Chapter 114

"Yes?"

"…Rotte."

"Yes. What is it."

"The reason Iberin didn't come down for the meal was that we thought the doctor was a hypnotist. And then he slipped away and pulled something."

"You mean that doctor?"

The knight they'd assigned to guard Iberin had been found unconscious {too.}(#nfizm7cqzlah)

It was certain Caliman had done something.

The man calling himself Caliman probably did hold a real doctor's credentials.

He'd shout that he was being wronged, that Lecashe was framing an innocent man.

But more than that, a much colder thought had just hit Lyssel.

"What if Iberin's a hypnosis victim too?"

"…What?"

"You saw Elvin when he came for Ether, so you know — hypnosis and brainwashing don't get set up overnight."

"…But this time the lady reacted and collapsed. And it wasn't poison."

"Right. It's strange."

Rotte's face tightened to match his.

It was possible that everything about Iberin had been a lie.

"You don't mean…"

A possibility surfaced in Rotte's mind, and a chill ran straight up her spine.

What if even Iberin's sharp temper and her violent streak had been built into her by hypnosis and conditioning?

The fact was, generations of Grand Duchesses all had difficult personalities.

But no one had ever taken it seriously.

Because they'd thought it was only natural.

A noble one day, the bride of a cursed house the next.

It was a position where others, calling her a tribute, subtly looked down on her and avoided her.

Staying sane in that role would have been the stranger thing.

And yet, the moment Iberin lost her memory, she'd become a completely different person.

She'd been shaken to learn she'd hit Ether, and she'd grown into someone who understood Lyssel and held him close.

"The pregnancy too."

"…You did conceive right after the viscount and viscountess came to visit."

"…."

"There was someone else with them. That man must've been a hypnotist too."

"Hh. Just — how far back, and how deep, were they pulling the strings…."

Lyssel clawed at his own hair, tearing at himself with the shame of having known none of it.

The urge to kill was rising in him.

His eyes burned red, and in a heartbeat they filled with murder.

"Your Highness, please — calm down first."

Lyssel bit down on the impulse, his trembling hands clenching into fists.

He'd thought leaving — giving everything up and walking away — would be enough.

Right now, in this moment, he understood that that had all been a fantasy.

Running wasn't the answer.

He'd just been a fool, scrambling to avoid loss, terrified of letting go of the one precious thing he'd barely gotten his hands on.

With no idea what that precious thing had been built out of.

A trickle of blood ran down the side of his mouth.

It mixed with his tears and dripped, drop by drop, to the floor.

"…."

Rotte stood there blankly, unable to offer a word.

If she was this shaken, how must Lyssel be feeling.

And so Lyssel turned over his regret at his own stupidity and his vow of revenge against the emperor.

Revenge had never even occurred to him before — and now, for the first time, he wanted to break everything the imperial family had.

A line from his father, the previous Grand Duke, came back to him.

That Lecashe wasn't cursed — that what they carried was the will to live a noble life.

His father had probably been a victim too.

If he himself hadn't met Iberin, he'd have walked the same road.

Never knowing anything about it was wrong.

This wasn't a noble life. This was a life worse than a dog's.

---

Iberin was moved to the bedroom, and the physician stayed by her for hours, watching the situation.

No one could afford to stay tangled up in feelings forever.

Ether and Rozelia had cried themselves out a while ago and were asleep beside her, and Kal had taken it on himself to keep watch over the viscount, the viscountess, and Caliman.

No one had ordered him to. He'd chosen it.

Lyssel walked slowly toward Iberin.

It hurt him that the only Iberin he ever seemed to see beside him was a hurting one.

"Your Highness…."

Rotte watched him with quiet sympathy and hurried over to check on Iberin.

Even so, her color had eased a great deal compared to right after she'd collapsed.

Lyssel had been sitting at her side for hours without moving. He looked up at Rotte and asked,

"What are the viscount and his wife and that doctor doing?"

"They're threatening the servants that they'll report this to His Imperial Majesty."

"Hh…."

A flash of killing intent rose in him, but he tamped it down.

"So I told them to go ahead."

"And?"

"They told us we'd see."

It was essentially a confession that the emperor was behind them.

Lyssel was glad they'd locked them up.

He didn't know yet what trick they'd used to bring Iberin down, but he was going to make them live the rest of their lives in regret.

For that, he first had to find out what had been done to her.

It was clear at least that they'd tried hypnosis.

"Though Kal said the reason Lady Iberin collapsed might be that the hypnosis failed."

"What?"

"They tried it, but it didn't take, he said."

"…Huh."

"He doesn't know why it didn't take, though."

That was when it happened.

