Chapter 22

"You answered just now?"

"……."

"Wow. Huge."

Ether still seemed a little tongue-tied around Lyssel, fidgeting, but eventually gave a small greeting.

"H-hello…"

Lyssel ignored him and looked at Iberin.

"Why are you here."

It was the same question as ever, and the energy drained right out of Iberin.

Of course.

"What. Nothing's really changed, huh. Heard you were awake and came to see if you were okay. You're not in pain?"

"No."

"Not at all? Nothing even feels off…?"

"I'm fine."

"Then let's go."

"What? Where?"

"The capital. I've had everything ready to go the second you woke up. I filed a suit against Elvin! Sure, he's already dead! And on the way up, I'm suing the six nobles too! Might as well make myself queen of lawsuits while I'm at it."

Iberin grinned, and Lyssel blinked slowly.

He looked thrown.

---

Lyssel looked impossibly fresh for someone who'd been unconscious for days.

The physician had said roughly a week of rest would be ideal, but Lyssel really did seem fine.

"I made you soup."

Iberin, however, was fretting that the strain of the trip might still be lingering and couldn't sit still.

Every one of Iberin's gestures left Lyssel squirming with secondhand embarrassment.

He wasn't used to any of it.

Someone worrying about him?

It wasn't a category of thing he'd ever once thought about in his entire life.

Lyssel wasn't the type anyone would worry about, either.

And he'd assumed her offer to nurse him was just lip service, but seeing Iberin actually throw herself into it, he felt like he had to be fine even when he wasn't.

"You… made it yourself?"

"Yes. I had a proper lesson from the head chef, so it shouldn't be bad. I'm actually pretty good when I put my mind to something."

Iberin smiled, all confidence, and set the bowl of soup on the table.

"Want to eat in bed?"

"No, I can manage on my own, so if you'd—"

"Eat with me."

"That's not necessary—"

"It'll be bad once it goes cold."

Faced with Iberin's near-tearful expression, Lyssel let out a deep sigh.

This standoff had been going on for two days now.

Lyssel always lost. He'd refuse tirelessly, then fail to look away from Iberin's pleading eyes and give her exactly what she wanted.

"How is it?"

Lyssel sat at the table and scooped a spoonful of soup into his mouth.

Honestly, Iberin would've loved to play full nurse and spoon-feed him herself, but if she tried, Lyssel would chuck the spoon and bolt, so she clamped down on the urge.

She'd still wanted to feed him soup she'd made with her own hands, though, so she'd put herself through a full day of intensive training with the head chef.

"Is it bad?"

Lyssel didn't say a word, just kept eating.

She'd snuck a taste before bringing it in, and it had seemed fine.

Maybe it wasn't to his liking—Iberin's eyes darted around.

Lyssel snuck a look at her and answered, low.

"…It's."

"…?"

"Good."

"Really? You're not just lying because it's bad?"

"…No."

"Then why are you being so careful? You're making me nervous."

"……."

Iberin pushed out her lower lip and grumbled, but Lyssel didn't add anything—he just quietly polished off the entire bowl.

Watching the empty bowl, Iberin broke into a sunny smile.

Then Lyssel said,

"Aren't you leaving."

Of all the mood-killing things to say. Iberin's face hardened, and she grabbed the bowl and stood up.

"I'm going. I'm going."

Lyssel, clearly uncomfortable having her there, made no secret of it and tried any way he could to push her out.

Once the door finally shut and Iberin was gone, Lyssel let out a sigh, slumped down, and thought:

Can I really keep my distance from her?

Honestly, he wasn't sure.

---

Exactly one week later, Lyssel refused any further nursing.

He wasn't even sick. There was no need for her to keep going to all this trouble.

They had to head to the capital anyway, so Iberin accepted it.

Preparations were already long done. All that was left was getting into the carriage.

The party going with them was small.

Even counting the physician who'd be looking after Iberin's health, and Tami, it was still a modest group.

Rotte said the capital scared her.

There was a real chance the certain gentleman she'd mentioned still remembered her, so this trip would be made with Butler Pons instead.

Lyssel didn't seem thrilled about going to the capital, but he didn't say anything.

With the Elvin business, and now knowing he'd been conditioned all those years—was he feeling some urge to defy the imperial family?

Well, Lyssel never said much, so it was just speculation on Iberin's part.

After nearly a week on the road, they arrived in the capital.

Ether, who'd only ever known the Forest of the World Tree, was wide-eyed as they passed through cities.

The capital felt like a whole other world to him.

Even Iberin, after only ever seeing forest and underbrush, found it striking to be out.

"Whoa, this is the capital?"

There were so many people.

Ether's eyes were practically spinning—he'd been living somewhere well past rural, basically the middle of nowhere.

"Yes, young master. That's right."

Pons had lived in the capital for quite a while and knew his way around, so he'd be a great help.

"Then should we hit the courthouse first?"

"Allow me to lead the way."

On the way up, they'd checked in on what the six nobles were doing—the rumors had spread well beyond containment by now.

They had to be pacing in circles.

Iberin smiled wickedly.

Anyway, the three of them stood at the courthouse intake counter, holding hands (more or less).

