In the end, Aska had broken six spoons.
Every single one had folded in half the moment it touched his hand.
It was enough to make Riersha briefly wonder if he was doing it on purpose.
“I will personally purchase a matching set of cutlery from the same brand and present it to you.”
And on top of that, Aska had written out an apology pledge all on his own — without being asked — signed it with a cheerful grin, and left.
He’d made such a fuss over the whole thing that Riersha had felt momentarily confused about which of them was supposed to be holding the leverage over the other.
“Then I look forward to seeing you again, Miss Riersha.”
With that breezy promise of a next meeting, Aska had whisked himself out the door.
Riersha stared down at the pledge sitting alone on her desk.
Something had blown through like a whirlwind, and yet she hadn’t lost anything.
So why did she feel like she’d been had?
What was that feeling?
Just then, a knock sounded at the door.
“Miss Riersha, it’s Oberon.”
“Come in.”
At her permission, the door opened. Oberon stepped inside, dipped his head in a brief bow, and walked closer.
“I’ve come to report on the matter you asked me to look into.”
“Mm. Whadja find out?”
“It was exactly as you anticipated, Miss Riersha. Duke Macton Willias’s movements have reportedly grown considerably more cautious of late.”
“Figured.”
It seemed the photo threat had worked after all.
She’d honestly had her doubts about whether that approach would land.
But the bluff she’d played against Duke Willias had paid off better than expected.
“In particular, the frequency of his meetings with other nobles has dropped noticeably.”
Oberon’s report continued. According to him, Macton Willias had been turning away every bribe sent by the nobility in recent weeks.
And with good reason — if it ever came to light that the Willias family, publicly renowned for their unbending integrity, had been quietly pocketing bribes behind closed doors, their reputation would collapse straight into the dirt. That much was obvious without even thinking it through.
To be crushed and soiled until the moment came when everything he’d built would have to be surrendered.
No matter how blind with greed Macton Willias might be, he knew precisely what he had to protect.
“Good. Very well done.”
Riersha smiled with satisfaction.
If things continued in this direction, she would draw ever closer to the picture she had in mind.
Move too hastily and it would all fall apart — so she intended to finish the painting carefully, piece by piece.
“Ah, and there is one more matter I need to report.”
“What is it?”
“Apparently, Macton Willias has been quietly digging into the Empress’s past.”
“The Empress?”
“Yes.”
Oberon’s eyes narrowed.
“I believe he may have caught wind of something.”
“Makes sense.”
He would have been suspicious for quite some time now — far longer than just recently.
After all, Berun Kineart, who had the full weight of the Imperial House behind him, had been left completely paralyzed in this affair.
Oberon pressed on with his report.
“Duke Willias has apparently been making inquiries into the whereabouts of a lady’s maid who served the Empress.”
“A lady’s maid?”
“Yes. One who served at the Empress’s side for nearly twenty years. His intention is likely to learn through her what the Kineart family has been concealing.”
Twenty years.
At those words, Riersha’s ears sharpened.
Which meant…
That maid might know.
What the Empress had done to Riersha while she was still in the womb. How she had done it.
That woman could be the decisive key to exposing the Empress’s crimes.
“Shall we look into her whereabouts from our end as well?”
Oberon asked when he noticed Riersha’s interest.
“…No. Don’t bother.”
Riersha shook her head — there was no need.
Because she was already dead.
I’m certain of it.
Riersha was sure.
That maid would no longer be among the living.
Riersha’s crimson eyes settled into quiet stillness.
The Empress might have kept the woman alive out of fond sentiment — after all, they had spent twenty years together. But Berun Kineart would never have stood by and allowed it.
He was cold-blooded enough to have locked away the young Isierd in the basement of his own estate.
A maid’s life would mean less to him than an ant’s.
But there was something else that left Riersha with a deeper unease.
The master of the Declair Empire.
The sun of this nation.
The Emperor.
He’s been strangely quiet.
Macton Willias was his closest confidant, and however much he might be blocking the Emperor’s ears, there had to be limits to that.
There would surely be others — third parties keeping the Emperor informed of how things were unfolding — and yet the Emperor had been silent in a way that felt almost suspicious.
Well. If the Emperor’s being quiet for now, that makes things easier on my end too.
She didn’t know what he was angling for, but time would tell.
For now, Riersha decided to focus on handling what was immediately in front of her.
“Good work, Oberon. You can go now.”
Just as she said he could be on his way, Oberon didn’t turn to leave. Instead, he stood there, gaze fixed on something. When Riersha followed his eyes downward, she found the antique spoons, bent and twisted into ruin.
“Oh, those.”
“What are those?”
Riersha glanced at the spoons and shrugged.
“Aska broke them.”
Aska was a name Oberon knew well enough.
There wasn’t a soul in the ducal household who didn’t know the Legion Commander.
What puzzled him was…
“What possible connection does that man have to those spoons?”
The Legion Commander.
Spoons.
No matter how he turned it over in his mind, the link wasn’t there.
Was there some profound meaning hidden in this?
