Chapter 58

Iberin felt like she'd sooner be beaten to death than manage it, but Ether started swinging the sword without a word of complaint.

Whoosh—

He was only five, but he was clearly strong for his age — even to Iberin, who knew nothing about it, the sound of that wooden practice sword cutting the air sounded pretty solid.

"Wow…"

She let out a tiny gasp of admiration and barely stopped herself from clapping as she watched.

Lyssel observed Ether for a beat, then walked over to Rozelia, who was straining beside him to channel her holy power.

But then —

A glance.

Iberin flinched. Because Lyssel's eyes had landed squarely on her.

Wait, did he see me?

She jerked back behind the wall and tried to catch her breath. And when she carefully peeked out again —

"Eeeeek!"

Lyssel was right in her face, and she shrieked.

She nearly toppled backwards, but Lyssel caught her and stood there with an awkward look, fumbling for words.

"Uh — I didn't mean to startle you."

"You scared me! How would you feel if someone all the way over there suddenly popped up in your face?!"

"I'm sorry."

"Oof — my heart's still pounding."

Iberin said it while still half-cradled in Lyssel's arms, breathing in and out.

"Are you all right?"

"…Don't ever do that again. That was genuinely terrifying."

"I won't."

After a while, with Lyssel's hand still on her waist, Iberin rolled her eyes meaningfully.

"Um — my waist…"

"Ah!"

She'd meant the position was a little awkward and could he let go — but Lyssel went red in the face and snatched his hand away.

Thump—

"Ow!"

He'd let go so suddenly that she couldn't catch her balance and went straight down onto her backside.

"Aaah — I-I'm sorry."

"Who just drops someone like that? Ouch."

"Physician!"

The moment Iberin said ouch, Lyssel reflexively shouted for the physician — and the kids, each in the middle of training, snapped their heads around at the word physician.

Spotting Iberin, they came bounding over.

"Mommy!"

"Lady Iberin! Physician — are you sick somewhere?!"

The instant they reached her, they crouched down to check on her, faces creased with worry.

It was clear, whatever this was, they hadn't been avoiding her because they didn't like her. Not that Iberin had thought that in the first place.

"I'm not sick."

"Then why are you on the ground?"

"I didn't collapse either."

Iberin shot Lyssel a not-quite-resentful look, and Lyssel went mute as a clam and dropped his head.

Honestly, who in the world calls for a physician over someone landing on their butt?

"You don't need the physician. I just fell."

"Really?"

"Really."

Iberin brushed herself off and stood right back up. She hadn't gone down that hard, and it didn't really hurt that much.

"But Mommy, why are you here?"

Ether asked, eyes wide and shining.

"Uh…"

Iberin couldn't get an answer out fast enough and just hedged. Lyssel's expression sharpened.

"…What were you doing here? I told you not to come. I was already worried your health was suffering from all the trips into the forest."

"…Mm."

"He's right. Mommy can't be getting sick…"

"You said you were tired and went to your room — why are you out here?"

"Tired?"

"Shouldn't you be inside resting?"

"N-no, I…"

"I'll walk you back."

The three of them threw the words out without giving Iberin a single beat to speak.

Hold on — when did this lot get so in sync?!

Iberin, unable to slip a word in edgewise and muttering to herself, finally snapped.

"Hang on — let me say something too!"

This was a disaster.

All I wanted was to see what they get up to when I'm not around!

Her stakeout hadn't even lasted a minute.

Iberin's face crumpled into a perfect picture of misery.

---

She managed to talk her way out of it well enough.

She'd been sad she hadn't seen the kids in a while, so she'd come looking on purpose — that line.

The kids did seem to flinch a little, but they said they'd just been so busy, and promised it wouldn't happen again.

And while they were all together, watching the way the others kept fussing over getting her and Lyssel side by side, Iberin figured it out.

There was definitely something going on with Lyssel.

What on earth, though?

Iberin stared at him hard.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Lyssel, anything you want to say to me?"

"Anything to say?"

Nothing, apparently.

If not something to say, then what?

"Anything you want, then?"

"For you to be healthy."

Not that either?

Then again — maybe Lyssel really didn't have any agenda and the others were the ones pushing it. Unthinkable before, but the current Lyssel was definitely softer.

The thought no sooner crossed her mind than her eyes locked on Rotte and Rozelia. Ether had a personality like Lyssel's — he was a sweet kid through and through, not the type to spearhead anything. He had so little of his own opinion that she'd actually started worrying about him becoming Grand Duke someday. How the cold, iron-blooded northern Grand Duke of the original ended up like this was its own mystery.

"By the way."

Rozelia, looking back and forth between Iberin and Lyssel like something genuinely puzzled her, finally opened her mouth.