She picked up the paperwork and tried to read it, but Iberin was practically illiterate—she could barely make out a handful of characters.

"…Could you fill this out?"

She handed the paper to Lyssel.

Lyssel filled it out and passed it to the clerk.

The clerk checked the name, then jerked his head up, confirmed Lyssel, gave a small shudder, and asked,

"S-Sir, are you Grand Duke Lecashe? Is this really you?"

Lyssel gave a silent nod.

"…You're filing a suit?"

"That's right."

"Against the six nobles of the Gelta region and Baron Elvin Pletanin, is that correct?"

"Correct."

He also threw a glance at Iberin and Ether beside him.

He probably wanted to know how they were related.

The clerk asked a few more questions and seemed to hesitate, then stamped received with a heavy thump.

"R-received."

"Thanks for your help!"

Iberin laughed, lighter for it, and turned away with a spring in her step.

---

After their stop at the courthouse, they arrived at the estate the family kept in the capital.

This was, in effect, the first time any Lecashe had visited the capital estate.

Some of the staff working there hadn't even realized this was the Lecashe estate.

So when word came that the Grand Duke himself was on his way, the shock was something else.

Pons had stayed there long enough that they all knew him, but the family the butler served being Lecashe—that they hadn't seen coming.

"…W-welcome, Your Highness!"

The capital estate staff, greeting their master for the first time, were standing ramrod straight.

The estate was reasonably large and tastefully old-fashioned.

It looked well kept, too.

The moment Iberin stepped in, she flinched at the line of servants who greeted her with these stiff, shoulder-squared bows that looked like they'd been pulled straight from a gangster movie.

Then she caught their I am so nervous right now expressions and let out a small laugh.

"Thank you all for the warm welcome. I'm Iberin Sherburn Lecashe, and this is my son, Ether. Ether, say hello."

When Iberin spoke, Ether bowed his head and gave his greeting.

"Hewwo. I'm Ether Lecasi."

All the attention on him made him a little bashful—pink cheeks, fingers fidgeting—every bit of it adorable.

The staff thought, Oh, the atmosphere is brighter than expected.

"Your Highness, you should greet them too."

Iberin gave Lyssel, who'd been standing there blankly, a small jab to the side.

Lyssel reacted the instant she poked him, like a doll with a string.

"…Lyssel Lecashe."

"I know we showed up without notice. I'm sorry for the surprise. Please take good care of us while we're here."

"Yes. We'll do our very best to serve you."

The family seemed more peaceful than expected, and the staff felt the tension melt out of their shoulders.

"Mommy, Ether's tired…"

"Aw, my Ether's tired? Should we head off to bed?"

"Yes."

They'd vaguely pictured the Grand Duke as hideously ugly or monster-like, but the man was painfully handsome, and his son was just a normal little boy his age.

Most of all, the Grand Duchess—rumored everywhere to be terminally ill—looked so bright and warm.

---

When she opened her eyes, a letter from the emperor was waiting.

He'd been surprised by the sudden visit to the capital.

"He already knows?"

Iberin muttered, rubbing her eyes the second she saw the letter.

"The express letter we sent before departing has likely arrived. And it seems the courthouse clerk spread the word—most of the major nobles already know."

What a loose mouth.

Not that it really changed anything if word got out.

Iberin yawned the thought off, stretched, and rolled her neck with a series of small cracks.

"He's asking us to come by."

"Shall I get things ready?"

It was, after all, a case of Lecashe filing a suit against nobles.

There was no way that hadn't reached the emperor's ears.

She'd sent the express letter right before leaving, but she hadn't exactly asked permission.

Given how serious the matter was, time was of the essence should hold up well enough. The emperor couldn't really get angry, Iberin figured.

The tutor sent by the imperial family was the problem, after all.

"Mm, yeah. I'm a little curious what the emperor looks like, anyway. Did you pass word to His Highness too?"

"Yes. His Highness is already up and getting ready."

Right—Lyssel was an early riser to an almost ridiculous degree.

Iberin still hadn't quite shaken the road fatigue, her whole body felt stiff, and meanwhile he was up and pointlessly productive.

She threw on a simple dress, ate breakfast, and just as she was about finished getting ready, Ether came pattering over and latched onto her waist.

"Ether, are you coming too?"

"Yep."

Ether had become Iberin's perfect little tag-along, and he always wanted to come whenever she was doing something.

It wasn't a problem, exactly, but she wasn't keen on showing the imperial family their darling Ether just yet.

"Then, kiss!"

Smooch.

Ether kissed her cheek without hesitation.

Iberin broke into a wide, goofy grin and held out her hand.

---

Iberin had supposedly set out to meet the emperor, but she stopped by a restaurant on the grounds that they should eat something good first, then wandered through the market because there were so many pretty things.

Ether was still a child, so whatever Iberin suggested, he went along with happily.

Lyssel did point out once that they ought to be getting on with it, but Iberin's confident attitude that they just had to make it sometime today left him with nothing to say.

That was how, slightly later in the afternoon, Iberin's group entered the palace and was granted an immediate audience.

She'd been curious what kind of person he'd be, and the emperor looked down at Lecashe with a gentle expression.

"You've come."