RFMH 10

Chapter 10

In the pitch-black darkness where nothing could be seen, the desperate screams of the knights rang out one after another.
Cleora watched the scene with dry, unfeeling eyes, then sank into thought.

No reaction at all…

She had deliberately let the knights tattle, but contrary to her expectations, Eanok remained indifferent. His reaction was flat, as though he were already accustomed to handling shadows.

…If that’s the case, does it mean others have also impersonated me, using shadows to prove themselves?

Incidents like this had happened more often than one might think. Magic that used light similar to shadow could, to the untrained eye, look very much like shadow manipulation. Some had exploited that to impersonate Eisenbold.

For Cleora, who had been approaching this cautiously just in case, this was not good news.

“I’ll need another method.”

Letting out a small sigh, Cleora turned away. Leaving the deeply rooted shadows behind, she vanished into the darkness.

“P-please… spare me…!”

After finishing his work and heading back to his room, Reginald spotted someone walking toward him from the opposite direction and rubbed his eyes.
Did I see that wrong?

He picked up the monocle he had briefly taken off and realized that what he’d seen was no illusion.

“I’m not too late, am I?”

Reginald stared blankly at Cleora, who smiled calmly, then turned his head to look out the window. By the time she asked if she was late, darkness had already fallen long ago.

“What? You’re already off work? That was fast.”
“…At this hour, most people are either spending time with their families or asleep.”
“Really? That’s different from my time.”

And just when exactly was “your time” supposed to be?
Reginald wore a dumbfounded expression, but Cleora paid it no mind and kept her tone consistent.

“So? Is he there or not?”
“…He’s still inside.”

She spoke as if asking whether an object was in stock, yet oddly, Reginald didn’t feel the urge to scold or get angry. With a sigh, he turned his body and knocked on the door to Eanok’s office.

“Your Grace. It’s Reginald.”

Even as he knocked, his eyes remained fixed on Cleora. They were filled with deep concern over whether knocking on this door right now was truly the right thing to do.

Cleora shot Reginald—who was glaring at her with clear displeasure—a crooked look of her own. Just then, a low voice came from inside.

Reginald let out a small sigh, then turned to Cleora and spoke quietly.

“His Grace says now isn’t a good time—”
“I heard him say to come in just now, though?”
“….”

As Cleora made an incredulous, almost absurd expression, Reginald clicked his tongue softly and turned away. As if resigned, he opened the door and went inside, with Cleora following close behind.

Eanok, who had been looking out the window, turned toward Reginald and then toward Cleora as they entered. Reginald glanced back and forth between the two with anxious eyes, shifting awkwardly.

“Leave us.”
“…Yes.”

Reginald bowed his head, withdrew, and closed the door.

In the silent office, now wrapped in stillness, Eanok placed a hand on his desk and leaned forward.

“What brings you here at this hour?”
“It’s nothing in particular—didn’t you ask to see me?”
When Cleora tilted her head, Eanok let out a short, incredulous laugh.

He examined her in silence, then slowly opened his mouth.

“You must have been handling something very important. Considering you didn’t come even after hearing I was looking for you.”
“I was. In many ways.”
“Care to tell me?”
“I don’t mind telling you—but will you be all right with it?”

As Eanok’s brows drew slightly together, Cleora tugged one corner of her lips upward.

“You treated everything I said since coming to this castle as a lie. In that situation, can you really accept whatever I say as the truth?”

Her calm voice carried a straightforward logic. For a moment, Eanok found himself at a loss for words. He hesitated, then straightened the upper body he had been leaning forward.

Bold and arrogant. Yet somehow, it didn’t feel entirely unfounded.
After staring for a long while into the red eyes that looked back at him without the slightest wavering, Eanok released a short breath and spoke.

“Go on.”
“I ran all over the place looking for a way to resolve the Eisenbold family’s financial troubles.”
“And? Did you find one?”
“Well… who knows?”

An ambiguous answer. Clearly, the one at a disadvantage here was not Eanok but Cleora. If so, she would normally have claimed she’d found something, even if it were a lie. But she neither affirmed nor denied it, as if inviting him to guess.

Under normal circumstances, Eanok would have dismissed it as nonsense. Yet perhaps because of the atmosphere, her answer piqued his curiosity.

With his hands in his pockets, Eanok tilted his head slightly as if organizing his thoughts, then slowly rolled his eyes back to Cleora.

“Sounds like you did find something.”
“That’s not for me to decide—it’s for you.”
“For me?”
“Oh—my mistake. Your Grace.”

As she shrugged and corrected herself, Eanok narrowed his eyes.

“That Eisenbold is poor is common knowledge. And everyone who comes before me trying to squeeze even a single coin from such a house all say the same thing.”
“That they’ll solve your financial problems?”
“Exactly. They tell me to invest in them. Of course, fools like that can be spotted as scammers just by looking into their eyes, and a little investigation always reveals their flaws, so I’ve never fallen for it.”
“So you’re saying I’m trying to scam you, Your Grace?”

There was a distinct sharpness in the way she emphasized Your Grace.
Eanok’s eyebrow twitched, but he continued as calmly as possible.

“You’re well aware.”
“Well, I suppose that’s a reasonable assumption. But I’m different from them.”
“How so?”
“They went on about how they’d fix everything, but I said I moved to find a method. Those are two different things.”

A simple play on words—or so Eanok thought. But Cleora was utterly serious.

“I told you earlier. The one who decides isn’t me—it’s you, Your Grace.”
“……”

Eanok stared silently at Cleora, who met his gaze head-on. In the deep, settled darkness, their eyes turned into sharp spears aimed at each other.

A stillness that felt unbreakable. The one who cracked it was Eanok.

Instead of replying to her words, he picked up a folded sheet of paper from atop his desk and slid it forward.

The red eyes dropped down, then lifted straight back up. At her questioning look, Eanok maintained a calm expression.

“From today onward, you will formally stay in this house.”
“And that means?”
“Simply put, I’m acknowledging you as a missing direct descendant of the Eisenbold family.”

Cleora tilted her head at the sudden, complete change in attitude after just a single day.
Why is he acknowledging this so easily?

“More precisely, a candidate.”
“A candidate?”
“You didn’t think I’d decide something this important after one look and in a single day, did you? At the very least, it requires multiple verifications.”
“Ah, so…”

As if she’d realized something, Cleora let out a small exclamation, rolled her eyes once, and grinned.

“You’re planning to dig into my background step by step over time… something like that?”
“……”
“Well, fine. Dig into my background or cut off my head—do as you like. All I want is to stay here. That’s all.”

Had she grasped his intentions in just a few short exchanges? Just who exactly was this child…?

“Then, may I take my leave?”

Cleora’s voice snapped Eanok out of his brief reverie. When his focus returned, she had already turned away.

Eanok watched her move as if to leave, then opened his mouth once more.

“Just who are you?”
“I told you. Cleora.”
“That’s your name?”
“It has a double meaning.”

When Cleora smiled faintly, Eanok furrowed his brow.

Cleora silently watched Eanok’s face twist in confusion, then turned again to head outside—only to pause mid-step.