"You two are married, right?"

"Right."

"So why are the names you call each other so stiff?"

"…Hm?"

"Like, His Highness at least uses your name, but why do you call him Your Highness every single time?"

She'd clearly been wondering about it for a while — it came pouring out.

"Well, because he told me to call him that."

"When did I… ah…"

"Right?"

"Yes…"

They were married and had had Ether, so they were a couple. A couple with not one gram of affection between them.

"I'm sorry."

"You're apologizing a lot today."

"Ah."

"It's fine."

She hadn't been holding it against him or anything. The truth was, back when Lyssel had flat-out told her not to use his name, they'd been nowhere near as close as they were now, and she hadn't given it any thought. She'd kept calling him Your Highness until it just became habit.

"Then can I use your name now?"

But the look on him — apologizing like that — said they really had grown close. He clearly seemed to regret the past, so Iberin asked first.

"Of course."

Lyssel nodded immediately.

"Lyssel."

"…Yes, Iberin."

"I'll call you by your name every day, then. Lyssel."

"I'd like that."

Lyssel watched her with a half-loosened expression.

---

Iberin was no fool.

Once the same thing kept happening, there was no missing it.

The reason the three of them kept clustering off together, the reason Rotte had joined in too — every bit of it was about Lyssel.

Looks like they want to get me and Lyssel together. And they're trying to sound out how I feel.

At first she'd wondered if she was being self-conscious. She wasn't.

"But if you're married, shouldn't you share a room?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Aristocratic marriages are often these for-show, pretty distant arrangements."

She said it that way, and Lyssel visibly drooped.

"What? You two didn't get married because you liked each other?"

"We did not."

"…I just assumed you had!"

Rozelia had no idea.

Then again, when she'd first met Rozelia, things were already pretty good between them. The girl might've just figured anyone who married that Lecashe must have liked him. She was still a child; she wouldn't know how the aristocracy operated.

"Even if you didn't back then, you do like each other now, don't you?"

"What's got our Rozel so suddenly invested in me and Lyssel, hm?"

"…W-well!"

"Well?"

"…I'm just curious."

She was a terrible liar.

Iberin snorted and went I see~.

"But why don't you want to share a room?"

Rozelia was a persistent type.

"Because Lyssel wouldn't like it."

"I wouldn't dislike it."

"Huh? You wouldn't?"

"No."

"I assumed you'd still hate sleeping next to me even if you liked me."

"What?"

"What?"

"…Y-you knew I liked you?"

Lyssel stammered, thrown off.

"How could I not? Everybody's making it that obvious."

"Oh, come on!"

Rozelia stamped her foot, looking deflated, while Rotte and the butler quietly gaped. They'd clearly thought Iberin had no clue.

"I'm not that oblivious, you know."

"…Th-then…"

"I figured out Lyssel liked me way back, around the time we went to the capital!"

"…That far back?"

Lyssel's expression went complicated.

"How could I not? Someone who'd thrown up walls that high suddenly going around checking my mood every other second."

"……Ah."

Iberin burst into a peal of laughter and threw her arm around Lyssel's shoulders.

"We're a couple right now, but anytime you find another woman you like, you can go! I'll let you go, no hard feelings!"

"…Sorry, what?"

Like she'd just spouted some never-before-heard nonsense, every eye in the room snapped to her.

"What are you all looking at?"

"I like you, you say you know I like you, and now you're telling me to go meet another woman."

"There's no romantic meaning to it, though."

"……Excuse me?"

"It's a marriage in name only, anyway."

A chilly silence settled.

"…I see. Then please tell me if you find someone you like too, Iberin. I'll let you go just the same."

{Having more or less braced for this, Lyssel said it with as flat a smile as he could manage.}(#zm1sss7rk90m)

---

After everyone left and Iberin was alone, the bright smile vanished as if it had never been there. Her face hardened and she let out a long sigh.

She did like Lyssel. That much was true.

But if the question was romantically — that, she honestly wasn't sure of yet.

His looks were almost shockingly her type. If he confessed, she might end up accepting him without meaning to.

But Iberin was a person fated to die inside this story someday.

The original had already been bent out of shape every which way, but Rozelia, the Saintess, still had over a decade before her awakening.

Iberin didn't want to accept Lyssel only to wound him worse. What if, after she left, the original's gravitational pull dragged him into something like killing himself to follow her?

"Am I really just being self-absorbed, though?"

A self-mocking smile, and then another deep sigh.

"Since I've already wrecked the original anyway, I wish Rozelia would just awaken now."

A ridiculous wish.

With how desperately the girl was training, her holy power still hadn't so much as stirred.

In the end, this part really did seem to be beyond Iberin's reach.