Chapter 50

It wasn't as strong as the tremor before.

She had no idea what made the difference in intensity, exactly.

In any case, Iberin understood it now — knowing the god's name was what had caused something like before to happen.

Which meant the books were right: no one had known the god's name.

In the original she'd read, someone had already found it out.

So who was that, then? But if I'm doing it now, then the person who found the god's name in the original disappears, and that means—

"…That's me?!"

Whaaat?!

Iberin yelped without meaning to, then forced herself to calm down and think.

The original never reveals who found the god's name. And I just stole that role. Not on purpose, but… all right — what changes when I call the god's name?

So far there didn't seem to be any obvious effect…

She knew nothing, and nothing was known.

The only things Iberin had were the god's name, Demedeto, and the fact that Lecashe carried that god's seed as the gatekeepers of the forest.

Granted, this was massive in its own right and hadn't been public knowledge, but for the moment it didn't seem to do her any good.

Even if she told anyone, who'd believe her?

She'd be lucky if they didn't point at Lecashe and say they'd lost their minds.

Her thoughts kept chaining one onto the next.

Just then —

"Iberin?"

Lyssel was back.

"You still haven't gone to sleep? What are you doing?"

He looked thrown to find Iberin planted right there in his bedroom.

"I waited up for you."

Rotte and the butler had tried, more than once, to convince her that Lyssel would handle himself fine and she should just go to bed — but her stubborn streak had won. Iberin had practically forced them both to go rest.

Like the two of them, Lyssel clearly hadn't expected her to be waiting for him.

"For me? Why?"

"Coming back to nobody is lonely, isn't it?"

"I've never given it any thought."

"You've never had anyone to wait for you."

"…Well, no, but."

"From now on I'll do it."

"You don't have to. You're not well."

"This much is fine. More importantly — you're back early?"

"…I felt another tremor. I was worried something might've happened at the estate."

Iberin froze where she stood.

Lyssel didn't miss the flicker, and his eyes sharpened.

"Did something happen?"

"N-no! Nothing like that!"

"Truly."

"Yes, yes. I felt the tremor too, but really, nothing happened."

"…Ah."

He seemed to accept it, and Iberin quickly turned the conversation.

"Did you find anything in the forest?"

She was curious too.

"No, it was peaceful."

"That's a relief."

"…I'm not sure if it is. The monsters that would normally be on a rampage barely stirred at all, and that makes me uneasy."

"…Really?"

"Yes. For the time being I think I'll need to cut back on my other work and spend more time in the Forest of the World Tree."

"That sounds best."

"Yes."

A short silence settled between them.

Iberin shut up because she was suddenly self-conscious; Lyssel stayed quiet because having Iberin in his bedroom was awkward.

In the end, Lyssel was the one who broke it by getting to his feet.

"I'll head back out."

"Wait — you're not sleeping? You're going back out?"

"I only stopped in because I was worried."

"Then when are you coming back?"

It was already late.

"That's why I'm telling you — don't wait, just sleep. I'm glad I came by, though."

"…Still."

"It's all right."

Iberin couldn't shake the worry on her face and asked if he wouldn't just stay and sleep, but Lyssel held firm.

"Managing the forest is my job. What if something happens because I left it alone? And what if you get hurt because of that?"

"…That's hard to argue with."

"So get some sleep, all right?"

Iberin nodded reluctantly.

"Then I'll sleep here."

"I'm sorry?"

"What? We're married, and we slept in the same bed last time."

"……That was."

"You're saying no?"

She figured if she slept in Lyssel's room, she'd at least know when he got back.

He wasn't even being asked to sleep together — she was talking about sleeping there alone — and he was still hesitating, which she found fascinating.

How they'd ever managed to have Ether, given the level of awkwardness here, was its own mystery.

"All right."

In any case, the current Lyssel was helpless against Iberin.

In the end he gave up his bed.

"You have to be asleep. If you're awake when I come back, I'll be angry."

Even then, worried she'd wait until he returned, he tossed out what was more or less a threat on his way out.

---

Iberin's eyes flew open.

She'd fallen asleep without realizing it.

When she looked over, Lyssel was sitting at the table going through paperwork.

A glance at the time showed it was still morning, and he was already at work.

"When did you come in?"

"While you were sleeping, Iberin."

"Well, obviously!"

