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Chapter 4
“Not the man with glasses—the one with the moustache.”
At Esiel’s insistence, Romford looked back at the portrait he was holding. In his hands were two distinct portraits: one of a man with striking round glasses and another of a neatly groomed moustache without any excess detail.
They were Duke Seiden and Duke Bergeil. One of them was likely the leader of those opposing the Legonis family’s influence, a man constantly waiting for an opportunity to bring down the Grand Duke.
Of course, Romford had no reason to concern himself with such insignificant people—until the Emperor declared a war under an absurd pretext.
“What exactly do you think this is, to say something like that?”
“Th-that…”
Esiel tried to offer an excuse, but quickly changed her mind. Naturally, she already knew who was plotting behind the scenes.
“That man just looks more evil.”
“Ha!”
Romford let out a disbelieving laugh. The trembling, stuttering child from earlier was nowhere to be seen. Despite how absurd her words were, there was an unexpected firmness in her eyes.
“He just looks like a villain.”
“A villain?”
Esiel withdrew her finger and looked up at Romford. Her heart pounded so violently she felt like her body might shake. The man in front of her was someone who could draw a blade on her at any moment.
Probably around this time…
According to the novel’s storyline, Romford would later be pushed into war by Duke Bergeil and the Emperor. But it was a war that should never have happened. Romford himself knew that.
However, all the nobles insisted a war was necessary. They even accused Romford of plotting treason as the reason he opposed it, pushing him into a corner. It was all because Duke Bergeil had already swayed the nobles to his side.
But that won’t happen.
Romford would ultimately return victorious far earlier than expected, but the House of Legonis would suffer heavy losses. Knowing this, the present Romford must have been deeply troubled.
“…Perhaps I truly am lacking sleep. To be listening to the words of something so insignificant.”
Romford muttered to himself bitterly. The child who barely reached his knees had no credibility. Yet strangely, his gaze kept drifting back to the portrait she had pointed at.
At that moment, faint footsteps echoed from a distance, breaking the tension.
“Your Grace. Are you retiring for the night? If you are perhaps planning to—”
The butler had noticed Romford and approached, but quickly corrected himself upon seeing Esiel, who was standing beside him.
“My apologies. I should have checked more carefully…”
As the butler hurriedly bowed in apology, Romford stopped him with a frown, rubbing his brow.
“Are there any servants awake?”
“Yes, about three or four.”
“Then have this taken to be washed.”
Romford spoke in his usual indifferent tone. His thick, rough finger, lowered from his brow, pointed at Esiel.
“…Eh?”
Do I really need to be washed?
“Follow me,” the butler said, quickly recovering his composure and addressing Esiel.
She blinked, her eyes even wider than before, still too shocked to respond properly.
“Yes… yes.”
* * *
Sunlight poured in. The early summer sun had arrived early.
Even a room tucked away in the corner of the mansion could not escape the light spilling through the window. A red glow shimmered through Esiel’s hair as it caught the sunlight on the bed.
“So warm…”
Esiel had already woken up, but she only blinked lazily. In the royal palace, this would never have been allowed. If she woke early, she was scolded for rising too soon; if she woke late, she was scolded for oversleeping.
Last night, servants acting on the Grand Duke’s orders had even bathed her in warm water. That too would have been unimaginable in the royal palace. There, Esiel had always been given cold water under flimsy excuses, no matter the season.
The warmth spreading across her back was comforting. If she could continue enjoying such small happiness, then the fear and terror of being held hostage might not matter so much.
“Ah, nice…”
Bang—!
Of course, the child who burst into the room without warning and made a nuisance of himself was the exception.
“Hey!”
Ferudin’s energetic voice rang out first thing in the morning, far too lively for the hour. He seemed unusually excited.
“What? You’re still sleeping? You’re seriously oversleeping.”
If only he hadn’t come this early, I would’ve welcomed him nicely!
Esiel swallowed her words, pressing her lips tightly together. She even closed her eyes tightly, pretending to be asleep.
“Hmph. Hey, hostage! Do you even know what time it is? Get up!”
Ferudin shouted in dissatisfaction. Then came the sound of something being dragged across the floor—scrrrrk.
Soon, pressure began pushing down on Esiel’s blanket-covered body. It wasn’t the touch of fingers; it was something broader, more insistent.
The pressure continued relentlessly, as if it wouldn’t stop as long as she stayed in bed.
Endure it, endure it, endure— I can’t endure this!
Unable to take it any longer, Esiel sat up. When she did, she saw Ferudin sitting on a chair turned backward, hugging its backrest, with one shoe tossed carelessly aside.
“Let’s play!”
Ferudin grinned brightly, like a mischievous boy running wild through the neighborhood. His face was so bright and open that even the freckles scattered across it only added to his charm.
“Fine. But not just a game this time. Let’s make it a bet!”
“A bet?”
Ferudin repeated her words, narrowing his brow slightly as if trying to guess her intention.
Esiel crawled across the bed on her knees and picked up the neatly folded dress from the table in the corner. She needed to get dressed.
“Ugh—ah! Right. The winner gets a wish.”
“Wish?”
Ferudin tilted his head, curious but unable to guess what she meant.
After pulling the dress over her head, Esiel spoke.
“Mm, ha—yes. Fine. The loser has to grant one wish.”
Her hair was messy now, but she didn’t care. A playful smile crept onto her lips. Ferudin nodded immediately.
“A wish? Then let’s go outside this time.”
“Eh?”
While Esiel was still processing his words, Ferudin hopped off the chair and headed toward the door. Even early in the morning, he looked like a proper young noble.
“Follow me!”
Holding the door handle with one hand, he beckoned with the other.
“…You really mean outside?”
Esiel asked nervously. Her mind was torn between caution and curiosity about the unknown. She hesitated, and Ferudin urged her impatiently.
“Everyone’s busy right now. No one will care.”
“I…”
“Ugh, fine. It’s a secret, but I even know a shortcut. Let’s go!”
Before she could respond, Ferudin grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the room.
“W-wait!”
The bustling sounds of the mansion in the morning fortunately echoed from far away. Still, Esiel kept glancing around nervously.
This feels unsafe… but whatever. It’s not like I’ll run into the Grand Duke, right?
Ferudin glanced at her and said,
“The end of that corridor is the shortcut. Hey, this is my secret, got it?”
“I-I’ll keep it secret.”
He narrowed his eyes and pointed toward a plain, unadorned door compared to the mansion’s elegant ones.
He opened it confidently. Beyond it was a staircase used by servants, running along the wall.
“Don’t get hurt. Just follow me.”
Esiel nodded slowly and followed him down the stairs. At the bottom were two more doors.
“See? I told you it’s a shortcut.”
Ferudin opened one of them and leaned against the frame proudly, as if waiting for praise.
Esiel smiled faintly and stepped outside toward the garden.
The carefully maintained garden was filled with the freshness of summer leaves and colorful blooming flowers.
“Wow… it’s so beautiful.”
The green of the garden reflected in Esiel’s jade-colored eyes. It was far more vast and beautiful than the royal palace gardens.
While she was lost in the scenery, Ferudin’s excited voice broke her reverie.
“Let’s play now! Or should I tell you my wish first?”
“W-what? And you better not say we redo it if you lose!”
“Like I’d lose to you, idiot.”
Ferudin stuck out his tongue playfully.
“Ugh, just start already!”
Esiel frowned, determination flashing across her round eyes.
“Then… hide-and-seek! You’re it. Count to 100!”
Ferudin shouted and dashed off instantly, disappearing like lightning.
