Chapter 23

Silver hair and blue eyes—the coloring Lecashe would have had too, originally.

The imperial family must've been a uniformly good-looking line, because the emperor was a handsome man for his age.

"So. The first time a Lecashe has set foot in the capital. I've always wanted to see you again, and meeting you like this—it's a welcome thing."

"Yes."

Lyssel answered curtly.

The emperor let out a hearty laugh and praised the labors at the Forest of the World Tree.

He went through a few more pleasantries before getting to the point.

"More importantly—I can't tell you how startled I was when I received your letter. The baron was selected and dispatched by the imperial family, yes, but I never imagined he'd pull something like that. It must have shaken you."

Iberin answered.

"Yes. Whatever it takes, I'll uncover who was behind it. The nerve, pulling that kind of stunt on my son, the future Grand Duke of an entire province."

"…Couldn't the baron have planned it on his own?"

"No. The baron spoke as if a Lecashe being happy was unacceptable, like it was some self-evident truth. He was scheming to turn my son into an emotionless doll who'd just guard the Forest of the World Tree. I'm sure of it. Someone clearly told the baron to operate that way!"

"That feels like quite a leap."

"He also tried to kill me."

"…I have no answer to that. The handling of the baron's house and the six nobles—I'll see to that personally. Could you withdraw the suit? If this gets too noisy, it won't reflect well on Lecashe either, will it?"

Iberin's eyes narrowed.

The emperor clearly wanted to wrap everything up quietly and have Lecashe head back to the Forest of the World Tree.

Drawing attention to Lecashe brought no benefit to the imperial family.

The Forest of the World Tree was land that had dealt immense damage to the Holy Empire thousands of years ago—a stain that also marked where demonkind had once left their tracks.

What the imperial family couldn't handle, Lecashe was handling for them.

Iberin glanced at Lyssel.

He'd been so flat about being told he'd been conditioned and hypnotized.

And he was just as flat now, sitting across from the emperor—who'd almost certainly been orchestrating all of it.

Nothing surfaced in him.

Like a man who didn't know what anger was.

Iberin quietly closed her eyes, opened them again, and looked the emperor in the face without flinching.

"I'm sorry, but I have to file the suit."

"Is your will Lecashe's will?"

The emperor turned his quiet gaze on Lyssel.

Lyssel looked back at the emperor once, then answered, heavy.

"Yes."

The answer came back even less hesitant than expected. The emperor looked clearly thrown, but he smoothed his expression and said,

"…Then you'll be staying in the capital a while."

"That's right."

"Come visit, then. From time to time."

"I will."

"Now that I think of it, your son and our crown prince are close in age. It would be good for them to become friends."

It was clear—since smooth-talking Iberin wasn't going to work, the emperor was pivoting to leverage little Ether.

Iberin had no personal grievance with the crown prince, but honestly, the fact that he'd elbowed past the novel's Ether to win the heroine's love was enough to twist her gut.

"I see."

"How about dinner together?"

Iberin wanted to refuse, but a glance at Ether—his eyes were practically sparkling.

He seemed taken with the idea that the crown prince was his age.

It had been bothering her that Ether had never had a chance to meet a child his own age, growing up in the middle of nowhere.

…Will it be okay?

She was less worried about the crown prince and more worried about what the emperor might pull, but Iberin had a soft spot for Ether.

She glanced at Lyssel.

Lyssel felt her gaze and nodded as if to say it doesn't matter.

What could that old fox possibly pull over dinner?

In the end, Iberin accepted the emperor's invitation.

---

Where Ether had been described as radiating a kind of decadent beauty, the crown prince had been described as a statue the gods had personally sculpted from gold—and he really was dazzlingly handsome.

Of the emperor's many sons and daughters, he was the only one born with silver hair and blue eyes, which was why he'd been made crown prince.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Yelberk Bel Areta."

He was even courteous, and his eyes, when they turned toward Lecashe, were clear of any of the usual prejudice.

How to put it—the kind of person who'd suit being a priest or a holy knight better than an emperor running politics.

Maybe that was why the saintess heroine had been drawn to him.

After brief introductions all around, Yel took his seat.

It was right across from Ether.

"Eat."

The emperor spoke from the head of the table.

Ether kept stealing glances at Yel through the meal, clearly wanting to say something.

Yel must've felt it, because when their eyes met, he gave Ether a small grin.

Still shy, Ether flushed and ducked his head over his plate, then peeked up again.

That was when the emperor spoke.

"I'm not sure if the food is to your liking."

"It's delicious."

"Good to hear. By the way—I wonder if the young master would want to grow close with our Yel?"

"Oh, I-I'd like that!"

"He says so, Yel."

"Thank you, young master. I think it would be wonderful to grow close with you too."

Yel smiled softly as he looked at Ether.

Ether beamed back.

"With the two of them taking to each other like that, how about making the visits regular while you're in the capital?"

The emperor turned to Lyssel and Iberin.

"If Ether's happy, I'm happy. What do you think, Ether?"

"Yes!"

"Then we'll come visit together with Mommy."

"Mhm."

What made Iberin more uneasy than the emperor himself was Yel, smiling like a picture.

---

Surprisingly, the emperor didn't pull any tricks.

Iberin had braced for the worst, and now that the air had let out of her, she rode back to the estate after the meal.

Ether had said he wanted to play with Yel, so there'd be a fair number of visits to the palace during their stay in the capital.

