“There we are, Miss Riersha. You may go down now.”
“Mm-hm, thank you!”
When Riersha smiled and thanked the maids after they finished dressing her, they exchanged uncertain glances, clearly caught off guard.
The most senior-looking among them stepped forward with a gentle smile.
“Please, Miss. We were only doing our duty. You mustn’t offer thanks for such things in the future.”
“But why not?”
“Well, that’s because…”
The question hung in the air. What had seemed so obvious suddenly had no easy answer, and the maid faltered, momentarily at a loss for words.
“I want you to do my hair like this again next time. I really like it.”
Riersha took Sona’s hand and gave the maids a small wave.
“Shall we go, Miss Riersha?”
“Mm.”
As they stepped out of the room, Riersha gripped Sona’s hand tightly. Her face was etched with tension.
What should I say when I meet Grandfather?
Riersha was still living in the outer estate, but once the audience was over — provided it went well — she would officially be granted a new castle within the heir’s domain.
But that was only possible if the meeting ended on a favorable note.
She had to win her grandfather’s heart, one way or another.
Riersha squeezed Sona’s hand, and Sona squeezed right back.
“You can do this, Miss Riersha. Just do exactly what we practiced together.”
“Mm.”
They had been secretly training for this day, stealing moments whenever they could. Since Riersha knew almost nothing about noble etiquette, Sona had given her a crash course in formal greetings and proper conduct.
Riersha ran through the steps in her mind, visualizing each movement.
Alright. I can do this!
Before long, the two of them passed through the entrance to the main castle.
At the gate stood a sculpture of the two-headed dragon that served as the symbol of House Arachrene — its twin jaws parted mid-roar. Behind it rose the grand and imposing Arachrene Ducal Castle.
They passed through the rows of knights standing at strict attention, and then the scenery opened up into something breathtaking.
“Wow.”
A wide, shimmering lake. A bridge that arched gracefully over its surface.
Beneath the sunlight, koi fish surfaced and vanished in golden flashes, weaving through the reflections of beautiful plants arranged along the banks.
Riersha had been drinking in the garden in a quiet daze when she spotted a silhouette she could never, in any lifetime, forget.
Her body went rigid.
“Welcome, Miss Riersha. I have come to escort you.”
It was Oberon.
Every hair on Riersha’s body stood on end.
He looked far younger than the face burned into her memory — but it was unmistakably the same man.
Sharp, intelligent features. A short, clean-cut hairstyle. Oberon pressed his left hand over his heart and inclined his head in a courteous bow.
“I will guide you from here.”
It meant Sona could go no further.
Riersha hesitated, feet dragging. Sona crouched down to meet her eyes.
“Miss Riersha. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”
“…”
“You can do well in there, can’t you?”
“…Yes.”
Riersha was frightened, but she nodded at last.
Oberon is still Grandfather’s man. Nothing has happened yet. Nothing.
Carefully, she released Sona’s hand.
Then, turning over in her mind how she might quietly test what lay beneath Oberon’s composed surface, she stepped toward him.
Her palms were already damp with cold sweat.
“This way, if you please.”
“Okay.”
Oberon was one of the most influential figures in House Arachrene. There was nothing to be gained by getting on his bad side.
With the look of someone who had made up their mind, Riersha fixed her eyes on him — and then reached out and grabbed his hand.
“Oh my!”
The startled sound came from Sona.
At the same moment, Oberon’s flat, expressionless eyes went wide as Riersha’s small fingers closed around his hand.
Unfortunately, Riersha didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to notice.
“I’ll be back, Sona.”
“Yes, Miss! Take care!”
Riersha nodded at Sona’s send-off and gave a little wave.
“…Let us go.”
Oberon spoke quietly.
Riersha marched forward, legs moving with purpose — one hand wrapped firmly around Oberon’s stiffly curled fingers.
Behind them, the heavy castle gate swung shut with a resonant thud.
⁂
When did Oberon first begin to turn?
Riersha stared openly at his face.
His blank expression gave nothing away.
If I was the problem, he could have just dealt with me. So why did he raise his sword against everyone?
