The instant tears started rolling down her cheeks, Carlyle grabbed her by the shoulders, alarmed.
“Rowell?!”
“How could you, senior, do that to meee…?”
“Huh? Do what?”
“I saw scary things, and, I get the spacing right in reports, and, I write ’em all by myseeelf.”
“That’s— true! But…”
“I got hit with black magic, and I didn’t even let it shoow.”
“…!”
Carlyle’s heart dropped at that.
Plenty of people were still suffering from the black magic artifact the men at the hideout had set off.
He’d assumed Leila was fine, since she had divine power. At least, she’d looked fine.
But had she really been fine?
I heard that thing forces you to relive your worst memory.
She’d probably been so worried about the kids at the orphanage that she never let on how badly it had hit her, too…
Had the pressure she’d been holding back finally broken loose, with the alcohol loosening her grip on it?
I should have noticed. This is on me.
Carlyle spoke with complete sincerity.
“Rowell, you’re the single best talent I’ve ever worked with. You’re perfect. The most perfect person in this world.”
“Then whyyy can’t I even have ice creeeam?”
Leila sank straight down onto the ground, sniffling.
“Waaah, my life is so unfaaair…”
“Rowell…”
“Trapped by a scam contract… what even is thiiis… I wanted to coast through life tooo…”
“…”
“Waaah, three years a slaaave, and a slave can’t even have ice creeeam…”
His junior’s lament, breaking apart mid-sentence and starting over, shattered something in Carlyle’s mind.
Right. This is my fault.
Because he’d brought her along, they’d finally uncovered “the Seres Order” as the force behind everything.
And yet Carlyle Rupesk, a man who couldn’t even buy his junior a single scoop of ice cream, was the real criminal here.
An indisputable fact.
Carlyle gently lifted Leila, still hiccupping on the cold ground, and soothed her.
“No, you deserve it. Let’s go get some right now.”
“sniff, okaaay.”
He glanced anxiously up at the clock tower.
Cutting it close, but it should still work.
And once again, Carlyle Rupesk was about to regret this decision with his entire being.
Cedric Lorington greeted his lord with a bewildered expression.
“Y— Young Grand Duke. What could possibly bring you here at this hour…?”
“Don’t ask. Did you bring what I needed?”
“Ah, yes sir!”
Cedric snapped to attention and held out “the item.”
Thank goodness the ducal townhouse wasn’t far.
An ice cream parfait made from fresh melon flash-frozen with magic, a cherry perched neatly on top.
Carlyle carefully placed it into Leila’s hands.
“Rowell. I got you the melon flavor you wanted.”
“Melon flavoor… I love melon flavoor so much…”
“Right, eat plenty of it, Rowell.”
The whole situation was absurd, but there was something genuinely nice about watching his junior eat, completely absorbed in it.
Glad she’s happy, at least.
There couldn’t have been much to feel happy about, since joining this department.
Meanwhile, Cedric, watching Carlyle watch Leila, asked cautiously.
“Sir, Young Grand Duke. Might we host this lady at the estate, just for tonight…?”
“That would violate proper conduct standards for officials. Don’t suggest that, Lorington.”
“Yes sir, apologies.”
“Keep your distance and follow us.”
“Understood.”
Now that they knew the Seres Order was behind everything, tonight’s precautions needed to be airtight.
Once his junior finished her ice-cream hangover cure, he’d take her straight back to the dormitory.
I’ll knock on every single door in the staff break room if that’s what it takes to find someone on duty.
Leila followed along at his side, looking considerably more content now. Then, suddenly, she pointed at something and shouted.
“Eek! A riveer!”
“That’s right, well spotted. That’s the palace’s Summersby River.”
Just below the hill they were standing on ran the river that curved around the palace grounds.
Beautiful scenery, but the water ran high this time of year, and it was dangerous in the dark.
Ah. Rowell can’t afford to trip.
She seemed to be walking fine for now, but she was still thoroughly drunk.
Should I… hold her hand?
What, like they were engaged or something?
Maybe I should hold her by the shoulder instead of her hand?
Even if it looked a little like he was marching a prisoner along.
“Rowell. It could be dangerous, so let me hold your shoul— Rowell?!”
That was the moment Carlyle realized something.
A drunk adult (age twenty) was functionally identical to a five-year-old who’d let go of their mother’s hand and bolted straight for the toy store!
In that brief instant, Leila had already started down the hillside.
“Rowell, come back!”
But Leila was too busy humming a tune to even glance back at him.
Instead, she pulled off her shoes one at a time, holding them—
Splash!
—and waded straight into the river.
“Ahahaha!”
“Rowell! No!”
He plunged into the river after her without a second thought. Somewhere behind him, he could hear Cedric shrieking, but he didn’t care.
“Rowell, hold sti—!”
He wrapped an arm, somewhat roughly, around her waist and hauled her out of the water.
The splashing echoed, deafeningly loud.
But Leila only burst into giggles, babbling on.
“Whoops, cold again todaaay!”
“Rowell, please, calm down!”
Never again. No more company dinners. Ever.
Carlyle panted, repeating the same thought to himself over and over, dozens of times.
No, I’m confiscating every single glass the instant it so much as touches her lips!
He finally managed to get Leila seated on a bench, where she sat grinning, blissfully happy.
“Hehehehe. The sky’s gettin’ closer.”
“…”
“So pretty…”
“Right… looking at the sky… with you…”
He knelt in front of Leila, thoughts scattering in every direction.
What was the basic incantation for a drying spell, again… he was too rattled to think straight…
That was when Leila tapped his shoulder.
“Senior, senior, senior.”
“What is it…”
“I got a questioon.”
“Hm?”
“If I died, senior… would you come to my funeraaal?”
At that, Carlyle went rigid, as if doused in ice water.
Every one of those endless gravestones back in the grand duchy’s territory rose up in his mind, vivid and immediate.
“I’m askin’ yaaa…”
Her hand, weak as it was, kept shaking his shoulder, insistent.
But when Carlyle’s answer came too slowly, Leila simply turned her gaze up toward the sky.
“Guess it wouldn’t matter, once I quit anyway.”
“Rowell.”
“Even after eight hours a daaay, together… it’s nothin’, in the end. Whatever.”
“…It’s not nothing.”
Carlyle murmured, quiet.
He slipped the shoes he’d retrieved back onto Leila’s feet.
“I can’t do this job forever, obviously… but once it’s over, we could still see each other, for a long time after.”
“…”
“And didn’t I already promise you? That I’d protect you…”
Which meant the answer to a strange, sudden question like “would you come to my funeral” was: no.
There’s no reason Rowell would ever die.
But by the time he lifted his head, Leila Rowell had already fallen fast asleep.
“Rowell…?”
“Pfft…”
“…”
Did she not hear a single word I just said?
Before long, Cedric came rushing over from a distance.
He reported to Carlyle, out of breath, gasping.
“Huff, huff, Young Grand Duke. I’m sorry to say this, but…”
“You don’t have to.”
“Ah, yes sir.”
Because Cedric had only been about to say that dormitory curfew had already passed.
Carlyle let out a sigh deep enough to sink into the ground itself.
“Haah… I suppose we’re headed to the townhouse, then.”
“Young Grand Duke, I’m afraid there’s something else I need to tell you.”
“What is it.”
“…His Grace the Grand Duke actually just arrived today.”
“…”
Carlyle thought to himself, once again.
That in more ways than one, this was a night he wasn’t going to be forgetting anytime soon.
…I woke up one day and apparently got isekai’d into a romance-fantasy world.
Guess in my past life, I must have just dropped dead from drinking at a company dinner.
