Riersha had been born with an unstable flow of mana.
But what if the cause hadn’t been something natural — what if something had been deliberately interfering with the normal flow of her power?
If that were the case, then it seemed as though the recent rampage had destroyed whatever that obstruction was entirely, leaving her mana free to flow without hindrance.
All this time, everyone had assumed it was a side effect of her failing to properly inherit the bloodline…
But what if someone had manufactured the problem — planted it in a child who had none — and let the fallout ripple outward to strike the family itself?
Pernoa’s crimson eyes went cold and still.
“I have no idea who had the audacity to pull something like this.”
A short, humorless laugh escaped him.
Even before the child was born, a rat had slipped its way into this house.
All these years, hiding without ever being caught.
How they must be sweating blood now, hearing that Riersha had awakened.
“Could it be the Imperial family? They’ve always wanted to see the Arachrene house fracture.”
“Most likely. Who else would dare something like this?”
The thought that he had been dancing in someone’s palm so neatly all this time stirred a murderous fury inside him.
But remembering that Riersha was in the room, Pernoa reined in the killing intent before it could rise any further.
“Send word soon. Tell every one of our people wandering outside the estate to come home.”
It was time to fill the Arachrene Duchy’s castle with his own.
⁂
She woke that morning feeling wonderfully refreshed.
Still in her nightgown, hair charmingly disheveled, Riersha settled herself at the writing desk.
“Apolwogy wedder.”
After staring down at the blank sheet of paper for quite a long time, she set her pen down with great seriousness.
“Mm. I dwon’t know how.”
She hadn’t the faintest idea how to write a letter of apology. Pernoa had given it to her as a punishment, so pretending otherwise was simply not an option.
I’ve never written one before. I don’t even know where to start.
She had tried, truly tried, but long minutes passed and the page remained as blank and white as snow.
Riersha felt her palms grow clammy.
…I need to go see Brother Ricador soon, too.
At this rate, would she spend the entire day doing nothing but sitting in front of this desk?
She had been sipping a cold drink through a straw when a particularly large mouthful rushed in all at once, and she let out a light cough.
“Cough!”
“Are you all right? You mustn’t push yourself, Miss. You should lie down at once. I’ll close the window this instant.”
“No! It was just ’cos I dwank too much at once and it went down the wong way! There’s no need to—”
“You shouldn’t be drinking anything this cold right now, either.”
“No, wait—!”
Riersha stretched out her hand helplessly as the glass of cold drink moved beyond her reach.
It seemed the mana rampage had been a far graver matter than she had realized.
Her scheduled lessons were cancelled so she could rest and recover — and Sona’s spectacular era of overprotection officially began.
“I’m fine now, I pwomise…”
Riersha mumbled, fidgeting with the blanket that had been pulled all the way up to her chest.
She cast a longing sideways glance at the confiscated drink, and Sona shook her head with firm, absolute resolve.
“No. The rampage was just yesterday, Miss. This is precisely the time to be careful about even the smallest things. Safety comes first, second, and third.”
“…Okay. But I still haven’t finished the apowogy wedder.”
Riersha murmured, gazing up at the ceiling.
“I’ve neber written one befowe.”
It was true. In the past, Riersha had never even been given the chance to reflect on her mistakes.
Because no one had ever scolded her.
She found herself thinking of the head maid at the outer castle — the one person who had been, in her own way, lenient toward Riersha during those years.
She had believed that woman was someone she could rely on.
But in reality, the head maid was the most indifferent of all.
She had briefly wondered, once, why no one came to find her when the ducal manor was burning.
Now she understood. It was simply because no one had cared enough to think of her.
Perhaps that was why — having lived so thoroughly inside that indifference — Riersha found herself strangely content right now, sitting here fretting over how to write an apology.
So even being scolded takes a kind of love.
Come to think of it, there had been exactly one person in the family who had ever raised their voice at her.
Arcmund Arachrene.
