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Chapter 17
A child’s shrill voice drew everyone’s attention.
The duke’s eyes were no exception. But in his gaze, I could clearly read the murderous look that screamed, “If you do something unnecessary, I’ll throw you out.”
Calm down! I’m doing this for both of us!
“Father, there’s something on my shoulder! Please get it off!”
“…A bug?”
“Yes!”
I teared up and stretched out my right shoulder. A pincer bug I had picked up earlier from the underbrush dangled there.
“Father, please! If you don’t, it might bite me!”
“…Fine.”
With a sound of exasperation rolling from his lips, he grabbed the bug with his large hand and flung it into the grass. I kept my eyes tightly shut and only spoke once I heard the rustling sound.
“Is it gone?”
“It’s gone.”
“Phew… Wow, it’s really gone. Thank you, Father!”
I bowed deeply to the duke.
At that moment, soft laughter spread among the crowd. The blade-sharp tension that usually surrounded the duke seemed to lift. A distinguished-looking elderly man chuckled as he spoke to the duke.
“You’ve become the gallant knight every little lady dreams of.”
“…Sir Laphrand, you’re here.”
“How could I not come when Marquis Godel is uncorking an 877 Lifram wine? And I got to meet this little lady too—what a treat.”
The old man smiled warmly at me. I cautiously bowed my head.
“Hello, I’m Sol Schleiger.”
“Yes, yes. I’m Marquis Laphrand. But you can just call me Grandpa.”
Laphrand? Who’s that again? Either way, I wasn’t foolish enough to actually call him Grandpa.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Sir Laphrand.”
“Hoho, no need to be so formal. You should come visit my estate someday. I have a grandchild your age.”
“Thank you for the invitation! I’d love to come!”
“So polite and adorable. Duke Schleiger, how did you end up with such a blessing? Be sure to let me see her now and then.”
Huh. Looks like the duke actually has some decent connections. Didn’t expect that.
After a brief farewell, Laphrand left. Once the old man disappeared from view—
I almost had a heart attack when I looked beside me. The duke was glaring daggers at me, practically oozing menace.
Gah!
“Sol. What did I tell you?”
“…If asked about food and shelter, respond that I’m satisfied. Call Your Grace ‘Father.’ Remain as quiet as possible.”
“And you’ve violated the most important rule. What were you thinking? Drawing attention, shouting like that for help—how undignified. Even if you didn’t attach the bug on purpose—”
“Oh, I did do it on purpose.”
“…What?”
His ocean-blue eyes wavered with disbelief. I quickly explained myself.
“Let’s go back to basics, Your Grace. When you said earlier that you adopted me to honor your wife’s dying wish—did you really think people would believe that?”
“If they value their lives, they’d better believe it.”
“Please, calm down. I’ve been observing reactions in the courtyard. No one believes it. They think you don’t care about children and that you’ve got some hidden agenda.”
“People always talk behind others’ backs. As long as you have power, you don’t need to concern yourself.”
“But if you use your brain, you don’t have to rely solely on power!”
“….”
His eyes sharpened. Okay, I probably shouldn’t have said that.
Still, if I do nothing, I’m dead anyway. I’m going to say what I need to say!
“Anyway! You said it yourself outside the clothing store. That you wished people would lower their guard.”
“I did.”
“But just showing that I’m well-fed and clothed isn’t enough. I’m not livestock, am I? What people need to see is that I rely on you!”
“So your grand idea was to stick a bug on your shoulder?”
“Yes.”
“…”
“Didn’t that old man seem to look at us favorably afterward?”
“Old man…?”
The duke pressed his forehead and let out a long sigh. Hey, at least I didn’t call him geezer.
“He may be informal, but that doesn’t mean you should be.”
“You know him personally?”
“He sponsored my wife, Iren, when she was young. But that’s in the past. Keep a respectful distance from everyone.”
“Of course. I want to maintain a respectful distance from you too, Your Grace.”
“…Start by maintaining your dignity. The rest… I’ll consider based on your behavior.”
Oh? Is he actually starting to listen to me? His face did seem to soften a bit when I mentioned that old man earlier.
“What are you staring at?”
“Nothing.”
“Dinner will start late. If you want anything else to eat, now’s the time to move.”
“Okay!”
I hadn’t been able to try everything earlier because of the whole bug act!
As I eagerly stood to head for the buffet table, a sudden question struck me.
“By the way, Your Grace, what should a lady actually do if a real bug lands on her shoulder?”
