Chapter 38
Kalife paused and looked at Rynen with eyes full of betrayal. Despite her fierce gaze, Rynen’s expression remained calm.
As expected of Duke Ortega!
The vassals sighed in relief. If it were Duke Ortega, he wouldn’t falter even under Kalife’s terrifying glare or clenched fists. Just look at him now.
“Are you stopping me right now?”
“Yes. Excessive excitement will only harm your body.”
“But…!”
Ignoring Kalife’s menacing aura, Rynen elegantly tilted the teapot to fill a cup. Then, with unwavering dignity:
“Drink water while you speak.”
He handed the cup to Kalife.
Huh? To the young lady?
The vassals who had trusted the duke widened their eyes. To their astonishment, Rynen now wore a smile as warm as ice melting in spring breeze.
“Excitement harms the body. Pace yourself.”
“……!”
The vassals’ jaws dropped. Kalife was equally flustered.
Wh-Why is he suddenly smiling like a blooming flower? Ah, don’t tell me—
“You haven’t forgotten the three guidelines for loving couples, have you?”
“Smile for them, worry for them, cheer for them.”
Is he executing the first guideline—smiling for me—right now?
At this timing?!
It seemed unbelievable, but Rynen’s persistent grin confirmed it.
“…….”
“Kalife?”
Gasp. I’ve been staring without realizing.
Get a grip!
She forced herself to play along.
“Th-Thanks. I was just thirsty.”
Kalife reached for the cup—or tried to. Rynen retracted it upon noticing her trembling hands from earlier exertion.
“Why are you taking it back… Ugh.”
Rynen cupped Kalife’s chin and cheeks with one hand, tilting the cup to her lips himself.
“Let me feed you. Open up.”
“Mmf—gulp… Pfft!”
Kalife choked, spraying water across Rynen’s sculpted face.
“…….”
The vassals flinched.
First he’s accused of being bewitched by her beauty, now this disrespect! Now the duke will surely rage!
But their expectations shattered.
“Cough! Hack!”
“Kalife! Are you alright?!”
Rynen ignored his own drenched state to pat her back urgently.
“Why are you coughing? Where does it hurt?”
“It’s your fault—cough!”
Kalife’s coughing fit worsened. Wide-eyed, Rynen barked at the vassals:
“Kalife is unwell! Summon a healer. Now!”
This was the second guideline: worry for them.
The vassals stammered, “A healer for a mere cough…?”
“Can’t you see her flushed face and tear-filled eyes? Of course she needs examination!”
When even the normally composed Duke Ortega showed hints of anger, the vassals felt genuinely guilty.
“Enough… Stop. Cough.”
Kalife weakly grabbed Rynen’s collar. He gentled his touch, soothingly rubbing her back.
“Your frail health worries me endlessly. Should you abandon swordsmanship for healing arts? Or shall I carry you everywhere?”
“…….”
Silence blanketed the conference hall. The vassals stared at the pair as if witnessing twin cockroaches.
They… might actually be real lovers.
That tactless bastard’s sincerity is genuine. These two are the real deal.
The operation had succeeded—though perhaps too well, given Kalife’s humiliation.
Enough! Let’s stop before he enacts the third guideline!
Kalife loudly cleared her throat to shift momentum, aiming to conclude the marriage discussion.
“We’ve strayed off-topic. Regardless, my spouse will be Duke Ortega, not Baron Lorton. Any objections?”
Her glare promised death to dissenters. As the room quieted, she continued:
“The wedding is next spring. Until then, Rynen will reside in my annex to prepare. Understood?”
“More childish remarks, I see.”
Kaeman Sous-Marquis, who had stayed silent until now, stood.
“The future Duchess Ortega lingering at Marquis Ophensa’s estate? You should hasten to the ducal household to learn domestic affairs. You’re no longer a naive lady.”
As Kalife opened her mouth to retort, Rynen raised a hand to stop her. His voice remained calm yet firm:
“The proposal was mine. I will stay at Marquis Ophensa’s residence with Kalife until the wedding.”
“…Why, Your Grace?”
“Because Kalife’s maternal grandfather, Marquis Graham Ophensa, resides nearby.”
Kalife turned to him in surprise.
“Having decided to marry Kalife, I’m now part of the marquis’ family. Would it be right to create distance before even greeting him?”
“…….”
“Nor do I wish to deprive Marquis Ophensa of his last remaining family.”
All attendees now hung on Rynen’s words.
“Thus, I will support whatever decision she makes.”
The third guideline: cheer for them.
The vassals inwardly marveled. Duke Ortega was exceptional in both status and character.
“Then we shall annul the engagement with Baron Lorton and proceed with Duke Ortega’s house,” declared the chairman.
Though the marriage matter concluded, Kalife remained tense.
Now.
After several agenda items passed:
“The final item.”
The succession issue for Marquis Ophensa’s sous-marquis title was raised.
My turn to overturn things.
In a place seldom tread by humans,
a magic tower loomed like a watchtower among nature warped by experiments and enigmatic sculptures.
Though its top floor—reserved for the tower master and deputy—was typically quiet,
today it echoed with chaos under Deputy Tower Master Marcel’s lead.
“Where is it? Search faster! The grand meeting will end soon!”
“Ack—the book pile’s collapsing!”
“Gods, that’s a living book! Catch it before it escapes!”
Marcel, usually prim, now frantically rummaged through storage rooms.
“Not in Warehouse 3 either! Where did they stash it?!”
“Deputy, why not take this ‘Adequately Functional Mana Detector’?”
“No! I need the Precision Mana Analyzer that detects sealed and latent energies!”
“Frankly, if you need that tool, doesn’t it mean the subject lacks talent…?”
The mages grumbled but kept searching—defying the half-elf deputy meant enduring his petty grudges for days.
After much dusty effort:
“Found it!”
Marcel clutched the coveted device.
“Ah, thank Salictum!”
After praising the elven deity, Marcel sprinted to the teleportation circle linking to Ophensa Manor.
The mana I sensed from that dismissed swordsmanship instructor, the top-grade potion she activated… I’m certain!
The young lady has potential to become Ophensa’s head! This device will prove it.
…Even if she strictly forbade attending the meeting!
Though failure would ruin Kalife’s plans, mages never ignored provable hypotheses. Besides, Marcel’s true master wasn’t Kalife—he owed no obedience.
“Teleport!”
He activated the circle without hesitation.
