Chapter 36

"My youngest brother left a letter before he died. Begging for help. Saying something was off about my husband…"

"……Ah."

"I looked into it myself, but from a certain point on, my memory got patchy in strange ways. And I realized — at this rate, one day it'll be me."

And Emily had said she was the fourth marquise.

The three before her had died of various causes.

"The marquis must be hesitating."

"What?"

"You're his fourth wife. The first three died. And if a fourth dies as well?"

However polished his image, that wouldn't pass without damage.

It was only because Civelli was a man and one of the emperor's favored nobles that everyone was keeping quiet.

"……Ah."

"That's why he's watching and waiting instead of killing you. The moment you become enough of a thorn in his side, reputation be damned, he'll do it."

"But Ibel."

"Yes?"

"Why did you try to learn about Civelli through me?"

"For a similar reason to yours. He touched my family. It seems we might be in the same boat. What do you say? Want to come along?"

The more allies, the better.

"I figured he wasn't right in the head, but going after Lecashe? Good for me, though."

Emily blinked a few times, then smiled and reached out to clasp Iberin's hand.

"Shall we share what we each know?"

---

Whatever Emily had forgotten would contain Roto Civelli's wrongdoings.

He'd clearly used hypnosis to erase her memories.

If he'd come to Lecashe as a tutor and laid down full conditioning, ordinary hypnosis would be nothing to him.

"Hypnosis, huh."

How could someone learn it well enough to manipulate a person's mind, even their memories?

And tracing it back to Lyssel's father, the history of this hypnosis ran long.

"Areta brands magic as heresy and shuns it, but what would happen if it came out that the empire's been using hypnotists and shamans they treat as charlatans?"

"All hell breaks loose."

Iberin tapped her fingers against the table.

"Not now, though."

She needed more than suspicion — she needed solid evidence.

For that, she had to follow Roto Civelli properly.

Emily, it turned out, hadn't known her husband was a hypnotist either.

When Iberin told her, she startled hard.

True to a citizen of the Holy Empire, her expression had twisted into pure disgust.

"Is there any way to recover her memories besides finding another hypnotist?"

"I don't know much about hypnosis myself either. They're classified as charlatans, so getting hold of anything written about it is like plucking stars from the sky."

"The conditioning on Lecashe should probably be dealt with somehow too."

The residue of that conditioning was going to trip them up at a crucial moment.

There was no way the emperor didn't know that.

"Finding a hypnotist won't be easy either."

"It won't. Civelli is an exceptional case. Generally, hypnotists are shunned, so they hide. A mediocre hypnotist won't be of any use. Conditioning that's already been laid down can only be broken by a stronger hypnotist."

If they ever caught Roto Civelli, the emperor would be dragged in with him, making him that much harder to bring down.

And if they did manage it, he'd almost certainly try to sever the tail to save the head.

But even that wouldn't be the worst outcome.

It would at least mean no one was left to jerk Lecashe around.

---

"The children have arrived."

"Have they? Bring them in."

The orphanage children, here for a visit.

Iberin's condition for sponsorship had been that the children come to the Lecashe estate once a week.

She loved children to begin with, and she wanted them to have a good time.

She was, admittedly, also conscious of the rumors.

Not everything would change overnight, but it would get better in time.

"H-hello…!"

When the door opened and the children came in, they were dressed in tidy clothes.

The orphanage staff must have cleaned them up before sending them over.

"Hello. Is there anything you'd like to do?"

Iberin asked, but the children stayed silent like little statues, watching her.

"I figured this might happen, so I prepared something. Is that all right?"

Still no answer.

Iberin smiled, brushing it off, and got to her feet.

The children, who'd been standing rigid, flinched as one.

"My body isn't well enough for anything too active…"

She led them out toward the kitchen.

Since they were between five and seven, baking cookies seemed like a good fit — but the closer they got to the kitchen, the more the children's faces drained of color, until a few of them dropped to the floor and began to wail, refusing to go any further.

"What…"

Iberin froze, then remembered the rumors and said,

"Nothing scary's happening. It's something fun, kids."

"……."

"Mm, then how about just a few of you check it out first?"

"……."