“Don’t let bugs land on you. Avoid bushes. Don’t wander around in summer.”
Shouldn’t have asked.
Tonight, I pray a giant spider kisses the duke.
“Yes, Father.”
Calling him Father one last time, I made my way back to the finger foods.
Rattiger sometimes saw the world in shades of gray.
The day he inherited the Schleiger family’s Silver Dragon power, his black hair turned silver, and his blue-glass irises began to ripple like waves.
Eyes that could perceive the magic within the world. With them, he could locate mana pearl-rich lands and identify people with rare talents.
A power that promised the eternal prosperity of the Schleiger line.
But this power robbed Rattiger of interest in anything deemed “useless.” Most humans, common gold and silver—they were no more than dust to him.
The girl named Sol, whom he recently picked up from a northern orphanage, was the same. Black hair like his sons, amber eyes, perhaps?
Well, the color of a tool doesn’t matter. For now, she was a tool to fulfill his wife’s final wish. Perhaps she’d become useful someday.
But when that girl offered him a sea-colored gift, it was as if a single drop of strange-colored ink fell into the calm ocean of his heart.
Just a drop—it would disappear soon enough.
But when she ran up to him at the banquet, pretending to be in distress—
“Faaather, help meee!”
At first, it was just annoying. But when she shoved her right shoulder toward him, saying—
“Get it off, please! It might take a bite out of me!”
Rattiger felt as if a tiny bolt of lightning had struck him.
At the time, he chalked it up to absurdity. But after Sol left to gather more food for a second round, he finally realized what that strange feeling was.
“Dear, quick—get it off! It might take a bite out of me!”
That’s what his wife, Iren, used to say when a bug landed on her.
Not “I might get bitten,” but “It might take a bite out of me.” He never imagined anyone else would use such a ridiculous phrase.
…Would our daughter have turned out like that if Iren had given birth to one?
Rattiger suddenly understood why he’d been treating Sol—by his standards—somewhat gently.
But he quickly shook his head to dismiss the thought. That foolish fantasy wasn’t important.
“She stuck that bug on herself on purpose—that was surprising.”
She said she wanted to show people that a daughter was depending on her father. Immature as it was, it surprisingly worked.
After Sol left for her second plate, Rattiger kept an eye on her, watching for any hyena-like nobles who might try to extract information about the ducal family.
But unexpectedly, the crowd treated Sol warmly.
When she struggled to reach something, someone handed it to her. When a leaf fell on her head, someone brushed it off without hesitation.
They cared for her as if she were a child of the community.
He remembered when they first arrived at the marquis’ estate—most people had looked at Sol coldly, or with pity, as though she were doomed.
“Could peeling off a single bug really have changed their view of her that much?”
It was irrational, even hard to believe. But Rattiger wasn’t so stubborn as to reject results.
When Sol finally returned from her food hunt, he immediately glanced at her shoulder. She blushed.
“That was a one-time thing! I won’t do it again.”
“Understood. But I’ve thought about the question you asked earlier.”
“Question? …Oh, what a lady should do if a bug lands on her?”
“Yes.”
There was only one answer he could give.
“If a bug lands on you again, come to me. I’ll remove it.”
The small courtyard banquet ended before sunset. There wasn’t even any fancy food—what kind of noble party is this?
…Or so I thought, until the duke dropped a bomb.
“Get some rest. You’ll be busy once evening comes.”
“Huh? The banquet isn’t over? When are we going back to the duchy?”
“Did you seriously think we were returning today?”
“…Aren’t we?”
The duke looked at me like I was completely hopeless.
“No one travels to another territory just for a day’s banquet. The real event goes late into the night. We return tomorrow.”
This isn’t a picnic—it’s a retreat!
I suddenly felt overwhelmed. Spend an entire night with this awkward adoptive father, in a stranger’s house, in a strange world?
The maid escorting us to the guest room gave us a warm smile when she saw me sticking close to the duke.
She looked at us like a duckling following its mama duck. But if I’m a duckling, then this man is a crocodile.
The guest room was huge. Who the heck puts a living room in a bedroom? Still, at least there were two bedrooms. My bag had already been delivered and was waiting.
As I unpacked, the duke stood in the living room and spoke.
“Sol, didn’t you say recently you wanted to help the duchy?”
“…Yes.”
“There’s something I want you to do during dinner. A simple task.”
When a villain says something is “simple,” it’s bound to be bad news.
