Chapter 40

"Why don't you pick? They'll be your subordinates to manage when you take the throne anyway."

"…I'll do that."

The answer must've pleased him, because the emperor pulled one corner of his mouth up into a smile.

"Thought you'd come back at me with something pathetic, but no."

"I'm seven now."

"You are. More importantly, with Civelli dead, there's no one left to reinforce the hypnosis next time Lecashe causes trouble…"

The emperor brooded.

He'd never been particularly pleased with the Grand Duchess, and this had pushed her clean out of his good graces.

He wanted to handle her one way or another, but to do that he needed a faction aligned with him.

Getting rid of Iberin was nothing in itself, but Lyssel beside her was the snag.

The man was simply too strong physically — almost no one alive could match him.

With Iberin alone in the capital, this was the perfect window, but if he moved on her, there was no telling what an un-hypnotized Lyssel might do.

He'd surely suspect the emperor first.

The emperor furrowed his brow and slammed a hand down on the table.

Yel said,

"Things will work out somehow. Compose yourself."

"Hh. Yes. Can't let myself get worked up and botch this."

Excitement made it impossible to judge clearly.

This was all because that Civelli fool had thrown himself around without an ounce of sense.

The emperor pressed down hard on the surge of anger and let out a breath.

"Then — may I take my leave?"

"…Go."

But neither of them knew.

That originally, Yel was supposed to learn the truth only after he'd come of age.

The original story had already been bent every which way.

What direction it would twist the narrative in next, no one could say.

---

The most talked-about people in the capital right now were Marquis Civelli and his marquise, Emily.

Now that she was divorced, she wasn't the marquise — she was Emily Balkan.

"Nais! Congratulations on opening your practice."

The next person to make a name for himself was Nais, the lawyer.

He'd brilliantly won a trial everyone had thought he'd lose, and word that he also defended commoners had pushed his fame even higher.

"Thank you."

He'd gotten an office set up before Iberin left.

Emily had given him a hefty sum as a victory fee for representing her, so for the time being he could get by just taking pro bono cases for people in tough spots.

On top of that, Nais now had a powerful house at his back.

"By the way, Lecashe's reputation has gone up a little. You've got something to celebrate too, my lady."

The news that Nais was a Lecashe-affiliated lawyer had nudged Lecashe's image among commoners up by the width of an ant's tear, but up nonetheless.

"Still a long way to go. With Nais in the capital, though, maybe I can hope for a little more?"

"Trust me with it!"

Nais thumped his chest with his fist as he said it.

"I'm glad I got to see Nais open his practice before heading back."

"I'm happy too."

"You're a capable lawyer. I know you'll do well."

Everything had wrapped up, and Iberin's health had improved at just the right time. She was using the window to leave the capital.

She still ran a low fever now and then, but she wasn't coughing blood anymore, and the cough itself had almost stopped.

"My lady! It's time to go!"

The butler called from in front of the carriage, where he'd been waiting.

Iberin said a quick goodbye to Nais, turned around, and smiled.

She was finally going back.

---

She hadn't realized the road from the capital to the territory was this long.

Iberin was burning to see Ether.

That was probably why she pestered the coachman every hour.

Are we close yet?

In doing so, she pulled off the small miracle of completing a two-week ride in a single week.

"Mommy!"

"Ether!"

Iberin called out the name of the child running at her and laughed, bright with happiness, as she gathered him into her arms.

"I missed you!"

"I missed Ether so much too."

Iberin dabbed at the corners of her eyes and murmured.

Life without Ether was a bean bun without the bean paste.

The kids from the orphanage had pulled her through — without them, she really might've died of it.

"Sniff."

She couldn't believe it had been more than two months since she'd seen this adorable face.

"Mommy, you're crying…?"

"Hng. Ether…"

"Why're you crying? Are you still sick?"

"Because seeing Ether's making me happy…"

"Heh, Ether's so happy to see Mommy too!"

The staff were welcoming Iberin's return as well.

Rotte, especially, was crying just like Iberin.

She'd already been torn up about not being able to go to the capital with her, and then for Iberin to suddenly fall ill there and not be able to come back — it must've eaten at her endlessly.

On top of which, she'd heard the capital was in an uproar over Marquis Civelli, and that had made it worse.

Iberin stumbled over to Rotte and pulled her into a hug.

"My lady…"

When Rotte fell into Iberin's arms with a face full of feeling, the other staff edged closer to her too.

Iberin gathered all of them in too.

"Wahh!"

It turned into a sudden sea of tears.

With everyone wrapped in her arms, crying out every last tear and sniffle, Iberin felt a shadow fall over her and lifted her head.

"…Welcome back."

It was Lyssel.

