IACGD 10

Chapter 10

Two days had passed since seeing the duchess.

Clémen, busy dusting every corner, heard footsteps climbing the stairs.

It was a knight bringing a meal.

“Hello!”

Clémen greeted him and reached for the trolley—but froze.

The knight, who had disappeared immediately after setting down the trolley before, now wriggled his lips as he looked at Clémen. He seemed curious but hesitant to speak.

“What is it? Do you have something to say?”
“Uh… it’s nothing!”

Clémen caught the knight as he tried to dash away.

“I can’t sleep if I’m curious. Just say it quickly.”
“W-well…”

Why was he hesitating so much? Clémen stomped her foot in anticipation but didn’t rush him—if she did, he’d probably run.

Minutes, though feeling like a whole day, passed. Finally, the knight spoke.

“H-have you… seen His Grace’s face?”

“Pardon?”

It was entirely unexpected.

Clémen burst out laughing, and the knight’s face fell.

“See! I told you to just leave!”
“I… uh, I didn’t think you’d be curious about that.”
“…So, you won’t answer?”
“I have seen him.”

The knight’s eyes lit up with expectation, waiting for the obvious next words. But instead came another question.

“Why are you curious?”
“Well… the steward says His Grace was incredibly cute, and it’s a shame I never saw him as a child. I wanted to know what he’s like now.”

Now that it had come this far, the young knight spilled everything in one go.

“From the portrait, he’s the most beautiful person in the world, but hasn’t even been ten years since then! I heard I was called cute when I was young, but that’s not really the case now, right? I’m very curious to see if His Grace is still cute.”

Clémen couldn’t help giggling.

“He’s still cute.”
“…W-what? I’m a knight! I don’t want to be called cute!”
“Ah, okay, I won’t say that. But the lord of this castle… hmm. In one word, he’s beautiful.”
“Eh?”
“White as snow… beautiful eyes, perfect nose, and lips so red.”

That was all she could muster. Her vocabulary wasn’t enough for flowery language. She thought a moment, then had an idea.

“He looks like Rosia.”

Except for slightly rounder eyes and a higher nose, they really did look alike. Clémen explained with all her effort.

“I see. His Grace the Duke has grown well. Then why is it only me…”

The knight slumped his shoulders, then bowed politely.

“Thank you for answering my strange questions sincerely. I am Cael, apprentice knight!”
“Clémen.”
“Yes, fire sprite!”
“…Clémen!”
“Enjoy your meal!”

Cael dashed down the stairs like the wind. Clémen shook her head with a small chuckle and knocked on Zephyrus’s door.

“Yes.”

Inside, Zephyrus was buried in paperwork.

“Clémen, entrance!”

Even amid the noise, Zephyrus gestured toward the plates—time to eat.

She heated new plates and sat down. Only then did Zephyrus lift his head slightly. Clémen met his eyes through the fur mask and immediately spoke.

“Did you work well?”
“Why do you care?”
“Just chatting. Don’t you want to know what I did today?”
“Not really.”
“Aw, come on, at least listen. Today’s my first day on the job!”

Despite the bright, bouncy energy, Clémen’s voice was lower than expected, carrying clearly.

Zephyrus was grateful the thick fur and cloth covered his ears. Otherwise, he might have responded and interrupted her.

‘Why is she talking about my face from outside the door?’

She kept repeating how pretty he was. How could she know that much from so few glimpses of his bare face? She seemed to think he couldn’t hear her…

If she knew I even heard her humming this morning, she’d be embarrassed.

Zephyrus imagined Clémen blushing.

Better not.

He felt a sudden urge to laugh but ignored it. He told himself it was just to memorize more of her weaknesses.

The sounds outside the room were his only link to the world.

Though he’d blocked the cold air completely, he wanted to hear sounds clearly. Only magic could achieve that—almost nothing couldn’t be done with magic.

It cost much, but back when his father, the previous duke, was alive, the north had been a decent territory.

The monsters that endlessly sprang from the mountains could be traded for food, and the royal family provided support. They acted as a shield for the mountains’ monsters, in exchange for aid.

Now, he couldn’t even afford a mage or artifacts.

All ruined because of him. Yet he ate anyway, feeling pathetic.

“At least I was of some help. That’s a good thing.”

Having warmed the food, it would be a shame to leave any behind. Zephyrus swallowed the last bite.

“Are you listening, Master?”
“No.”

After filling his stomach and tidying the cloth over his face, Clémen frowned.

She considered a topic Zephyrus would be interested in.

“Master, when was the last time you saw Rosia?”
“Ten years old… why ask now?”
“I heard you and Rosia are cousins.”
“Why do you care?”
“Just wondering if you’d be curious about her face. Thought I’d explain.”

It caught his attention.

Clémen had said she resembled Rosia, but Zephyrus hadn’t fully understood.

Rosia, four years older, had been like a general even before adulthood. She preferred pants over skirts and archery over embroidery. Clémen still remembered placing snowballs on his head while Rosia shot arrows, and even when she was scolded by his uncle.

“The way she blushes is exactly the same as yours!”
“What?”
“And her eyes widen when surprised! But Rosia’s elegant like a fox, while you’re like a Jubile.”

Zephyrus tapped the table, wondering what this “Jubile” was.

“Uh… they live in the desert. Small, timid, round eyes, fluffy fur! Just like you. Really.”

He didn’t dare say “like a mouse.”

As they chatted, Clémen brought up a topic Zephyrus would like even more: the duchess.

Rosia held his attention, but his mother—surely even more.

“Right. I saw Master’s mother.”
“Your mother’s in the north too?”
“Huh? I don’t have a mother.”
“Kuk, k-uh… hmm!”

She had a way of giving heavy answers lightly.

Momentarily confused, Clémen realized who she had met.

“Wait. So you saw my mother?”
“I said that from the start.”
“You….”

A sudden chill swept the room.

“You visited my mother?”
“Yes.”
“How dare you… why?”

Clémen swallowed her food and blinked. Zephyrus’s form was hidden under fur, but the atmosphere was enough.

He was so angry ice spikes seemed to form.

Is this… not just an atmosphere?

Clémen silently endured his wrath. Thinking of it as a quarrel with a friend made her heart flutter. Somehow, his anger didn’t seem aimed at her, so she didn’t argue.

“You seem to think you can do anything. You just follow orders.”

His voice was still low and cold, though slightly strained.

“You think because you ate with me, you can enter Pruina? Don’t be foolish.”

There was a hint of tears in that icy voice. Not ordinary tears, but the small, alert tears of a tiny animal bristling all over.

“Don’t cross the line. You’re an outsider. Suspicious through and through.”

And it was familiar.

Just like me.

Clémen remembered her younger self—annoyed, angry, expressing frustration outwardly.

Of course, unlike her fiery younger self who burned everything nearby, the frail duke seemed unable to fully unleash his anger.

“Even if Master told me not to go, I couldn’t help it. I promised the duchess.”