Iberin, who'd looked like she was simply sleeping, twisted hard on the bed.

Rotte rushed over in alarm, and Iberin woke up with a scream.

"Iberin!"

Lyssel, just as startled, shouted her name — almost a scream.

"Haa…."

Iberin was gasping like she'd been badly frightened by something.

Then her eyes met Lyssel's and tears spilled out of her all at once.

It didn't look like physical pain — more like she'd been startled by something.

"Iberin, it's all right. You're all right."

Lyssel was thrown, but he steadied himself and patted her gently.

"…Lyssel?"

After crying in his arms for a while, Iberin finally murmured his name softly.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

"A nightmare…."

Iberin still wore a dazed expression — then her eyes seemed to take in the room, and she asked, puzzled,

"What is everyone doing here?"

Rotte's eyes met Lyssel's.

"Iberin, do you remember what happened?"

"…What… happened?"

Iberin answered, foggy.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"I was waiting in the room for you to come out…."

"Waiting for me…?"

"I don't have any memory after that. Did I collapse?"

"You did. You wouldn't wake up, and we were worried. More than that — why did you wake up screaming?"

"Something really frightening…."

Iberin's answer trailed off, and she went vague again.

Only then did Lyssel realize something was wrong.

"What was I just saying?"

"…Oh, my god."

Rotte clapped a hand over her mouth.

Kal had been sure the cause of the collapse was the side effect of a failed hypnosis attempt — but had the hypnosis actually taken after all?

If so, what kind of hypnosis had Caliman tried?

Everyone was sitting there with serious faces, unable to speak — and then Iberin said,

"I'm {joking."}(#9qynsddk36qw)

"…What?"

Lyssel's voice came out sharp.

"That Caliman — he's a hypnotist, isn't he?"

"He is. But what happened. And what's this about joking."

His brows knit in undisguised anger, and Iberin scratched at the back of her neck.

"…You're mad?"

"Of course I'm mad. There are jokes you can make and jokes you can't. Why would you joke about this?"

Iberin was a little surprised that he was saying it openly, without holding back.

Then she broke into a wide smile.

"You're smiling?"

Lyssel asked it like the floor had just gone out from under him.

"Ah. Not because it's funny."

"Then?"

"It's just — I'm happy you're angry…."

"…Lady Iberin. Your taste in things?"

Rotte, who'd been quiet, briefly wore an expression like she was looking at something deeply rotten.

"No! It's not like that!"

"…."

"It's really not!"

"…All right. More importantly — how did you know the second you opened your eyes that you'd been hypnotized?"

"That's how you're brushing past my taste situation?"

"…."

Lyssel pointedly looked away, like he didn't want to hear another word, and Iberin felt utterly wronged.

"Don't be like that. I'm sorry for pulling a prank the moment I woke up."

"You're sure it really isn't like that?"

"It isn't, it isn't."

"All right. In any case, Iberin's tastes aren't what matter here. How did you know on your own that you'd been hypnotized?"

"And the being-mad part is fine now?"

"Yes. Sorry for getting mad."

"I was the one in the wrong. Everyone looked so serious that I just couldn't help it. I'm really sorry."

Iberin rushed the apology out, and despite the situation Lyssel ended up laughing.

She was so put out about it that it really did seem like it wasn't that.

"Don't laugh. I was about to be seriously wronged here."

"Then why pull a joke like that — and then say weird things like you're happy I got mad. You set up your own misunderstanding."

"It's the first time you've gotten mad at me, I think. You've been better about expressing emotions lately, but you've never been angry. I wondered if you were just bottling everything up."

"That can't be true. If something makes me angry, I get angry."

"Were you angry just now?"

"…A little?"

"Hehe."

"Don't smile like that. What are you going to do if you get treated like a pervert again…."

"Heyyyy."

"Anyway, please — tell me. How did you know. Was it just a hunch? You're good at reading these things."

"Ah, that."

While she'd been unconscious, Iberin had dreamed.

When Caliman's hypnosis attempt failed, the side effect had shown her the real Iberin's memories like a dream.

Every one of them ugly and terrible.

That man — Caliman — was the very hypnotist who'd laid hypnosis on the original owner of this body.

Because she wasn't the real Iberin, the hypnosis that had been set before couldn't take, and instead it seemed to have shaken the buried memories loose.

"…That Caliman put me under hypnosis."

"What? I heard it failed?"

"Caliman confessed?"

"No. Kal predicted it."

"Ah. It failed — that part's true. What I'm talking about is from earlier. Much earlier."

"……What… do you mean?"

"My memories came back."

In that instant, every motion of Lyssel's stopped.