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Chapter 9
Even I thought my words were irritating, but Ezekiel only replied with an expression so indifferent not a single eyebrow moved.
“You should stop speaking so rudely. There is a high possibility I will be the one raising you, just as your mother requested.”
“….”
Struck right in the weak point, my face twisted hard.
Ugh.
Who I would grow up under—this wasn’t even something I wanted to discuss.
No matter what, it’s not him.
Ezekiel had played a decisive role in branding me a traitor who touched the Holy Grail without even hearing my circumstances. And the Ricard estate had been the prison where I was born and raised.
Horrible.
I would rather cut off my own ankles than step back into that place on my own two feet.
…To be more honest, I had even considered ending my life cleanly before it came to that.
But it’s Mom’s will.
And not just any will—it was a Sol-Pharis Oath, the kind used only when naming heirs in preparation for the Emperor’s sudden death.
An ancient magic created by high-ranking mages with immense willpower, leaving behind the caster’s intent while they were still alive.
In this age, where the golden era of magic had long passed, such a thing was nearly impossible to create.
A “wind oath that fulfills the wishes of the dead”—that was another name for it, though it was closer to legend now. In practice, it functioned like an unalterable will.
And yet it was absurdly difficult and absurdly expensive to make.
My mother, who hated inefficiency and avoided giving orders whenever possible, had a personality that made such a thing completely unlike her.
And yet this complicated, expensive will mentioned my name forty-nine times.
Every clause, condition, and restriction existed solely to protect me.
So if I think about it…
Even though I hated it enough to die from it, I still couldn’t bring myself to say, “Then I’ll die and go follow Mom instead of going with you.”
I’m doomed.
I’m doomed. Totally doomed.
Suppressing the urge to stomp my feet and scream, I turned my back on Ezekiel again and lay sideways. Then I buried my face in a soft northern plush toy—my “Morokostbalt” doll—and bit into it angrily.
“I’ve been wondering,” he said.
“Not interested.”
“What exactly is that doll supposed to be? I’m not even sure it qualifies as a doll.”
“Don’t talk about Moromoro like that.”
“Most children carry teddy bears or something rounder than that.”
Crunch crunch.
What does he want from me?
Instead of answering, I kept biting down on Morokostbalt—Moromoro’s soft but firm fur—curling up tighter. It was my silent way of telling him to stop talking.
“I have no real interest, but that doll looks quite unusual.”
Then be quiet and leave me alone.
Wasn’t he supposed to be a taciturn type? Even if time changed people, I glared at him with full suspicion and annoyance.
“Your glare is rather ill-mannered. What now?”
“Everything! I hate everything!”
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I sat up sharply and glared straight at him.
“Why are you bothering me so much?”
“What?”
“You’ve been told repeatedly that I don’t like it. Do you think I’m just a baby, so you can ignore me saying no?”
“I—”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
I cut him off coldly and sneered as nastily as I could.
“Don’t tell me you’re trying to play father now?”
“….”
His straight eyebrows twitched slightly. Not anger—more like the reaction of someone who just got a paper cut.
Still, I continued.
“Go play with your real child at home. Leave me like I was before.”
“…There is no other child at home.”
So what? I almost scoffed.
“Then go make one.”
“That is not possible. I have never been married. Therefore, there is no lady of the house in the current Ricard Duchy.”
“What?”
I hadn’t even meant to respond, but it was too absurd to ignore.
I looked at him.
At a man who looked at least ten years older than when I died. So he was probably over thirty now…
And he never married? Even though he had an engagement? And he’s a duke?
This wasn’t just about inheritance. This was the greatest noble house in the empire.
The Ricards were known for powerful magic passed down through bloodline. The first duke had been one of the empire’s founding heroes because of it.
And now the last direct heir… wasn’t married?
With the empire constantly fighting erosion and monsters, maintaining a balance that could collapse at any moment?
No one would have just accepted that.
The emperor would’ve grabbed him by the collar at least once—no, more like ten times.
I summed up my thoughts bluntly.
“…You really look like an old man.”
Ezekiel’s brow twitched slightly, but instead of scolding me again, he added:
“That is not a lie. I have no hobby of telling lies that will be exposed immediately. Especially not to a child like you. It would be pointless.”
“….”
Well, that did make sense…
I shook my head before I could overthink it.
It didn’t matter whether the Duke of Ricard was married or not. Whether he had children or even thirty illegitimate ones.
He wasn’t my brother. He wasn’t even someone I wanted to call family anymore.
My anger cooled quickly.
Seeing me fall silent, Ezekiel spoke again.
“If you have something to say, don’t hold it in. Ask what you want.”
“…Something I want to say?”
I curled my lips into a blatantly mocking smile and looked straight into his blue eyes.
Deep, cold, just like in my memories—but my own eyes were different now.
Warm light-green gold, like my mother’s.
I wasn’t Beatrice anymore.
“You’re really stupid, aren’t you? I’ve been saying what I want from the beginning. Whether you allow it or not.”
“So I already told you—I don’t feel like talking to you.”
“….”
“So please be quiet. That’s not a difficult request, is it?”
I narrowed my eyes deliberately.
“Or is even that too hard for you?”
