Chapter 18
The blankets carried the refreshing scent of Cailien.
“To think my first night outside the marquis’ estate would end up being in Lord Cailien’s bedroom…”
Lying on her side in bed, she gazed at the long sofa set not far away. Cailien’s legs, crossed and stretched out, stuck out from the end of the sofa.
“There really was no need for this…”
That was the result of her refusing when he offered the bed. She even asked for a guest room instead, but his answer was ridiculous.
“You wouldn’t hesitate to run away from home. Why wouldn’t you run off from here as well?”
“Sharp as ever.”
Truthfully, she had planned to bolt the moment she left his room. Having snuck out of the marquis’ residence, if he were to send word to her father, it was obvious she’d be in deep trouble.
“I’d be dragged back before I ever set foot in Rephium.”
Rune frowned for no reason, clicked her tongue, and glared at Cailien.
“I won’t inform your father. So stop fussing and sleep.”
It always felt as though he could read her thoughts.
Still, judging by his actions so far, his words were trustworthy enough. Since he had willingly written her a letter of recommendation, it didn’t seem like he intended to stop her from attending the academy.
“He’s closer to helping me, really.”
She had vaguely expected he would assist her, but receiving more help than she imagined left her puzzled.
“Why is he going so far?”
Moonlight streamed faintly through the room, casting deep shadows along the sharp line of his nose. Staring at him quietly, Rune lifted her finger in the air, tracing that straight profile.
Curtains veiled the windows, but the sky beyond was growing pale blue.
Though she had tossed and turned all night, Rune’s eyes opened wide at dawn. The habit of rising early persisted even in unfamiliar places. Rubbing her eyes, she carefully slipped out of bed.
“What time do you even wake up?”
The sofa where Cailien had lain was empty. He must have risen first—water could be heard flowing in the adjoining bathroom near the dressing room.
“Now what…”
Unwanted guest though she was, if she stayed here, it would only be proper to pay her respects to Grand Duke Carlo.
“But then news will surely reach Esté.”
Even if Cailien promised to keep quiet, he could hardly stop his father, who was acquainted with her own.
“It’d be better to slip out quietly.”
If her father learned of this, wouldn’t Cailien also land in trouble? The thought of causing him more inconvenience made her uneasy.
“Still… should I at least say goodbye before leaving?”
The sound of the faucet screeching shut echoed—the water stopped.
Her brief dilemma became pointless. Acting on instinct, Rune snatched her bag and dashed to the balcony.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
The memory of Cailien grabbing the scruff of her neck the night before flitted across her mind.
“He’ll definitely catch me again.”
Beyond the balcony loomed a plane tree of about the same height.
She tossed her bag down first. The branches shook violently, scattering green leaves as the bag caught.
Rune bravely set a foot on the railing—then froze.
“This is… higher than I thought.”
The darkness last night had hidden it, but it was roughly the height of a third floor.
She swallowed hard and looked ahead. It was far, but with a running start she might just be able to grab onto the tree.
Click. The bathroom door handle turned inside the room.
“Damn.”
There was no more time to hesitate.
Pushing off with her back foot, Rune hurled herself toward the tree.
“Ugh!”
Whack! She barely caught a branch, leaves cascading down as she dangled.
“Leaving home is nothing but misery…”
She let out a laugh. Humphrey’s grumbling always came to mind during long subjugation expeditions, and now of all times it rang in her ears.
He hadn’t been wrong. On her first day out of the marquis’ estate she nearly fell from the sky, and now she was climbing trees of all things.
Stepping carefully on thick knots in the bark, she made her way down until she reached the branch where her bag was caught.
Reaching for it, she caught sight of the dawning sky through the leaves—and her eyes widened.
In the distance, beneath the brightening heavens, stretched an endless sapphire lake.
“Wow… I’ve never seen such a huge lake before.”
The blue waters seemed even longer and wider than the western Lael River she had once glimpsed.