Back then, she had only been desperate to run away from him whenever he thundered at her.
But looking back at those memories now, new truths began to surface that she hadn’t seen before. A peculiar feeling settled over her.
That day when Grandfather shouted at me and ordered me not to leave my room…
She understood now that it had been his way of protecting her.
The Imperial army had been marching toward Arachrene Castle, and he had been trying to move her somewhere safe.
She understood now, too, that he had been forced to make impossible choices because he could not protect her completely.
Now it’s my turn to protect everyone.
She wanted to stop the ruin of this family. She wanted to live happily with all of them.
…But first, she had to deal with this apology letter.
“What am I suppowsed to write?”
In that moment, something sparked in Riersha’s mind and she bolted upright.
“That’s it, that’s it!”
She looked around, grabbed her colored pencils, and sat back down at the desk.
Once the idea struck, everything else followed in a rush.
Sona, watching Riersha throw herself into drawing something with intense concentration, felt her expression shift into something hard to define.
The girl was so clearly absorbed that there was no opening to tell her to go back to bed. Sona drifted over to look.
“Is that… the apology letter?”
“Mm-hm. An apolwogy wedder is supposed to show you’re sowwy, wight?”
“…Yes, and?”
“Daddy and Brother Ricador must have been so wowwied. So I’m going to write one for each of them.”
Sona blinked with an expression caught somewhere between confusion and disbelief.
What Riersha was currently producing was rather far removed from any apology letter Sona had ever been acquainted with.
“Is there anything I can help with, Miss Riersha?”
“Draw here. Make it pwetty. I’ll do the coloring!”
“Of course.”
Riersha pointed to an empty space on the page, and Sona began drawing a small, charming illustration with practiced ease.
Warm sunlight poured through the window beside them.
A little while later, Riersha looked down at the two finished pages and broke into a brilliant smile.
⁂
The moment Riersha stepped into the Young Duke’s wing of the estate, word reached Pernoa.
He had instructed his people to let him know the moment she arrived.
There was only one thing that differed from what he had expected.
“I have returned, Your Grace.”
“So you have. It was a long journey — go rest in your room. Risideon.”
The second person who received the news of Riersha’s arrival was one he hadn’t counted on.
Risideon had arrived before dawn and, the moment day broke, had come to formally announce his return. He glanced briefly at the report Rosinante brought in.
Silver hair neatly arranged. Crimson eyes. Every button of his collar fastened to the very top — it gave him a rather cold impression.
“…Ah. Would you like to see Miss Riersha before you go, Young Master Risideon?”
Rosinante asked with a warm, easy smile.
Risideon’s firmly closed lips parted.
“I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“…I see.”
Rosinante blinked, caught off guard.
Risideon, his expression perfectly and utterly blank, turned to leave the study.
He had just reached the door and was closing his hand around the handle when something made him pause.
His hand hesitated.
His red eyes drifted slowly downward.
Riersha, who had been about to push the door open from the other side, froze at the sight of something directly in front of her face.
“Oh!”
“…”
“Huh?”
Riersha, finding herself face to face with Risideon, stared up at him with wide eyes that said she recognized him somehow.
For a few silent seconds, the two simply looked at each other.
“Then I’ll take my leave.”
Risideon addressed Pernoa without turning his gaze, and then passed Riersha as if she weren’t there.
Riersha’s round eyes followed him as he went.
“That is Young Master Risideon. I imagine this is the first time you’ve met him, Miss?”
“…Yes.”
Riersha answered, craning her neck to peer around the corner of the corridor after him.
Then she tilted her head to one side, curious.
“Riersha. Did you bring a proper apology letter?”
“Oh!”
Riersha turned at Pernoa’s voice and beamed at him with the most unclouded smile.
“I bwought it!”
She pattered all the way across the room to the desk where Pernoa sat, rose up onto her tiptoes, and waved the paper in her hand back and forth with cheerful little flicks of her wrist.
