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Chapter 74
Mehen’s always neat and proper face twisted.
He had learned truths he would rather not know, and his head was tangled in confusion.
“…What on earth is that medicine made of— No, never mind. Another secret, I suppose.”
“You know me well.”
The man’s leisurely smile was sensual.
Irritation flared up for no reason. What was so amusing that he could laugh like that?
“You should have told me sooner.”
“I had no time, no mind, no room for it.”
“Even later, then.”
“Not the kind of story you tell through a comms device someone might be eavesdropping on.”
Every word was right. Which only made it more annoying.
Arelene’s illness was something that not even the Temple, the Mage Tower, or the Healers’ Guild could diagnose. Some had said it might be a curse instead of a disease, and even that line of inquiry had led to nothing but disappointment.
The medicine was the only thing that had any effect on such an unknown illness. It could not possibly be ordinary.
Mehen had suspected as much—suspected, but…
The idea that, for the sake of saving his only daughter, the man would strike a deal and then hole himself up in that northern fortress—a place little better than exile—just didn’t fit him at all. So Mehen had dismissed the suspicion.
And yet, the man had never once come to the capital.
“…Ha.”
What a bundle of contradictions.
“So then, ever since your return…”
The Grand Duke of Halbern smiled as if to say, You’ve got it right.
“…Damn it.”
Mehen had cursed him for vanishing without a trace right after his return, but it had all been because of the deal.
Annoying, hateful—but at the same time, there was logic in it, and Mehen even understood. That made it impossible to keep cursing, which was maddening in its own way.
“Why curse like that?”
“How can I not?”
While Mehen sighed endlessly, the man just chuckled to himself.
“You didn’t stake your body, your soul, or your life on it, did you?”
“You’re treating me like a child. Think I’d fall for some swindler’s contract?”
“How am I supposed to believe you, when you keep acting like this?”
“Don’t worry. I won’t have the bad luck of suddenly losing my job.”
Yeah, right.
Whatever trust Mehen might once have had in his lord had long since sunk below zero.
“The medicine will arrive on time. It’s important. Make sure she takes it properly.”
Who was lecturing whom here? Mehen was dumbfounded.
“Even so…”
He clenched his fist and declared:
“You are the most wretched excuse for a father in the world, my lord. Do you know that?”
The Grand Duke didn’t reply. He only laughed uproariously.
“You want me to fire you?”
“Yes. Please, by all means.”
“I won’t. So keep working.”
“Fire me. I want to retire.”
“A child’s mother can’t just leave her child behind.”
“…Damn it.”
“Why’s your mouth so foul? The child might hear and be shocked.”
“I was born a commoner, raised on the streets, and never learned any manners. Satisfied?”
“Even so, you’re better than the ones who were educated. That’s enough.”
“…For crying out loud.”
So irritating he made Mehen want to beat him to death—but then, when he spoke like this, Mehen’s heart softened. They had been together too long to simply walk away.
This damned man.
“…My lord. No—Valer.”
From the moment Arelene had been entrusted to him until now, one question had never left Mehen’s mind.
There were many others—so why him?
Why had the Grand Duke entrusted her to him?
“Why was it me?”
“Because there was no one else.”
“…”
“No one else I trust.”
Those indifferent violet eyes gleamed darkly. Mehen’s expression crumbled.
“I only trust you. You know that, right?”
The boy who once smiled so brightly—when had he become someone who smiled with eyes and lips that revealed nothing?
Too many memories welled up, and Mehen’s chest ached.
“Mehen.”
Those violet eyes, now warm, looked straight at him.
“If there’s one thing in my life I did right, it was picking you up.”
“And the worst mistake of my life was following you that day.”
Even at that sharp retort, the Grand Duke remained unshaken. With a languid smile, he declared:
“Is that so? Too bad. There won’t be a next chance.”
The Halbern estate was unusually lively.
Normally it was so quiet and still that it hardly seemed like anyone lived there. But today the atmosphere was practically buzzing.
The reason was simple.
The master of the house had returned.
“Has His Grace come back for good?”
“Looks like it, since he hasn’t gone back. I even heard the Saren Knights are returning, too!”
“Honestly, isn’t it a waste of manpower to have someone like His Grace guarding the northern fortress?”
“Someone else will go there. It’s always been known as a place of demotion and exile anyway.”
“But wasn’t he ridiculously handsome?”
“You saw him too? I nearly stopped breathing.”
Anyone who cared to listen could hear gossip about the Grand Duke of Halbern drifting from every corner.
Admiration, fear, curiosity, excessive interest.
So that’s how most people treat him, huh.
To me, he might be a good-for-nothing father, but his position and influence were beyond compare.
“If I hadn’t read the novel, maybe I’d be the same.”
In the book, he was the walking icon of secrets and unresolved mysteries. Meeting the real person was simply…strange.
The fact that he was handsome had been an extra shock.
Dad…
It would be nice to have one.
Compared to “Mom”—a word that always carried longing, tenderness, grief, and devotion—my feelings about “Dad” were dry.
Well, in my previous life, my father had never been affectionate with me either.
He had always been just the man trailing after Mom.
“I think I did have some good memories with him, though.”
It wasn’t that he didn’t love me. He just loved Mom like a madman.
Dad had been little more than a fanatic devotee to Mom.
Maybe that’s why. The Grand Duke’s un-fatherly behavior hardly fazed me.
Mehen seemed angry about it, though.
What was surprising instead was the attitude of the “childcare squad.”
“His Grace? Ha. So what if he came.”
“Doesn’t mean playing Dad now will change anything.”
“A father isn’t just someone who sires a child.”
“Exactly. He’s still a long way from earning the young lady’s love.”
“We’re on your side, my lady!”
Their faint hostility, their subtle competitiveness—it was strange.
“We may have lost to Sir Mehen, but we won’t lose to His Grace!”
“That’s right, that’s right!”
Who exactly were they competing against, and over what?
“…Mm, sure. Do your best.”
Whatever it was, I wanted no part of it. But when I gave them a token response, their spirits soared.
They vowed to stick together so I wouldn’t be “taken away.” I still couldn’t understand it.
Taken away by who, exactly?
As if I didn’t have enough to worry about already…
“…Sigh.”
Another sigh slipped out.
I had been sighing so often these days that the childcare squad had even considered a full medical exam, thinking I’d come down with some new illness.
Me, liking Pession…
“…No, no, no…”
Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.
I wanted to fret about how the novel’s course had changed, how I couldn’t predict the future anymore, how this wasn’t the story I knew. That familiar anxiety of a reincarnator. But all of that was drowned out by this.
“…Ugh.”
These fuzzy, ticklish feelings were so unbearably awkward and embarrassing I thought I’d lose my mind.
I had to keep dragging my brain back from trying to drift into space.
No. It’s all just hormones, illusions of the brain.
I denied reality as hard as I could. Told myself it was a delusion, tried to run from it.
“Why doesn’t self-hypnosis work for this? It’s unfair.”
Was this what they called the “denial phase of falling for someone”?
No, I was being honest and serious—if I said it wasn’t love, then it wasn’t! So why did such a phrase even exist? It made no sense.
“…Argh!”
I ended up flailing in frustration until tears pricked my eyes, and then the childcare squad rushed over to comfort me.
“My lady, are you all right?”
“It’s because of His Grace, isn’t it?!”
Their convenient misunderstanding was almost welcome. Even then, my thoughts were elsewhere.
“…Sigh.”
For the first time, I wondered.
What was Pession doing right now?