"It's no fun on my own…"

She'd put thought into it, and the prospect of all of them refusing was making her glum.

But if they didn't want to… maybe she'd just head to the garden and have some tea, she thought, just as one small child raised a hand.

"I'll go in first."

"Oh? Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The child looked a little frightened, but nodded firmly and marched into the kitchen.

"Wow…"

A small awed sound drifted out.

"How is it?"

"Smells yummy. What's this?"

"I thought we could make cookies together."

"Cookies?"

"Sweet, tasty little treats."

"…But these look like they're already made?"

"I asked the head chef to make some ahead of time so you could snack while you work."

Iberin picked one up and brought it to the child's mouth.

Apparently the sweet, fragrant smell was too much to resist — his mouth opened on its own and took a bite.

"Yummy…!"

His eyes flew wide with shock.

He grabbed another and started chomping away.

"Guys! There's tons of yummy stuff in here. Come on in!"

He shouted out to the others.

With cookie crumbs all over his mouth, his call brought the children outside — who'd been crying just moments before — drying their tears and edging closer.

"Feel like coming in now?"

"……."

"I'll just sit right here. Have fun."

She would've loved to bake with them, but it wasn't one or two children — there were a good six of them.

It wasn't physical play, but the strain was still more than her body could take, and everyone had been against her joining in.

"Oof. Touch this."

"Whoa, it's all squishy!"

"Hehehe."

As if they'd never cried or been scared a moment ago, the children shrieked and laughed.

A few were elbow-deep in cookie dough; others were busy stuffing themselves with the cookies and cake already laid out.

Iberin watched them with a soft smile, thinking it felt like long-overdue healing.

---

Soon enough, the orphanage children were the ones begging to come to her estate.

Iberin would occasionally visit the orphanage herself with treats for everyone.

She also counseled the older children who'd soon be aging out and helped them find jobs, so she became enormously popular there.

In the meantime, her health had recovered to a manageable level.

"You're hardly running a fever anymore."

"Am I fully healed? Can I head back to Lecashe?"

"Mm, let's give it another week. If you're still doing well then, you should be able to."

"But I haven't accomplished anything yet."

Two months had slipped by.

Civelli's tail still hadn't been caught, and the trail was going cold.

"That's not entirely true."

"Ah — the children?"

"Yes. They don't tolerate anyone speaking ill of you."

"How am I going to leave the capital?"

"True. I think I've grown attached too."

It would've been nice to stay longer.

Honestly, the rumors weren't the kind that would fade easily.

Deep-rooted prejudice against Lecashe wasn't going to vanish just because Iberin had done a few good deeds.

For the people who'd actually known her up close, yes — but not for everyone.

That was why the orphanage children had come to genuinely love her.

The people who watched closely always knew best whether someone really was what the rumors said.

Iberin had never expected to change everyone's mind. This was enough.

She held on to the hope that things would change a little more, bit by bit.

The door opened and a maid came in, hurrying her along.

"This isn't the time to dawdle."

"Right, right. I'll get ready."

"This way, please."

Today was Duke Cherity's birthday party.

The Cherity duchy stood at the peak of imperial power, but Iberin had no real interest in it. The reason she'd scrambled for an invitation was that Marquis Roto Civelli would be attending.

"I'm worried."

The butler couldn't keep the worry off his face.

"I'll stay quiet, just confirm Civelli's there, and come back."

"Still — there's no way House Cherity didn't see your name on the guest list…"

"They didn't object, so it's probably fine?"

"…Haa."

House Cherity was famously the house that loathed Lecashe more than any other.

Or rather — they didn't so much loathe Lecashe as worship their god with a fanatic's devotion.

Which meant they had no warm feelings toward a house carrying the opposite kind of energy.

Lecashe holed up in the Forest of the World Tree, and Cherity never coming near it.

They'd never tangled before.

But now Iberin, the Grand Duchess, was attending the heir's birthday party.

It was natural for the butler to worry.

"The Cherity family aren't your usual brand of lunatic."

"My ears are tired of hearing it."

"Why aren't they blocking it? You realize that's the unsettling part?"

It couldn't be that much of a problem, Iberin thought.