"Your Highness, want to come over here too?"

{Iberin sniffled and gestured at her arms, which had no room left in them.}(#od7284qmep6u)

---

Iberin's homecoming party had been prepared in grand style.

After a long stretch of being all tangled up together and crying, they finally went inside. The interior was even more polished and gleaming than usual.

On top of that, it was decked out with lavish decorations and flowers.

"Oh."

Moved all over again, Iberin sniffled, feeling tears welling up.

Lecashe had always been a quiet place.

There was never going to be a grand party with nobles gathering here.

It was a noble house, so they did have a ballroom, but apparently this was the first time it had been used in thousands of years.

"Thank you all so much."

Iberin looked around at the staff, who must've gone to such trouble.

"We're the grateful ones — that you came back safely. Do you have any idea how worried we were?"

She just barely held back another welling of tears. Iberin took the seat of honor the staff led her to, between Lyssel and Ether.

"…This is nice."

Looking down on the room from the dais, she had to laugh.

"You like it?"

Lyssel had been watching her, and only her, the whole time.

"Yes. The truth is, I went to Duke Cherity's party."

"How was it?"

"It was more lavish over there, but I like our home better."

She meant it.

Unlike House Cherity, which had felt like a textbook definition of a noble's party, this was rough around every edge — but it was lovely.

"…Our home?"

Lyssel murmured it, almost dazed.

Iberin caught the small mutter and glanced over at him.

"Yes. Why — am I not a Lecashe?"

"No."

Lyssel shook his head in a hurry, and Ether, grunting with effort, climbed up onto Iberin's lap.

"What is it, Ether?"

"I wanna stick close to Mommy."

"Pfft. This is so nice."

"Hehe."

Once the hall had settled into some order, Rotte gestured to the side.

♫♬

Music started up.

Lecashe didn't have a court orchestra, so a handful of staff who could play instruments personally were going at it however they liked.

It was a tangle of dissonance, but for some reason laughter never stopped in the room.

How long had she been laughing? Iberin looked at the two little burrs glued to her sides with no apparent plan to detach.

"Your Highness."

"Yes."

Come to think of it, even the fact that Lyssel — who'd spent every day holed up in the East Wing — had come out to greet her was astonishing.

A late wave of emotion hit her, and Iberin pulled Lyssel into a tight hug.

The sudden hug left Lyssel looking lost.

The look on his face cracked Iberin up all over again.

"What is it? Are you hurting somewhere?"

Lyssel didn't push her off — he asked it carefully.

It was a question full of worry.

"I came back because I'm okay."

"…Then why, all of a sudden?"

"Just — because I'm grateful."

"I'm the grateful one."

"No, I'm the grateful one!"

"…All right."

A quick concession.

Iberin couldn't keep down the laughter that kept slipping out.

Lyssel was still in her embrace.

Or rather, she was the one curled into him, technically.

"Want to dance, you and me?"

Everyone was happily doing as they pleased, and she wanted in on it too.

"We threw a party, but please don't push yourself too hard."

"I haven't pushed myself at all. Oh — though, I don't think I've ever danced."

"Same here."

"So it's a first for both of us."

"Yes."

"Then want to give it a go together?"

"Sure."

Lyssel had never danced at a banquet, but he remembered learning the basics as a child.

He didn't tend to forget things he'd been taught once, and the steps came back clean to his head.

"You take my hand."

Lyssel, the one who'd been asked to dance, held out his hand, and Iberin clasped it.

That was when Ether — who'd been refusing to budge from Iberin's side — popped his head up.

"Mommy, what about Ether?"

The face he was making said clearly don't leave me out, and Iberin's eyes rolled around helplessly.

"His Highness has to go away."

"…You go."

"No!"

"I asked first."

"No!"

Watching the two of them suddenly bickering, Iberin cracked up again.

The sight of it looked like they'd warmed up to each other to some degree, and she smiled brighter than she had when everyone had welcomed her home.

---

The short dance ended, and Iberin sat down at the spot they'd set up — so she could rest the moment she got tired — and ate.

A feast in the ballroom.

There'd been good food at Duke Cherity's party too, but it was basically simple things like cake and crêpes.

Here, they were going all the way to a flambé show with steak.

Iberin was in love with this moment.

What she'd felt right before the dance hadn't been her imagination.

The Lecashe father and son seemed to have started accepting each other's existence in their own way.

Ether was just blissed out and grinning because Iberin was smiling, and Lyssel's eyes wouldn't come off her.

Iberin chewed a piece of steak Lyssel had cut for her, then asked,

"Ether, did His Highness kiss you every day?"

After asking, she glanced over at Lyssel — the tips of his ears had gone red and he was very pointedly looking elsewhere.