Chapter 110

The viscountess huffed out heavy, ragged breaths, but since they were on their way to a banquet they'd been personally invited to by the emperor, she didn't raise a hand the way Yunet had.

She just seemed to be biting it back for later.

Yunet, for her part, looked just as frustrated that she couldn't do anything at the moment and was tearing up.

So she took it out on her mother.

She started throwing every kind of tantrum, whining at her.

"Hey. Shut up for a second."

"…What?"

"Are you a parrot? Mother and daughter, both — looks like all either of you knows how to say is what."

"Hey!"

"What!"

"…Hic."

Iberin, who'd been forced to listen to that high-pitched whining all the way to the imperial palace, snapped a little, and Yunet — startled — hiccuped with eyes blown wide as saucers as Iberin gave her a thoroughly pitying look.

"We've arrived."

The coachman's voice came at exactly the right moment. Iberin yanked the carriage door open at once.

Lyssel, who'd already arrived and been waiting, reached out a hand, and Iberin took it naturally and stepped down from the carriage.

But Yunet, too, seemed to be trying to extend her hand toward Lyssel, and rushed to follow her down. Lyssel didn't so much as glance her way — every bit of his attention was on Iberin.

"Was the carriage comfortable?"

"What about you? What did you and the viscount talk about?"

"Just this and that…."

Going by the viscountess and Yunet, the viscount probably didn't have much of a personality either.

She glanced up worriedly, and Lyssel made a strange face.

"Something happened."

He muttered it like he was sure of it, and looked back at the viscountess and Yunet.

"Something did. But you don't need to worry about it."

"You won?"

"Steamrolled them. Flat as jam."

Only then did Lyssel let out a pfft of laughter.

The entrance had already been drawing plenty of attention, and the moment Lyssel laughed, gasps broke out around them.

"Why are people suddenly reacting like that?"

"Hm… I don't know?"

Lyssel was the only one with no idea what was going on, blinking back at her in confusion.

She'd heard the term husband material tossed around plenty, but she'd never thought she'd see it in front of her own eyes.

In any case, that was how she ended up standing at the entrance to the hall with the Sherburn family.

"I-i-it's an honor to meet you, Your Highness!"

Even the servant guarding the entrance was flustered and stammering, and Lyssel just watched him quietly with a look like what's wrong with this person?

"A-ah! Your invitation… if you'd just…"

The servant stretched out a trembling hand, his face caught somewhere between the awe of having met a Lecashe and a small touch of fear.

Lyssel must have just chalked it up to the man being scared of him.

To Iberin, the awe of seeing the man everyone was calling a hero up close looked like the much bigger part of it.

She'd known Lyssel was impressive, but the feeling hit differently now.

Lyssel seemed to catch her watching him and tilted his head to meet her gaze.

"You may go in."

The servant, after checking the invitation, called out loudly.

"His Highness Grand Duke Lyssel Lecashe, the Grand Duchess, and Viscount Sherburn's family!"

The moment the doors at the entrance opened, the brilliant pour of chandelier light cascaded over Iberin's eyes.

A strange sensation washed over her and she went blank. A moment later, her body swayed faintly.

If Lyssel hadn't caught her firmly, she might have dropped right where she stood.

"What is it? Are you hurt anywhere?"

She felt his grip tighten with alarm.

Iberin shook her head slowly and answered.

"I don't know. It's not pain, though."

"…We need to go back."

Entering and leaving in the same breath.

That was ridiculous.

"No. It's really not pain. I think the light just startled me."

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"If anything feels off, I'll tell you right away."

"You really have to say so right away."

"Of course."

Even with her promise locked in, he didn't look like he had any intention of leaving her side.

A crowd of people had gathered around them.

It was as if the world had turned upside down compared to Lecashe territory.

Back when they'd first held the party at the Lecashe estate, no one had approached Lyssel.

They'd been afraid. They'd watched him out of the corners of their eyes.

Now everyone wanted to get close, pretending to know him.

Lyssel widened his eyes at the attention, looking thrown, then his eyes rolled side to side.

Iberin was the only one who caught how cute the reaction was.

She held back the laugh that nearly escaped.

"It's a pleasure, Your Highness Grand Duke Lecashe! I'm Baron Elbert — I fought sword in hand with you on the western front!"

"Did you. I didn't know."

"Yes. I wasn't on the front line itself. But I heard about Your Highness through others. If I'd been a little younger, I might have thrown everything away and followed."

"I see."

The conversation wasn't really flowing, but between everyone who just wanted to stay close in some way or another, they were managing well enough.

Soon enough, the door swung open again.

Every gaze turned, and the servant called out.

"His Grace Duke Cherity!"

Cherity, too, had been one of the main figures of the western campaign, and he was famous to begin with — naturally all eyes turned his way.

