Chapter 63

Lyssel and Iberin were caught off guard.

Was that why the boy had asked, after they'd given him food, whether they were going to take him too?

"The knights from House Alketa just showed up one day out of nowhere. We knew they were squeezing the residents of the territory, sure, but as you can see, this is… this is a place where it's hard enough just to eat, so there's nothing to take. So they took people instead."

"…God. Then the people they took…?"

"I don't know. I went up to the manor a few times and asked to see them, but they wouldn't even hear me out."

The people who'd been taken were absolutely going through something terrible.

They might already all be dead.

The slums had always been a necessary evil — the rest of the territory probably knew and chose not to see.

---

Iberin had nothing she could give those children.

She'd filled their bellies for the moment, but she couldn't keep doing that going forward.

"Don't look at us like that. We're really grateful for today."

"…All right."

At the boy's sincere words, Iberin finally nodded, reluctant.

It was the children paying the price for what the adults were doing.

"Iberin."

"Yes?"

"It's getting late. We should head back."

But Lyssel — apparently unmoved — kept his usual tone.

"Okay. Let's go."

Iberin didn't think there was anything wrong with how Lyssel was. If anything, that he felt something like attachment toward her at all was the surprising part.

Watching him just now, it struck her that she didn't need to read what he felt for her specifically as romantic feeling.

"We need to be on our way. Here — use this to get by for a while."

Iberin handed over the rest of the money to the children in one go.

It was enough that they wouldn't go hungry, at least for the moment.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help more."

"N-no. Just this… just this much you've given us…"

The boy dropped to the ground in full prostration to thank her.

Iberin said it was fine, but the boy stayed like that until she turned and walked away.

In no time they'd cleared the territory wall and reached the carriage at the foot of the ridge.

"Iberin, are those children still bothering you?"

Lyssel asked from the driver's seat just before they set off.

Iberin, who'd been wearing one uncomfortable expression after another, blinked at him, then waved it off.

"If you're worried because of me, I'm fine. I'll forget about it eventually."

"No. They're bothering me too, honestly."

"Sorry?"

"…Well, I do know what pity feels like now."

"…Really?"

"You taught me."

"…I did?"

"I don't like seeing you with that expression. That's the pity I learned."

"…Oh. Oh…."

Iberin's mouth dropped open.

"So those children — I'll help them."

That he learned pity from me.

Now that she thought about it, when they'd taken in the Habil family, he'd gone along with her wishes without resistance too.

And he'd been remarkably proactive about it for someone just going along.

When he'd ripped up the slave document in front of them, even Iberin had been struck.

Because he didn't like seeing me upset? Isn't that more or less love?

For some reason it left Iberin a little flustered.

"S-so, how are you going to help them?"

They couldn't exactly bring the children into the territory.

Slum kids or not, if a lot of them vanished suddenly, there would be an investigation.

And those children had parents who'd been taken.

There were probably some without parents too, but that didn't suddenly give Iberin and Lyssel any right to take them.

"We're not bringing them in."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"We've got crops coming out of our ears. I'll drop them off in the slums in secret."

"What?!"

"I can do it without being caught."

"Wow…"

So this is what comes of being married to the world's strongest.

It felt like an oddly humble use of his abilities…

But hey — if it worked, it worked.

"That's some confidence!"

"……."

"Amazing! So cool!"

Iberin gave him a thumbs-up and kept teasing.

For some reason she felt like she had to.

Today's Lyssel was — how to put it — looking different to her, maybe.

"Long live our Lyssel!"

"…Stop that."

"Why? You're genuinely impressive."

"I'm pulling out now."

She kept laying it on thick until Lyssel apparently decided enough was enough and just got the carriage moving.

---

They arrived back at the territory in no time.

The moment they crept inside, sure enough — there were Rozelia, Ether, and Kal, arms folded, posted at the entrance.

Rozelia looked the most put out.

She looked ready to break into a shout, and Iberin shrank back a little, gauging the mood.

But in the next instant, Rozelia screwed up her face and barreled into Iberin's arms.

"Uh—"

Iberin caught her on reflex and asked, baffled,

"You weren't angry?"

"I was worried."

"I'm better, thanks to you, Rozelia."

"You're not all the way better, though."

"I was fine. I really did great out there."

"That's its own kind of awful…"

Rozelia, sulking, hurried on.

"Was it fun without me?"

"…Ah."

Iberin's eyes drifted sideways.

Honestly, it hadn't been fun, but they had snuck out without telling the kids — that part was true.

When Iberin avoided Rozelia's eyes, Ether stepped in this time and asked how it was.

"It wasn't fun."

Iberin said.

She meant it, no flattery.

Rotte and Pons, watching from the side, smoothed things over.

"All right now, give Lady Iberin a little space."

