stroked her cheek and opened his mouth.

“Ailien?”

At his voice, the child snapped her head up.

“Sword!”

Ailien wore a face as bright as if she held the whole world. He unconsciously spread his arms toward the child running to him.

The child came scurrying to Calisto and stopped right before him. He, who had expected her to throw herself into his arms, lowered his hands sheepishly.

“What is this appearance?”

“Hoohaha!”

Even at Calisto’s question, Ailien only laughed heartily. She even thrust her round belly forward as if proud.

Watching Ailien merrily shaking her hips, Calisto carefully reached a hand toward the child’s head.

It was to remove the leaves atop her small head.

At that, Ailien squeezed her eyes shut and pushed her head forward. Flustered by the child’s bold action, Calisto nonetheless removed the leaves.

“My hair too!”

“Hm?”

“Lili’s hair came undone!”

Ailien began shaking her head wildly side to side as if it were bothersome. The hair tied in two pigtails whipped about. Calisto’s expression softened at the sight of one side hanging loosely.

So, you are asking me.

Calisto Ruventain.

“You want me to tie your hair?”

“Tight!”

Calisto was quite taken aback by the sudden situation. Yes, he supposed he just needed to tie it a bit tighter, but having never done such a thing in his life, his hands lost their place and wandered in the air.

If Evangeline were here, she would have done it skillfully. Or at the very least, he could have called a maid or an attendant. But he could not bring himself to call anyone else. Because that small crown of a head, trusting and entrusting itself to him, was so utterly lovable.

Calisto finally rolled up his uniform sleeves. His massive hands, which had cut down tens of thousands of demons on battlefields, approached the child’s hair, delicate enough to crumble, with great care. As if carrying out the most important operation in the world, he began to fiddle with the strands with a solemn expression.