Riersha’s mood was low the entire way back to the castle.
To think that Ian Charlotte was truly the Crown Prince’s biological father.
It was such an enormous revelation that even after confirming it with her own eyes, she still couldn’t quite bring herself to believe it.
She pinched her left cheek.
Pain bloomed at the spot. Riersha quickly pressed her palm against her cheek and rubbed it.
She could feel Oberon watching her from the side.
She looked away and pretended nothing had happened. After a moment, Oberon’s gaze — which had been boring into her cheek with enough intensity to make it sting — finally withdrew.
“What will you do now?” he asked instead.
“…Mm, I think I need to tell Daddy.”
“He likely already knows.”
“Yeah.”
He’d heard about the dark magic’s purpose just yesterday, so Pernoa would have pieced it together long before now.
Should I let Isierd know as well?
By now, Isierd would be wrestling with conflicted feelings about returning to the Imperial Palace.
Risideon would surely look after him well, but still — the thought lingered.
The Imperial Palace was a colder, more dangerous place than anywhere else in the world.
And yet, now that they knew the Crown Prince’s bloodline was illegitimate…
This might actually end more cleanly than I expected.
As long as nothing unexpected arose, Isierd’s path to the crown should be smooth.
That was a relief.
“Right! Then let’s feed Yong-yong first!”
She decided she could tell Isierd on the day of the trial. There was no reason to visit him now and leave him unsettled.
The matter of the Crown Prince’s bloodline was certainly good news for Isierd — but it wasn’t the kind of thing one could simply rejoice over without complication.
“Yes, I’ll escort you,” Oberon said with a nod.
“Ah, and… regarding the task you assigned me.”
“Mm. How is Sonnet doing?”
Riersha’s eyes brightened.
Oberon’s expression turned reluctant, and after a beat of dissatisfied silence, he forced himself to continue. His displeasure was visible at a glance.
“…It’s gotten a bit out of hand. Apparently, just recently, she caused a scene in the streets carrying a liquor bottle.”
“Really?”
“She was hauled off by the city guard and locked in a holding cell. I went to… retrieve her.”
Oberon weighed his words carefully, but in the end found nothing satisfactory and settled for a slight furrow of his brow.
It sounds like he’s leaving something out.
Then again, in all the work Oberon had done over the years, being sent to a city guard’s holding cell was probably not something he’d ever anticipated. And to bring back Sonnet, of all people — thoroughly pickled in alcohol.
“The Kineart Ducal House will no doubt be confident they’ll win this trial. From the outside, it must look as though Miss Sonnet has been cast aside entirely.”
“Mm. That’s good to hear.”
Riersha thought back to the day Sonnet had come to her, holding the letter of complaint she’d received from the Duke of Kineart.
That day, Riersha had given a very quiet, very particular set of instructions.
“From now on, Sonnet is to be someone who’s been thrown away.”
“…Pardon? What do you mean, thrown away? Me?”
“It’s too much trouble to get into open conflict with the Kineart Ducal House, so — you were abandoned by me.”
“Oh.”
“Can you do it?”
The instruction had been simple: fall apart visibly enough that anyone watching would think it was too much.
And Sonnet had replied —
“Yes. I understand exactly what you mean.”
— and then proceeded to throw herself into the role with perhaps a touch more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary.
Riersha was beginning to wonder if Sonnet was actually enjoying herself.
The reason behind the instruction was straightforward enough.
For the Duke of Kineart to let his guard down and truly believe the odds were in his favor — that was what she needed.
A Duke who felt unthreatened would come to the trial completely unprepared. And when Isierd walked into that courtroom, there would be nothing the Duke could do.
There was one more piece Riersha intended to set in motion on the day of the trial — a witness she planned to request.
Namely —
The Emperor.
She wasn’t entirely sure whether the Emperor would agree to the request. But —
He’ll have no choice but to come.
This trial would draw enormous public attention. The Emperor would inevitably have to be present.
That was Riersha’s ultimate goal.
To maneuver things so that the Emperor himself — with his own lips — had no choice but to acknowledge Isierd’s existence.
That aside, though…
Riersha muttered under her breath.
“This month’s bill is going to be enormous.”
“Indeed. She has been exclusively drinking top-shelf spirits. The food she orders alongside them is equally extravagant. …And she summons a high-end carriage home in the early hours of the morning.”
“…”
“Three days until the trial. I am grateful for that.”
“…Yeah.”
…Well. It made sense.
Sonnet was playing an enormous role, entirely out of sight. Thanks to her, Riersha hadn’t needed to expend much effort on trial preparations at all.
