Chapter 14

"Oh, this is Ether Lecashe. Ether, say hello?"

Iberin gave him a little nudge from behind, but shy as he was, Ether just clung tight to her hand and offered a tiny greeting.

"Hewwo. I'm Ether Lecasi."

"It's a pleasure to serve you, young master."

The difference between this greeting and the one he'd given her was night and day.

The Loyetti family had been butlers for generations, and there was no way he'd lived in the capital without hearing the rumors about Iberin, so the attitude didn't strike her as particularly strange.

Ether, for his part, didn't seem to dislike the warm reception from Pons—he kept stealing little glances his way.

"You must be tired from the long journey. Please get some good rest tonight."

She'd thought Lyssel might at least show his face for the new butler, but he never came out, and the brief welcome wrapped up without him.

---

A letter arrived from Baron Elvin Pletanin.

He had set out, but trouble with the carriage had stranded him in some village along the way.

He'd written to apologize that he wouldn't make it on time.

The village he was stuck in wasn't far from the capital, which meant it would be quite a while before he showed up.

Iberin had been planning to host him properly first and then take the territorial tour, but with this turn of events, she decided to leave right away.

She passed the news to Lyssel and started packing on the spot.

"Madam."

Lyssel, who never willingly left the east wing, had apparently hauled himself over.

"All packed?"

Iberin gave him a bright smile.

Pons was standing behind him.

The butler hadn't been at the estate long, but he already looked like he belonged.

He followed Lyssel and Ether around like a shadow, and Lyssel—who turned everyone else away—let him stay close.

Generations of family service must've made him bearable, at least.

In any case, Pons stuck so close to the two Lecashes that he and Iberin barely crossed paths.

"Butler. It's been a while."

"Yes. I'll handle the luggage."

Hamong had apparently held a grudge against the surrounding nobles, and Pons seemed to share it—he didn't push back on the territorial visit at all.

If anything, he looked pleased about it.

"Hnng, Mommyyy! Don't gooo…"

Of course, some people were pushing back. Their fiercest opponent, Rotte, had recruited an ally in the meantime.

Iberin shot her a glare, but Rotte just stayed in the back with the most shameless look on her face, using Ether as her front line.

"Ether. Mommy will be back soon."

"No!"

"Now, now. Ether, I said no."

"Why…?"

"Mommy's not going for fun."

"But, but, Ether doesn't wanna be alone… it's scawy."

"You're scared even for a little while?"

"Yes. It's scawy…"

The second Iberin's resolve wobbled even a fraction, Ether tipped right over into full waterworks and tantrum mode.

"Take Ether with you… whaaa!"

Iberin shot Rotte a sideways glance.

Folding now and canceling the trip would basically be handing Rotte a win, and she hated that.

"Fine! Okay, Ether's coming!"

So she announced it.

Rotte chimed in like she'd been waiting for the cue.

"No one knows young Master Ether better than I do. I'll come too."

"Now hold on! I'm the butler!"

Pons flared up at that.

"Butler Pons, you've barely arrived at the estate, and you still don't know much about the young master."

"That's not the point. I'm the butler—of course I should go."

"I can take better care of him. And of you too, Lady Iberin."

"But His Highness clearly needs me—"

"His Highness is a grown man. He's well past the age of needing to be looked after. And I have plenty of experience as a maid—I'll see to everything. Isn't that right, Lady Iberin?"

Pons raised his voice protesting that this was ridiculous, but only then did Iberin realize she'd been outplayed.

---

"Butler. I trust you with the estate while we're gone."

"Yes. Travel safely."

Pons gave the farewell with a glum expression.

The departing party was just the family of three, plus Rotte and Tami.

The Lecashe family didn't really have any knights.

Lyssel alone was the strongest force around, after all.

And the imperial family didn't permit the Lecashe to raise private soldiers, so there wasn't a proper knight order to speak of either.

Despite all that, Lecashe had kept the corrupted Forest of the World Tree under complete control.

Looking at it another way, that was probably exactly why the imperials wouldn't allow private soldiers—because they were too terrifying.

Either way, it was a small group.

The closest territory belonged to Count Alketa.

Also the most insufferable of the bunch.

According to Pons, the count had pulled every dirty trick in the book to get his son into the academy, and the costs had drained him.

So when he ran short trying to push his own kid up the ladder, he turned around and hit innocent Lecashe with damages claims to make up the difference.

(The butler had used this to lobby hard for being taken along on the trip. He'd failed.)

Iberin ground her teeth.

Meanwhile, inside the carriage, a strange little dynamic had been unfolding for a while.

If Iberin didn't talk, no one talked.

Rotte and Tami couldn't ride in the same carriage with them, of course.

They were riding in the cargo car behind, leaving just the three of them in here.

Sharing the same space, an awkwardness she couldn't quite name was making it hard to breathe.

Both Ether and Lyssel seemed to find each other awkward.

Ether was on the shy side too, after all.

