Episode 22
That’s how it was.
“Miss, have you forgotten what day it is today?”
“What is it?”
“Today is that day. You know…”
Before Calyphe went out, Rina had reminded her of this very fact.
“It’s the anniversary of your mother, Lady Fosha Offensa’s passing.”
It was said that until last year, a memorial service had been held. Marquis Offensa had dearly loved his daughter Fosha.
“This time, since the Marquis is critically ill… Viscount Kaiman has decided not to hold the service.”
It was only natural that this news reached Calyphe late. She had always skipped the memorial services and spent her mother’s anniversary alone.
Rynan’s eyes widened.
He knew that Marquis Offensa’s only daughter and heir had died in an accident.
He also knew that her young daughter, who had been in the same accident, was the sole survivor.
But he hadn’t known this.
“…Was the day of the accident also your birthday?”
“Yeah. It was also the day I became a magic misfit.”
Calyphe’s face had already grown drowsy and lethargic.
“And the day my innate magic suddenly disappeared. Birthdays are dreadful.”
“…Then the prayer you just said wasn’t a wish either.”
“A wish?”
Calyphe shrugged her shoulders as if it were a ridiculous notion.
“This cake isn’t mine. It’s for my mother’s memorial altar.”
“…….”
Calyphe blinked heavily, her eyelids drooping.
Her head tilted toward the cake, but Rynan caught her forehead with his hand to stop her.
“Get up.”
“Ugh……”
Calyphe weakly straightened her back and swayed side to side.
Then, suddenly, she leaned her head against Rynan’s chest with a soft thud.
“……!”
Startled, Rynan reflexively pushed her away.
Thud. Calyphe hit the back of her head on the floor and curled up, groaning in pain.
If she were in her right mind, she would have cursed him immediately…
But now, she just looked pitiful.
Rynan clenched and unclenched his fists before letting out a long sigh through his teeth.
“……Why am I like this?”
Since I pushed her, I should at least lay her down properly.
Even as he resolved to do so, he hesitated for a moment.
He was confused about where to touch a sleeping woman—and of all people, Calyphe Offensa! The shock of it left him flustered.
Though he held a knightly title and had served as a member of the knight order, he had never escorted a lady before. This made it all the more difficult for him as a holy knight.
After some time, he finally laid Calyphe down properly, using his leg as a pillow for her head.
Calyphe squirmed slightly.
“Too hard…”
“…Then get up.”
Gritting his teeth, Rynan picked up his outer coat that had fallen on the floor.
Ah. I should have used this as a pillow instead.
As he pondered this belated realization,
Calyphe murmured,
“The way I can make amends is by reclaiming my mother’s position.”
Rynan paused while folding his coat.
“Reclaim it?”
Could it be that her obsession with being the direct heir was for this reason?
“But right now… I don’t feel much desire for it. As long as it’s not Viscount Kaiman… I don’t care who becomes the next Marquis.”
Her hazy red eyes looked up at Rynan.
“Am I an unfilial daughter?”
“…….”
Rynan remained silent.
Her question wasn’t one anyone could answer lightly.
So there was only one thing he could say.
“I’ve seen the child you sponsor.”
“Oh? When did you see them……”
“They were introverted… with shadows in their eyes.”
Just as Calyphe’s face began to darken with gloom,
Rynan continued,
“But when they looked at you… they shone brightly.”
“…….”
“Honestly… I sometimes wonder if they’re being deceived by you.”
As Rynan recalled the child from his memory, his gaze deepened.
“But it seems clear that you make them happy.”
His indifferent eyes looked down at Calyphe.
“So at least to that child… you can be considered a decent guardian. As for whether you’re unfilial or not… figure that out yourself.”
“……Hmph.”
Calyphe, who had been staring at him intently, suddenly turned over on her side.
“I didn’t know silver-hair here could talk so well.”
“Don’t give me ridiculous nicknames on your own.”
“Still… much better than that stuffy Duke Ortega though.”
“……What?”
“That guy’s good-looking but acts like such an old fogy sometimes…”
“Old… fogy?”
“Anyway… that’s not important right now…”
“Not important?”