She’d already heard that the Kineart Ducal House had placed people to watch the Arachrene family’s movements, keeping tabs through the Kadimo Troupe and Sonnet alike.
Riersha had instructed Johannes in advance: unless something genuinely suspicious emerged, make no effort to shake those tails.
“…What’s the Kadimo Troupe up to these days? They’re in the middle of their performance hiatus, aren’t they?”
“The troupe has sent several letters inquiring about how the trial is progressing. …It seems Miss Sonnet has been keeping the secret remarkably well.”
“…Phew. It’s time to let them know. Tell them there’s nothing to worry about.”
With only three days left, it was past the point where the Duke of Kineart could course-correct even if he realized he’d been completely deceived.
On top of that, the Duke was surely beginning to sense that the Duke of Willias was behaving strangely —
“It would be good to remind the Duke of Willias as well. Tell him not to let slip that he’s agreed not to help the Duke of Kineart — not until the day of the trial.”
He needed to keep the Duke of Kineart convinced that Willias was still in his corner.
“Yes, I’ll pass that along.”
“Oh, and — I heard that Aska came to my castle and was turned away.”
“…”
Oberon flinched slightly.
He had, after all, sent away a visitor who had come to see Riersha without permission. By any measure, that was overstepping.
“Good.”
“…Pardon?”
“Phew. Please keep doing that for a while.”
“…”
“And you can tell Johannes he’s free to return now.”
There was no reason for now to expect the Kadimo Troupe to put on any more dangerous performances for the foreseeable future.
Oberon blinked for a moment, then nodded.
“Yes, understood.”
By the time they finished their long conversation, Riersha found that she had already arrived at her own castle.
The thought of Yong-yong waiting inside made her steps quicken without thinking.
She dashed up the steps and had just reached her bedroom door when she heard something come pattering toward her in a rapid, small-footed rush from within.
Then — bang! The door flew open, and Yong-yong tumbled out.
“Yong-yong!”
“Kyuuuuuu!”
Yong-yong let out a pitiful, whimpering cry and flung both arms wide, barreling straight into Riersha’s embrace.
Riersha’s expression went still. She immediately swept her gaze around the corridor.
“Who is it. Who was bothering my Yong-yong.”
“Kyuung, kyuung. Kyuuuung…”
Grumble.
A loud, resonant gurgling sound came from Yong-yong’s belly. Riersha tilted her head.
“Wait — nothing happened to you? You’re just hungry?”
Yong-yong shook their head emphatically, looking utterly aggrieved.
“Kyuuung!”
“…Then what?”
From behind her, Oberon offered an explanation.
“Magic dragons do not experience hunger, Miss Riersha. The only time they feel something akin to it is when their magical reserves run low.”
Riersha immediately began looking Yong-yong over in earnest.
That meant Yong-yong’s once-abundant magical energy had somehow been depleted.
Now that she looked more closely — Yong-yong’s ears were drooping, and their tail had gone limp.
“Where’s Torna? I don’t see her.”
At Riersha’s question, the maid who had been standing at the door wringing her hands in distress spoke up with a miserable expression.
“…Well, you see — Yong-yong snuck off and ate all the meat while no one was looking, so Lady Sona stepped out briefly to deal with it, and then…”
“And then?”
Both Riersha and Oberon turned to look at the maid at the same time.
“…The Tower Master chose that exact moment to arrive.”
“The Tower Master?”
“Yes. We kept telling him that Miss Riersha wasn’t in and he should leave, but no matter how many times we said it…”
Riersha stepped into the room.
There, surrounded by a ring of knights, stood the Tower Master.
It appeared to be a standoff — no one moving, no one backing down.
Given who he was, the knights had clearly found it difficult to lay hands on him outright.
“Everyone, step out.”
“…We apologize, Miss Riersha.”
“No need. You all did your best.”
They had held their ground against the Tower Master while doing everything they could to prevent any incident that might reflect poorly on the Arachrene family. That was enough.
The moment the knights withdrew, Sion Senuart pressed a hand to his chest and exhaled with theatrical relief.
“Whew, I thought I was in real trouble.”
“What brings you to my castle?”
“Ha, I had business with our young lady.”
“The time you arranged to meet with my father is this evening.”
“That’s the appointment I made with the Young Duke.”
With the Young Duke.
Which meant —
“I want to make a deal with our young lady separately — not through the Young Duke.”
Sion Senuart smiled, the curve of his lips carrying a weight of implication.