The logic behind Oberon’s decision — to turn not only against Riersha but against the entire household — still made no sense to her.
She was deep in thought as they walked down the long corridor when, in the silence, Oberon spoke.
“Is there something you wished to say to me?”
“Huh?”
Riersha startled.
She must have been staring too obviously. Oberon had noticed, and at some point he had turned to look down at her.
Riersha made a snap decision and launched straight into a greeting.
“I didn’t get to say hello properly before. Hello.”
“…Hello.”
“I’m Riersha.”
The out-of-nowhere introduction earned a slightly delayed response. Oberon’s silver-grey eyes drifted sideways, flickering through the air as though searching for the right words.
He was still young, and it seemed he had no particular immunity to small children.
Well, that works in my favor.
Riersha felt a quiet relief. This was not the Oberon of six years from now. This was a greener, less certain version of him — and that made him easier to face.
“…I am Oberon.”
He returned the introduction with the same formality.
Riersha’s eyes widened slightly.
He’s kinder than I expected.
What on earth was going to happen to this family — that it could reduce someone like him to what she remembered?
“Oberon.”
“Yes, Miss Riersha.”
“I awakened.”
“My sincere congratulations.”
Oberon turned back to face forward as he answered.
Riersha thought, oddly enough, that she was glad for that.
Because she didn’t have the nerve to look him in the eye while telegraphing I know what you’re going to do.
Even now, her heart was thudding.
“Now Papa can come home too.”
This was the part she had truly wanted to say.
She hoped, desperately, that hearing these words might change something — that somewhere down the line, Oberon might choose a different path.
“So Oberon can stay by Grandfather’s side. For always.”
She worried he might have already begun to turn against the family in his heart. She waited, strung tight, for his reply.
Then Oberon’s head slowly turned toward her.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Whatever you’re worried about — it doesn’t have to happen.”
“…”
“The ducal castle will be all right. If Oberon helps.”
Something in Riersha’s words — the certainty of it, the knowing — made Oberon’s eyes go wide with a surprise he couldn’t quite suppress.
For the first time, a ripple broke across his expressionless face.
But nowhere in that expression was there anything like guilt. Nothing that said I’ve been found out.
What? Is it possible he hasn’t decided to betray us yet?
And yet his reaction was far too layered for that to be the whole truth.
After a pause, Oberon opened his mouth.
“Miss Riersha, might you perhaps—”
“Oh! We’re here!”
The moment he began to ask, Riersha released his hand and cried out.
I can’t let him press further. I was just taking a guess — I don’t actually know the details.
And besides, there was no reasonable way she could know any of this. Acting like she had inside knowledge would only seem suspicious.
Either way, based on Oberon’s reaction, I can tell the family is already in some kind of danger. Even now.
So it hadn’t collapsed overnight. Whatever was coming had been building for a very long time.
Riersha smiled — wide, bright, and perfectly innocent — and turned toward the door of the Duke’s study.
⁂
The study of Arachrene Ducal Castle.
Inside, a silver-haired man with crimson eyes sat behind a grand desk — aged, but carrying the weight of his years with unmistakable authority.
“The child has awakened, you say?”
“Yes, my lord. Lord Rosinante confirmed it personally.”
The eyes of Arcmund, Duke of Arachrene, narrowed with quiet suspicion.
The timing was absurdly, almost suspiciously perfect.
If Riersha had failed to awaken before the year’s end, she was to be struck from the family register. That was the deadline Arcmund had set in agreement with his retainers.
“And the possibility that it’s a fabrication?”
“None, my lord.”
“What if Pernoa arranged it?”
“Something like that would be exposed almost immediately.”
Even with the news of his granddaughter’s awakening, Arcmund could not bring himself to celebrate.
Suspicion.
The situation aligned too neatly, too conveniently — and that very perfection only made him more wary.
“Well then. I shall simply see the child for myself.”
She had apparently spent two full days bedridden after the awakening’s aftermath.
He intended to see with his own eyes just how formidable the abilities were — the ones that had driven her own father out of the family’s reach.
Whether that child’s power becomes an asset to this house or a liability — I’ll know once I’ve seen her.
He had sent Oberon. The girl would arrive soon.