Entranced by the view, she missed her footing.
“Ah!”
Her vision spun as she plummeted, wind whipping fiercely around her body.
“Wha—?”
Instead of crashing, the wind lifted her gently, lowering her to the ground. The moment her feet touched grass, her knees gave out and she collapsed into a heap.
“What… what was that just now?”
Creaaak. A pair of thin wheels rolled up before her.
Dazed, Rune lifted her head. A middle-aged man in a wheelchair was gazing down at her.
His face seemed strangely familiar.
“You’re Edmund’s…”
He seemed to recognize her too, eyes widening.
“Rune? Why are you here?”
“…You know me?”
“It’s not strange if you don’t remember. It has been long since I last saw you, back when you were a child.”
He patted her shoulder warmly as she rose uncertainly, laughing heartily.
“I am Carlo Heraith.”
Rune’s eyes went round at the name. She quickly pressed a hand over her left breast and knelt on one knee.
“I greet Your Grace, Grand Duke Carlo.”
Biting her lip, she cursed her bad luck. She had risked climbing a balcony to avoid meeting him—only to run straight into him instead.
“A pleasure, Rune. As it happens, I was just thinking how I needed someone to push my chair, since I’m out of strength.”
With a kindly smile, the grand duke inclined his head.
“Would you help me?”
Rune pushed the wheelchair as the grand duke entered the ducal estate.
“So much for escaping. Out the balcony and back in through the front door…”
Inside the main hall, a butler hurried up, startled to see his lord. Chiding him for venturing out alone so early, the butler took the chair from Rune.
“You’ll worsen your health if you keep overexerting yourself.”
“Such fuss… ahem.”
Flustered by the scolding, Carlo coughed and gestured toward Rune.
“This is the son of Marquis Esté.”
“Rune Adelu Luz Esté. I apologize for disturbing you so early, Your Grace.”
“Prepare a meal at once. Make sure to set a place for our guest as well.”
And just like that, Rune found herself treated as an invited guest of the ducal house.
Before long, a neat spread of dishes was set upon the long dining table, as if her presence had been expected.
“Why isn’t he asking?”
Surely climbing a tree at dawn had looked suspicious, yet the grand duke had asked her nothing.
Cautiously nibbling her omelet, Rune ventured a question:
“That wind earlier… was it Your Grace’s doing?”
“I thought it was some cheeky servant boy climbing a tree. Never expected it would be you falling from the sky.”
Seated at the head of the table, Carlo laughed heartily at the memory.
“He hasn’t even fully recovered, and yet he used magic so casually…”
Rune studied the still-thin face, seeing traces of illness, but his large frame and piercing gaze still radiated the presence of a man who once commanded the imperial army.
The Heraith line had always produced heads of house who possessed overwhelming aura. Carlo was not only a magic swordsman but also skilled in the arts of sorcery.
“Cailien will one day succeed him as head of House Heraith.”
Without doubt, he was a worthy heir.
Just then, the dining hall doors swung open as servants announced another arrival.
“Speak of the devil…”
There stood Cailien in a light tunic, gazing at her with clear displeasure.
“You’re here, Cail. I happened upon a welcome guest during my walk, so we began breakfast early.”
The grand duke winked discreetly, perhaps intending to cover up her earlier antics.
“Isn’t that right, Rune?”
“Ha-ha… Yes. Good morning, Lord Cailien.”
Forcing a bright smile, she raised her voice cheerfully.
Cailien stared at her silently, unreadable, then sighed and walked closer.
Rune braced herself, instinctively shrinking as his hand hovered over her head—no doubt ready to muss up her hair again.
Instead, his touch brushed lightly against her before withdrawing.
“…?”
Opening her eyes in confusion, she found him staring down at her expressionlessly.
“Quite the noisy stroll, wasn’t it?”
In his hand, he held a fresh green leaf—plucked from her hair.
“Damn it.”