Just as Oberon’s brow was furrowing into deep creases —
“Ah, these are something Aska owes me.”
“…Owes you?”
“Mm-hm. There’s even a pledge over here.”
Riersha held up a sheet of paper.
I, Aska, hereby acknowledge that while personally feeding Miss Riersha pudding, I bent her spoons out of shape beyond repair.
I hereby swear that before the year is out, I will present Miss Riersha with spoons of the matching brand.
A pledge.
And a thoroughly ridiculous one at that.
“Ha.”
A small, involuntary laugh escaped Oberon.
Having seen a great many samples of handwriting over the years, Oberon was certain of one thing: whoever had written this had been in an exceedingly cheerful mood while doing so.
The letters swooped and swirled with such gleeful energy that the tails of each stroke looked ready to take flight.
As Oberon read on, one eyebrow climbed steadily upward.
“…That man personally fed you pudding?”
“Mm-hm.”
“But Miss Riersha — haven’t you recently stopped refusing to be fed by others?”
Oberon turned toward Sona as though confirming a fact.
Sona nodded back with exaggerated emphasis.
At that, Oberon’s gaze turned sharp.
After the little wolf cub…
And now the spoon-bending rat was making a play for Riersha’s attention as well.
For just a fraction of a second, something flickered in Oberon’s eyes.
⁂
The Young Duke’s Castle.
Pernoa had received a recent report concerning Riersha and summoned Carden. In plain terms, it was time for a parent-teacher conference.
“You called for me, Young Duke?”
“Sit down.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
At Pernoa’s gesture, Carden took a seat on the sofa across from him. The moment they were both seated, two cups of tea were set out.
It looked as though this would be a rather long conversation.
“You already know why I called you here, I imagine?”
When Pernoa asked, Carden smiled pleasantly and acknowledged it.
“It would be about Miss Riersha.”
“That’s right.”
Pernoa confirmed it.
Carden gave a nod and moved into the substance of the conference.
“By all accounts, she’s doing remarkably well. What is it that concerns you?”
“She’s impressive, yes. But for everything she’s managing, she’s still so very young.”
Pernoa said it with a furrowed brow.
Riersha was growing up too fast.
And a child who grows too quickly was rarely a sign of good things.
“At this rate, she’s going to slip completely out of my reach.”
“…Wouldn’t that be something to celebrate?”
“Celebrate?”
“Yes. It’s proof that Miss Riersha is developing well as an Arachrene heir.”
Carden’s answer was, on its face, the correct one.
But Pernoa let out a faint, wry smile — the kind you give someone who simply doesn’t understand.
“You’re right, it’s something to be glad about — proof that she’s growing well.”
“Then what is the problem?”
“You really don’t know anything, do you.”
Pernoa clicked his tongue with something close to pity.
Carden felt quietly stung.
He set down his teacup and began to speak in measured, deliberate tones.
“Young Master Riscal, at that same age, did far more than this. He didn’t merely threaten the rival noble family — he demolished them outright.”
“He did.”
“Young Master Ricador had already personally dismantled every shadow guild operating in the underground, hadn’t he?”
All of it was true.
And Pernoa could recall a time when he had praised each of those children with an earnest “well done.”
“And?”
“…And what of Young Master Risideon? He’s already working alongside you, learning the affairs of the family firsthand.”
Pernoa gave a small nod as if to say, continue.
“Compared to all of them, Miss Riersha’s situation is what interests me. She has been recognized as heir, and yet she has yet to distinguish herself in any clear direction.”
For now, being young shielded her from the sharper criticisms of the retainers. But as one year gave way to the next, even that shield would grow thin.
Pernoa knew this well.
Because he had lived it himself.
“Why not take this opportunity to offer Miss Riersha your full and open support? To give her the space to grow into something greater.”
“Is that your recommendation, as the one entrusted with raising the Arachrene heir?”
“It is. And I believe Miss Riersha would be overjoyed.”
Until now, it had been a matter of simply granting Riersha’s requests when they came. What Carden was suggesting was that Pernoa step forward with an active understanding of what she truly wanted — and stand beside her in it.
If they could help Riersha prove her worth in the same clear, undeniable way as the other heirs, so much the better.
“I know. I know that’s what would make Riersha happiest.”
Pernoa turned to look out the window.
Warm sunlight was pouring down over the garden in golden abundance.
Trusting a child and watching over them from a distance — that was an adult’s role. Offering the right help at the right moment.
Pernoa understood all of this perfectly well.
But the reason it wasn’t so simple was…
“You truly don’t know anything, do you, Carden.”
“…What exactly is it that I don’t know?”
“There’s one thing you’ve overlooked.”
Pernoa let out a quiet, rueful smile.
“I’m just one ordinary father with a daughter in the Declair Empire.”
“…I beg your pardon?”
“Which is why this particular problem is very serious to me.”
For a moment, Carden looked genuinely at a loss.
Who exactly was calling himself an ordinary father?
Ordinary? Where?
Silence settled over the study.
“This is quite the dilemma.”
And Pernoa’s dilemma only grew deeper with each passing day.