"I was worried you'd be waiting up again, but you were fast asleep."

"……."

She lost the ability to speak for a beat.

It wasn't a big deal, but it felt vaguely embarrassing.

Lyssel seemed to feel it too — he cleared his throat awkwardly and turned his eyes back to his paperwork.

"Now that you're up, eat. And take your medicine."

"…Where are the kids?"

"With the butler, most likely."

"So you didn't come back super late, right?"

"No. I searched the forest thoroughly and there was nothing. So I came back quickly."

That tracked.

"I'll keep watching the area for a while, though."

"…Got it. By the way, Your Highness."

"Yes."

While she'd been waiting for Lyssel, she'd done some thinking — and decided she needed to investigate the forest herself.

The name Demedeto had triggered a response from the forest.

Which meant there might be traces of the god there.

She couldn't very well explain the tremor to Lyssel.

If he asked her how she knew the god's name, Iberin wouldn't have any decent answer to give.

So she needed another excuse — a good cover for going into the forest.

She wracked her brain until her head pounded, but nothing Lyssel would accept came to her.

"…Could I go into the forest with you?"

"Absolutely not."

"Yeah, called it—"

Iberin stopped and stared at him.

"Did I just say that out loud?"

"You did. And no."

"What if—"

"No."

"What if I went with you, Lyssel?"

"No."

"I'll glue myself to your side and not move an inch."

"No."

Like some kind of no robot, the refusals came down the moment her words ended, without a flicker of thought.

But Iberin knew Lyssel had quietly gone soft on her.

She knew if she asked a few more times, he'd cave.

But for now she decided to back off.

Because even if she somehow talked Lyssel around, the others were guaranteed to push back.

Ether and Rozelia, and the butler and Rotte on top of them.

Plenty of mountains left to climb.

Somehow she felt like she might cry.

---

If she was going to convince anyone, her health had to come first.

Iberin's current physical state was a hair above newborn giraffe.

She couldn't move much, and she tired out fast.

Since she wasn't moving, digestion suffered, and the amount of food she could eat had dropped considerably.

But this wasn't going to go away — it would stay with her like a chronic illness unless the tainted holy power was resolved.

"Rotte—"

"No."

"I haven't said anything yet!"

"You were about to ask to go into the forest, weren't you?"

"…Hmph."

She'd been hounding anyone she could grab the past few days, singing the same song about wanting to go into the forest — and now everyone shut her down the moment they so much as saw her face, before she opened her mouth.

"Absolutely not."

Not just Lyssel — everyone.

There was no winning.

She even briefly considered just losing her temper.

She wasn't a glass figurine, and the truth was they were coddling her past the point of reason.

"Your Highness."

"Yes. Go ahead."

"I'm losing my mind."

"……Iberin."

"I know my body's weak. But that doesn't mean I want to sit around like a princess locked in a tower."

"……Iberin."

"And I don't want to just sit here and die, either. I want to do something."

Lyssel's face twisted.

Iberin had realized that no amount of persuasion was going to do it, so she just told them how she actually felt.

She had a lot to do.

She had to do something right now.

She couldn't keep killing time like this.

"Your Highness, please."

Lyssel's head dropped low.

"I had no idea you were thinking that way."

"……."

"…All right. Whatever you want… I'll let you do whatever you want."

"Your Highness?"

Something in his voice was trembling.

"So please — don't think that way. Stay by my side as long as you can. Please."

He'd somehow ended up on his knees in front of her. He took her hand slowly, clinging to it like a man begging.

He stared at her hand a long moment, lifted it toward his lips, and held his breath as he looked up at her.

"Please."

Brimming eyes that looked ready to spill tears at any second, a voice and a touch trembling faintly.

And on top of it all, a gaze fixed straight on her and nowhere else.

"…Oh… oh…"

Iberin was silently losing her mind.

Because that — that was insanely, painfully her type.

The whole stance, the tone, the eyes — it was like someone had taken every single thing she found attractive and bundled it into one person.

A pain like she'd taken a punch to the heart hit her, and she buried her face in his shoulder.

"Iberin?"

Startled by her sudden move, Lyssel called her name softly.

"Your Highness."

Iberin slowly steadied her breathing and spoke.

"…You're not hurting anywhere, are you?"

"It's not that — you just punched me in the heart."

"What? What?! Me? I didn't do anything like that!"