“Just means my choice wasn’t wrong after all…”
The alcohol still hadn’t worn off completely; their conversation wasn’t making much sense anymore.
After turning around again, Calyphe looked up at the silver-haired man, her tone oddly sharper.
“I’ll save you.”
“Stop talking nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense.”
Calyphe smiled faintly.
Her face, softened by intoxication and drowsiness, glowed.
“It means I’ve taken a liking to you.”
Yawning tiredly, Calyphe finally fell asleep for real this time.
Leaving Rynan frozen, speechless.
“…….”
After staring at Calyphe’s face for a long while, he exhaled deeply and rubbed his face.
She says whatever she wants and then just falls asleep…
She’s truly impossible to handle.
He propped one knee up and rested his elbow on it, gazing at the sky tinged with twilight.
Unlike his uneasy, troubled expression, the view of countless rooftops stretching below remained utterly peaceful.
“Baron Lotten. A letter has arrived from Imperial Hall.”
Dietrich, who had been about to leave the room, replied irritably to the butler.
“I told you to let the old man handle all the letters!”
“B-But this appears to be a coordination document regarding the banquet details. Since you’ve been personally overseeing this event, you should—”
“Then just summarize it! Are you too senile to manage even that? Huh?”
“M-My apologies…!”
The timid butler trembled as Dietrich loomed over him, hunching his tall frame menacingly.
Tch. Dietrich snatched the letter from the butler.
Damn it. The letters keep blurring and overlapping no matter how hard I try to focus. It’s getting worse instead of better.
Whenever reports like this came in, Dietrich would become twice as irritable as usual.
But there was nothing he could do about it.
As a noble, he had to at least pretend to read them to maintain decorum.
With a grimace, Dietrich unfolded the letter.
“...Huh?”
“M-my lord, is there a problem?”
“The contents...”
“Pardon?”
Dietrich’s eyes widened.
‘I can actually read this!?’
The letters, which had previously resembled writhing ciphertext, now lay neatly ordered. He could slowly parse the words and grasp their context.
‘Does this mean I’m recovering?’
It had always felt like wandering through fog when reading, but now the mist was thinning.
Dietrich’s lips twitched before he erupted into laughter.
“Heh! Haha! AHAHAHA!”
After all the agony I’ve endured!
I knew I’d conquer this! I knew this body wouldn’t fail me!
Buoyant with triumph, he clapped the butler’s shoulder.
“You’ve served well, old man. I’ll handle this myself—you’re dismissed.”
“B-but, my lord...?”
“Ha! Look at you—more white hairs since last week. No need to fret. After the banquet, I’ll fund your vacation.”
“Wha—?!”
“Consider it done. You’re excused.”
Leaving the flabbergasted butler behind, Dietrich strode from the room humming.
“I’ll keep improving! At this rate, I’ll be fully cured soon!”
After reviewing the letter, he headed straight to the mansion’s basement.
“Who knew Imperial Hall still had functional beast cages? Perfect.”
Imperial Hall—the centuries-old venue Dietrich had booked for his marriage announcement—was revered among nobles for its opulent grandeur. Rumor held it once hosted popular monster fights, and remnants of that era apparently remained.
“This’ll make the banquet unforgettable.”
The basement housed cloth-draped cages of varying sizes.
Grrrl...
“Hungry, are we?”
At the beast’s growl, Dietrich approached the cage.
CLANG!!
The monster inside hurled itself against the bars.
“Gah!”
Dietrich leapt back, then flushed with embarrassment when he realized no one had witnessed it. He kicked the cage.
“How dare you forget your master?!”
Grrr!
The monster rammed the bars repeatedly, its matted fur briefly revealing thin shackles beneath.
Dietrich smirked.
“Know your place.”
The shackles constricted violently the moment he spoke.
Thud!
The creature collapsed, wheezing through foaming jaws as Dietrich loomed over it, hands in pockets.
“Watch how your dismissed thug becomes your savior, Calipe Oppensa.”
He ached to see that noble—the sole heir of House Oppensa—prostrate himself sooner rather than later.