With the summons already on its way to the six nobles, and the trip up to the capital being long, they had plenty of time before the trial.

Was the plan to talk her down somewhere in that window?

"Butler. Have we hired a lawyer?"

"That… won't be easy, I'm afraid."

"Why?"

"It's the Lecashe name…"

Pons trailed off.

With the family's reputation as cursed beings spread far and wide, no one wanted to take the case.

"Even if we pay a lot?"

"Capable lawyers don't need the money."

Nothing's ever simple around here, huh.

Iberin's brow knit in irritation.

"Your Highness."

"Yes."

"This is how garbage your reputation is."

"…Garbage."

Lyssel murmured glumly.

Realistically, deep-rooted prejudice wasn't something you could turn around overnight.

So Iberin figured she'd just have to find a lawyer who was strapped for cash but reasonably skilled.

Not even outstanding. Decent would do.

Their evidence was that solid.

"Time to pound the pavement."

The words were barely out of her mouth before Pons slid a stack of papers over to her.

"I've put together a list of lawyers. I made the rounds at twenty firms today—the most capable lawyers in the capital. All refused, of course. There are about fifty lawyers at B-grade or above."

"How many lawyers are there in total?"

In Areta, unlike Korea, every trial was held in the capital.

The concept of local governments didn't really exist here.

Which meant judges and lawyers were all crammed into the capital.

"Roughly one hundred and fifty people hold a lawyer's license."

Lyssel still looked stunned by the word garbage and had a sulky look on his face.

Iberin tilted her head, puzzled.

Since when does this man react this sensitively to what I say?

She'd meant it, sure, but she hadn't expected it to land. Apparently it had.

"Your Highness."

"Yes."

"Want to come with me tomorrow to look for a lawyer?"

Something about his attitude made her ask, just in case.

"…You'd take me along?"

"Huh?"

Iberin's eyes went round in surprise.

Not I'll come along. You'd take me along?

"Are you sick?"

Come to think of it, lately she'd had the occasional sense that he'd gotten a touch milder.

More specifically, ever since she'd nursed him after the poisoning…

Worried the toxin might not have fully cleared, Iberin asked,

"Huh?"

"…I just assumed you'd refuse."

Lyssel blinked at her, dazed.

If the poison wasn't out of his system, his body was supposed to hurt—not his head go offline.

"Is that strange?"

"I mean—you've been shoving me away every single day and now suddenly you're asking like that. Of course it's strange."

"Lady Iberin."

Pons cut in quietly.

"Yes?"

Iberin whipped her head around, and Pons grinned.

"His Highness, I believe, would like to grow close with you, my lady."

"Huh?"

{"It's a lock."}(#cb7lwflxi4gk)

Where had he picked up phrasing like that.

Pons sounded utterly certain. Iberin spun back to look at Lyssel, and Lyssel was just sitting there, watching her, silent.

"You're not going to say anything?"

"Say what?"

"The butler just said something weird."

"Something weird?"

"He said you want to get close to me. You don't even like me—aren't you going to deny it?"

"I don't dislike you. It's not exactly want to grow close—I find it hard to define, honestly—but it's not entirely wrong either, so I won't deny it."

Wait. What?

He's volleying it back like that?

"All of a sudden?"

"…You changed all of a sudden too."

Iberin's mouth dropped open and stayed that way.

---

And so began the great lawyer hunt.

Nothing about this was easy.

Tenth firm, tenth refusal.

Even lawyers desperate for money tucked their tails the moment they heard the name Lecashe.

She wasn't even asking for proper representation—just submit the evidence, say a few words in court, that was it—and still nothing.

"At this rate we'll be turned away by all hundred and fifty."

Iberin ran her hands through her hair.

Lyssel, who'd been quietly watching her, said,

"You should go back and rest. I'll look into this."

"No thanks."

He used to be a brick wall, and now he was tiptoeing around her instead.

Iberin had no idea which tune to dance to.

"Anyway, why the sudden interest in getting close to me?"

She'd held it in as long as she could.

She hadn't had a comeback when he'd pointed out she'd changed suddenly too, but the question was burning in her.

"It's not… sudden…"

Lyssel answered slowly.

"Then since when?"

There was mischief in Iberin's eyes, but Lyssel didn't catch it and mumbled,

"Do I… have to say?"

"No, well, I'm curious. Should I take a guess?"

"Yes."

"When I nursed you?"

"…Not entirely wrong."

"Wait, not entirely wrong—you mean it was before that?"

Lyssel looked away, pleading the fifth.

"Wow. So you've been playing coy this whole time."

Iberin clapped her hands in amazement.

"Playing coy… How does that even—"

Lyssel looked thoroughly baffled.

Iberin let out a small pfft.

"What's wrong with playing coy? I happen to like coy men."

That was when it happened.

They'd wandered into an alley searching for lawyers, and from somewhere deeper inside, voices drifted out.

Both of them stopped talking instantly and exchanged a look.

Lyssel peeked into the alley first, then turned back to Iberin.

What is it?

She mouthed it silently, and Lyssel beckoned her over.

Iberin craned her neck and looked.

Some beggar was getting beaten on by back-alley thugs.

"You borrow money, you pay it back! Big fancy lawyer, huh? Huh?! Out-of-work beggar bastard!"

Lawyer!

Iberin's eyes flew wide.