"Lady Iberin and His Highness weren't out playing — they were working."

"How was the Alketa territory?"

They shifted the topic naturally.

The two of them were a little curious themselves, apparently — Rozelia and Ether peeled off Iberin and stared at them intently.

"It was bad…"

She had to answer the question, but with the kids right there, she couldn't lay it all out.

Rotte and Pons must have caught it — they soothed the kids and led them inside.

---

They finally got to the tea time they'd skipped earlier from being out all morning.

They also did the gift presentation for everything they'd bought.

The kids forgot about being left behind for a trip out to the neighboring territory and just lit up over the gifts.

Kal and Ether, who'd been given swords, were already wriggling in their seats, looking like they wanted tomorrow's training to come right now.

Rozelia's gift was a hairpin set with a jewel.

A red pin that struck a vivid note against her pink hair.

"How do I look? Did you pick this out, Lady Iberin?"

"Yes, I picked it."

"I love it."

Rozelia put it in her hair right there and looked thrilled.

A bright peal of laughter.

"It really suits you."

"Hehe, thank you."

"Mommy, who picked my sword?"

"His Highness picked yours, but Mommy paid for it!"

"Wow! I'll use it well!"

"Yes, yes."

Watching the kids' happy faces made Iberin happy too.

"Ahem!"

Then Lyssel, who'd been sitting quietly, cleared his throat.

"Hmm."

And he casually slid the sword on his hip up onto the table.

He apparently wanted to show his off too.

"What's this? Is this also Ether's?"

The instant Ether eyed it, the sword went straight back to his hip.

"Mommy bought him that one too, as a gift."

"Why?"

"Because Lyssel's sword was old…"

The kids' bright faces went pouty in a flash.

The idea of Lyssel going out with Iberin and getting a gift from her clearly didn't sit well.

Iberin pulled an apologetic face for a moment, then said,

"Next time, you're all coming too!"

"You promise?!"

"Of course. Once the neighboring territories settle down a bit, though. Now's not a good time."

Yes-s-s.

The kids answered together, like they'd rehearsed it.

---

The next day, Lyssel threw the territory gates wide open.

It was a sign that anyone who wanted to was welcome to come in.

The gates had stayed open ever since they'd decided to accept residents, but no one had come except the Habil family.

In case anyone else might be hiding out in the Forest of the World Tree to ride out the risk, they searched it thoroughly — no one was there.

"The children are starving to death?"

She told Rotte and Pons what she'd seen the day before.

"…So Lyssel's going to take a little bit of our crop yield over every day."

"What?!"

"This was your idea, Lady Iberin?"

"No, Lyssel brought it up first."

"…His Highness really has changed."

The two of them quietly marveled.

They'd watched Lyssel for a long time, and the change didn't seem to bother them.

"He's bringing it in secret, so it shouldn't matter, right?"

"As long as he doesn't get caught, it should be fine."

"…The problem is the kids have been hollowed out from not eating — once they start eating again, they'll perk back up and people will start talking."

"What do we do then?"

She'd settled the money situation with Viscount Roman amicably enough, but only because it had been a few slaves.

No noble was going to be thrilled about residents leaving in droves.

"Just leave it. As pitiful as the children are."

Pons said.

"Why?"

"It's better not to do anything that'll give them ammunition later."

"…Right, I suppose."

"Yes. Instead, we'll go in and sell."

"Sorry?"

"Not give it away — sell it. At a low price, obviously."

"You're saying we should make it a trade."

"Yes. At first, of course, no one will want to buy crops from the Lecashe territory."

"Right."

"But those who need it…"

"Will buy it because they're desperate."

"Exactly."

Free would have been ideal, but right now Lecashe was surrounded by enemies; any little thing could be used against them.

"The problem is."

"That doing it that way might mean no one ends up coming over to the Lecashe territory."

If they could buy Lecashe crops cheap, the surrounding residents wouldn't have to starve.

There'd be no real need to abandon where they lived.

People liked stability.

"It's fine. We always meant for it to be slow, that part."

She'd just thought a change was needed.

That they couldn't sit still forever.

But she didn't want to grow the territory's population on the back of someone else's pain.

"I'll handle distribution. It's the work I did in the capital."

Pons stepped up.

"Oh, good."

"Yes. To open trade, the most important thing is opening contact, so I'll need to be in and out of the territories a lot."

It looked like Pons was about to be the busiest of all of them.

"How much crop do we have?"

"A massive amount. The storehouse we put up not long ago is already packed."

She'd known they were harvesting absurd quantities daily, with more going to waste than they could eat, but it was even crazier than she'd thought.

"Start with the slums. I left them a little money."

"Did you? Perfect — I'll head there first and force a sale."

Force a sale — could you really call something like that forcing anything?