Still, Ether hadn't fully written Lyssel off—he kept sneaking little looks his way, checking him out. Lyssel, on the other hand, wouldn't so much as turn his head toward where Ether and Iberin were sitting.

"Um… Grand… Dukey…"

"……"

"Tami gave me this. Do you wanna… eat some…?"

Ether fumbled the snack Tami had packed out of his pocket and held it out to Lyssel.

But Lyssel didn't budge an inch. Ether's face slowly fell, and he quietly pulled his hand back.

It was so cute and so heartbreaking that Iberin's hand twitched up out of habit, ready to clutch her chest.

But every time she did that, everyone around her got startled, so she'd stopped the actual motion and learned to scream internally instead.

Ether was putting in real effort.

This was the same kid who'd said maybe Lyssel would come around if he tried hard enough.

The problem was Lyssel.

Iberin chewed the corner of her lip and shot him a look full of irritation.

{"Can't even out-dad a five-year-old."}(#pkw0664cbo0x)

"…What."

"Oh, that was supposed to stay in my head."

Lyssel had been the one to say her parenting was wrong in the first place.

He clearly hadn't changed his mind on that.

"Do you have any idea how big a deal it is for a kid to offer up his favorite snack? Would it kill you to at least say no thanks?"

"Was that one also a thought that slipped out by mistake?"

"Nope. I already said something, so I'm just saying the rest of it."

"…My position hasn't changed."

Of course.

"I still think doing nothing is better than giving him halfway affection."

He was actually saying this right in front of Ether, no holding back.

Although Ether didn't seem to follow what was being said.

"Your Highness."

"So drop it."

Iberin glared at Lyssel.

Ether at least picked up that the air had gone sour, because he wrapped his arms tightly around Iberin's waist.

She hugged him back and gave up on trying to talk to Lyssel.

She'd been so sure he'd been paying attention to her that day, but somehow he was worse than before.

Iberin sighed, thinking she had no idea what was going on inside his head.

All the way to Count Alketa's territory, Lyssel didn't open his mouth once, leaving Iberin and Ether to chatter back and forth.

---

The sudden visit from Grand Duke Lecashe threw Count Alketa's territory into chaos.

The count, his wife, and their son came out personally to greet them.

"Welcome."

The servants of the count's house kept sneaking curious glances at the rumored Grand Duke they were seeing for the first time.

"But what brings you here without any word in advance?"

The count laughed it off, but he was openly broadcasting his discomfort.

Normally, nobles exchanged letters in advance when arranging visits.

Showing up unannounced like this was, barring the closest of friendships, extremely rude.

"I've come to assess the damage personally."

Lyssel answered flatly.

Count Alketa's face went chalk white.

He'd clearly been bracing for the possibility, but hearing it from Lyssel's own mouth seemed to hit a guilty nerve.

"P-please, do come inside first. We can talk over a meal. You've come such a long way—let me see you properly settled."

In fact, this was the first time a Lecashe had ever come to another house's territory.

"Madam, would you like to chat with me?"

The countess offered a friendly smile.

But this wasn't exactly a social call, and there was no need to sit around laughing and gossiping with the count's family.

Lyssel, never one for small talk, clearly felt the same and shut the offer down cold.

"No. We'll see the damage."

"Y-Your Highness. Surely you must be exhausted from the journey."

"I'm not."

Count Alketa and his wife were sweating bullets, fumbling for what to say.

Every little move they made seemed designed to stall for time.

"Show us right now. Otherwise I'll consider the damages claims fraudulent."

Iberin spoke up, her expression hardening.

The truth was, on the way into the count's territory, the first place they'd stopped was the supposed damage site.

She'd been worried the knights at the entrance might send word ahead and let them stage something.

But damage? The residents had been calmly tending their fields.

The crops were ripening, almost ready for harvest.

"In fact, we've already seen everything."

"Y-Your Highness!"

The count and countess dropped to their knees and started begging for forgiveness.

How does that knee bend so easily. Does the man have any pride at all.

He'd folded the same way last time, and here he was again.

Iberin's brow knit in irritation.

{"My crimes deserve death. Please, just this once, forgive us!"}(#fycub9zoekvv)

"If your crimes deserve death, why are you asking for forgiveness?"

"…P-pardon? Ah, I—I'm so sorry!"

The count and his wife trembled, completely at a loss.

"Madam. What would you like to do?"

Lyssel turned to Iberin and asked.

She hadn't expected him to ask her, so she blinked, then pointed at herself with a finger.

"Me?"

"Yes. I handed over all authority to you, didn't I."

"Ohh, right!"

Iberin smiled brightly and looked down at the count and his wife.

The two of them seemed to grasp that their lives were now in Iberin's hands, and they kept apologizing nonstop.

The countess and her son actually burst into tears.

"Sob, uuh…"

That was the son who'd pulled every dirty trick to get into Servion, the empire's top academy.

The way he was bawling in terror really did make him look like the kind of kid you'd dump a fortune to buy in.

"Tears aren't a get-out-of-jail-free card."

"M-Madam…!"