But the moment Cherity walked in, he looked around as if searching for something, then broke into a bright smile and headed straight for where Iberin and Lyssel were standing.

The Cherity who'd never turned away anyone's greeting — if only for the sake of public image — was shaking everyone off and walking straight toward the Grand Duke Lecashe.

Everyone held their breath and watched.

"Lady Iberin! It's been ages!"

But — he was greeting the Grand Duchess at the Grand Duke's side, not the Grand Duke himself, looking genuinely pleased.

"You came yesterday too."

"It's been thirty-six thousand seven hundred eighty-nine seconds since we last saw each other…"

"Have you lost it?"

"You're charming even when you're cold. Always warm would be boring."

Oh, my god… Cherity's making a fool of himself…

That was a noble nearby muttering as he watched.

Cherity and making a fool of himself — could two words go together less?

And yet here it was, happening.

People had assumed that the duke and the grand duke might have grown close out west, but no one had even imagined the grand duchess in the picture, and the shock was real.

The viscount and viscountess beside Iberin, and Yunet — same reaction.

Duke Cherity was still unmarried and the top prospect in the empire, which only made it worse.

Yunet stood there with her cheeks flushed red, trembling.

How is she — with Cherity—!

The cheek Iberin had slapped earlier seemed to be burning all the more.

"Duke. Quiet down."

"You two are a foul-mouthed match made in heaven."

"Shut up."

"…."

Cherity was even visibly unable to push back against the Lecashe couple.

Cherity was known as the mild type, but to anyone who actually knew, he was a known lunatic.

He wasn't someone to be taken lightly.

Everyone was so floored they'd lost their words and were just standing there fumbling, and Iberin was the one who broke the silence.

"Ow!"

"What is it?"

"Yunet, what are you doing."

She'd cried out because Yunet had jabbed her sharply in the side.

"What?"

"Why are you poking my side. You startled me."

Iberin's face twisted into a deep frown, her voice all irritation.

"…S-sorry."

Yunet, flustered, mumbled an apology.

"But isn't this embarrassing me a bit too much over a little poke?"

The way she said it sounded like she was trying to make herself look pitiful.

Iberin didn't even pretend to listen.

The others weren't interested either.

Their faces said what is this person, and why is she dropping honorifics with the grand duchess?

In fact, one of the nobles called it out.

"Poking the Grand Duchess in the side? That's far too rude. And the casual speech, no less."

"…A-ah, no. I'm Iberin's younger sister."

"Even so, your stations are different. If there's some closeness, perhaps in private — but at a party like this…"

The noble clicked his tongue.

Yunet's face went bright red, and she shot Iberin a look that begged for help.

But Iberin only stood there quietly watching her.

In the end, the viscount and viscountess stepped in, draped their arms around Yunet's shoulders, and said,

"Yunet, no matter how close you are, I've told you, you have to draw a line between public and private."

"……Ah."

While they were at it, they made a subtle show of their closeness with Iberin.

Of course Iberin wasn't about to just stand there and let that happen.

A lot of noblewomen, no matter how bad the relationship was, put on a forced front of closeness with their birth families.

It was considered the proper thing to do.

But Iberin had no intention of letting House Sherburn pick up even a single scrap.

After watching them for a little while, she could fully understand why she'd thrown such tantrums in the past.

"Truthfully, I don't have good memories of House Sherburn. Because I was married off so young."

"…Is that so?"

She'd married as an adult, so it really wasn't that young.

"Yes. That's right. In fact, this is the first time I've seen my parents in ages. The last time was… probably before I was carrying Lord Ether, so it's been five years now."

No contact for over five years — people naturally read between the lines.

The Grand Duchess wasn't on good terms with House Sherburn.

If things hadn't turned out the way they had, House Sherburn had essentially thrown its own daughter away.

There was no way there wasn't resentment.

The looks the nobles turned on the viscount and viscountess went cold.

At that, the viscount couldn't say a word and just chewed at his lip.

---

The mood in the party hall was warm.

Everyone wanted to be near Lecashe and to make a connection.

Viscount Sherburn naturally got pushed to the back.

He was a viscount and her father, but the news that he'd earned Iberin's dislike had spread quietly in no time.

There were plenty of people who didn't want to be on the wrong side, and that only sped things along.

After talking for a while like that, Iberin felt that strange ringing in her ears again — the same one from when she'd first walked into the party hall.

"…Excuse me, I'm going to step out for some air."

Iberin excused herself to the people she'd been talking with.

Lyssel answered without a moment's hesitation.

"I'll come with you."

"All right."

He'd refuse to let her go even if she said no, so they headed for the terrace together.

She remembered her promise to say something the moment anything felt off.

Once they were tucked behind the terrace curtain and the tension drained out of her, Iberin swayed and leaned into Lyssel.