RIYP 13

Chapter 13

In truth, even if I went to the imperial family, that didn’t necessarily mean I would have to live in the imperial palace together with Rachiel Eslarote Shinsir Roengrantz. Fortunately, Rachiel had one younger sibling.

Aunt Eugenie!

Although she was technically the daughter of Marquis Kedrak and his wife—the emperor’s favored consort—making her legally part of the Kedrak family with no succession rights, that only made Rachiel trust her more.

She had also become close friends with my mother during their time living in the imperial palace, remaining like sisters for the rest of their lives. When I was born, she even became my godmother. Because of that, I naturally grew up calling her “Aunt.”

Looking back, during my time as Beatrice Ricard, Aunt Eugenie had been one of the very few people—alongside Mother—who never openly showed disgust toward me.

More than that, whenever people acted excessively rude in public gatherings, she would quietly appear and subtly intervene without drawing attention.

That was why I held no bad memories of her.

And it was the same for me as Asha. Unlike Rachiel, whom I hadn’t seen even once since being reborn, I met Aunt Eugenie—my godmother and practically my mother’s sister—at least once every season.

Now married to the Duke of Ibliz and known as the Duchess of Ibliz, she cherished me deeply as both her goddaughter and a niece tied to her by affection rather than blood.

Not just in words, either. She never hesitated to travel all the way north just to see me. Last year, when winter had been especially brutal, Mother even sent young me to Ibliz so I could stay with Aunt Eugenie for a couple of months.

The Ibliz Ducal House still had no children of their own, though that probably wasn’t the only reason. The Duke of Ibliz himself was such a warm-hearted man that he always welcomed and doted on me as well.

If it were Aunt Eugenie…

…maybe, if I asked her to raise me until adulthood, she might actually agree.

Of course… it wouldn’t be easy for many reasons.

It would basically mean that the newly established House of Ibliz—who weren’t even my biological family—would be raising the sole heir connecting Roengrantz, Ricard, and Kalredro.

That’s obviously dangerous.

Thankfully, not only did the unlucky Ezekiel Ricard clearly not want to take me in, but even though I had never met him again, it was equally obvious that Rachiel didn’t want responsibility for me either. Even if our side had refused the imperial escort, the fact that they truly sent no one at all made that painfully clear.

Still, that didn’t mean they would welcome me slipping outside their control. I was simply too dangerous—a walking unexploded bomb.

They didn’t want to raise me, but abandoning me outright was equally troublesome.

That was what I was.

And I don’t want either option, either! I don’t want to go to either side!

How hard had it been to finally begin a new life? How lovingly had Mother raised me?

If Ezekiel was a bull calf, then Rachiel was a horse colt.

Honestly, I’d rather live in a barn or stable than beside either of those men.

But one thing is certain—if I go to Ricard…

For a moment, I saw the lingering image of brilliantly waving red hair.

…I’ll meet that person.

The largest fragment of my unforgettable past. The monster beneath the bed that still clung to my ankles.

The owner of the nightmare who had turned the night I first regained my memories into the most painful moment imaginable—making me scream in terror.

“…Agh, whatever! I don’t know anymore!”

Just as my thoughts threatened to spiral deeper, I hurriedly shook my head hard to regain my senses.

“What owner of nightmares?” I muttered to myself. “That person has nothing to do with me anymore.”

…Well, actually, it wasn’t entirely true that we had nothing to do with each other. If Ezekiel was truly my biological father, then that person would be—

Just thinking that far sent chills through me, making my shoulders tremble.

Anyway, now that things had turned out like this, I probably couldn’t avoid running into them once or twice in life.

There was nothing I could do about it. They were much older than me, so all I could really do was hope they died first.

Though honestly, imagining that dreadful woman growing old and sick was almost impossible.

“Whatever happens, happens. Right, Moromoro?”

Repeating the phrase my mom always used—not “Mother,” the woman with long red hair, but my real mom with short blonde hair—gradually calmed my heart.

Yeah. I can do this. I have to.

There was nowhere left to retreat. If I didn’t want to end my life being dragged around helplessly again, I had to do something.

* * *

And so, after hardening my resolve, taking a battle-ready bath, changing into soft pajamas, sleeping deeply in a warmly heated bed while burning with determination…

…finally, the next day arrived.

The moment sunlight appeared, my eyes snapped open—so suddenly that the nanny drawing the curtains screamed in surprise.

Filled with determination to absolutely survive the day successfully as well, I devoured breakfast enthusiastically and finished getting dressed.

After that, everyone became busy packing luggage, leaving me alone. But I wasn’t really a child mentally, so I was perfectly fine by myself.

…Or rather, I was fine until that unpleasant face from yesterday appeared again.

“Mister, why are you here again?”

“….”

Unlike yesterday, Ezekiel Ricard didn’t scold me despite my openly hostile glare. But at the same time, he didn’t avoid my gaze either.

Oh? So that’s how it’s going to be?

Just as our silent staring contest began, thankfully, Marilda Marquis—who had personally been supervising the transport of my luggage—intervened. She already seemed to sense the dangerous atmosphere between us.

“Oh dear. I gave you two some time together last night so you could grow closer, but I suppose it had no effect?”

“…Then your expectations were pointless.”

“Well, actually, Your Grace, you fulfilled my expectations perfectly. I gave you time together, yes, but I never really expected much in the first place.”

Watching Marquis Marilda smile brightly, I became certain of something.

Our marquis… really hates this man.

Hmm… I didn’t know what had happened between them, but regardless, it probably wasn’t the marquis’s fault.

Personally, I hated Ezekiel enough that if there were a demon standing opposite him, I’d probably side with the demon. But separate from that, the marquis sincerely cared for both Mother and me.

Back when I was Beatrice, Mother and Ezekiel had never seemed especially interested in one another. I had absolutely no idea what exactly happened between them that resulted in my birth, nor could I even imagine it.

Still, from the marquis’s perspective—someone born into the loyal vassal house serving Kalredro for generations, who had grown up drinking milk beside Mother and later helped raise me as well—there was no way she could look kindly upon the man who left Mother to bear and raise a child alone.

Even if, for us, those years had been more comedy than tragedy.

Meanwhile, a servant carried the last remaining suitcase out of the room and loaded it onto a cart.

Hmm.

I nodded to myself.

That meant it was finally the turn of the largest and most important remaining piece of luggage: me.

And it was at that exact moment.

“Well then, Your Highness.”

“It’s time to—”

“….”

At the same time, two different hands stretched out toward me.

One was naturally Marquis Marilda’s.

And the other—unfortunately and very much unwelcomely—was Ezekiel’s.

The moment they realized they had both reached out simultaneously, the two adults looked at each other.

An ominous tension instantly filled the air.

The first to speak was Ezekiel.

“…There should still be much for you to do before departure. Haven’t you already been busy enough until now?”

“Shouldn’t Your Grace also be downstairs inspecting the escort personnel and preparing for departure?”

“I intended to take the child with me while doing so and prepare her in advance.”

“Was that really necessary? Frankly, I would think it more troublesome for you. My apologies, but our princess is far too precious for that.”

“At the very least, Marquis Marilda, unlike you, I would not simply leave the child sitting forgotten in the corner of a room.”