Chapter 9

"Is Ether awake?"

Iberin shot up and yanked the door open, and a split second later she was scrambling to catch the child who came barreling into her arms in tears.

"Whaaaah."

"Hey, why are you crying!"

"Lady Iberin took so long to come back, he's been anxious the whole time."

I must've been staring at that face for way too long.

Iberin was busy beating herself up over Ether—who refused to peel himself off her and kept on crying—when she snuck another glance at the Grand Duke and revised her assessment.

Yeah, no one could've helped getting stuck on that face.

This one was forgivable. Honestly. It was the face's fault.

---

After a long stretch of soothing him, Ether finally got his crying under control. By the time Iberin straightened up, Lyssel looked like he'd been hit by something.

"Come to think of it, it's about time for breakfast—would you like to join us, Your Highness?"

Iberin asked, easy as anything.

"…Me?"

But Lyssel asked it back like he wasn't sure he'd heard right.

"Yes, you, Your Highness."

"…You're saying we should… eat together."

"Or did you already eat?"

A strange silence stretched on. Ether lifted his head and looked up at Lyssel.

Only then did Iberin say oh—and turn to Ether with a question.

"Ether, do you know who this is?"

"…Someone I don't know."

Ether blinked up at him for a long beat before answering.

"And me?"

"My lady…"

He still wouldn't say Mom, but Iberin pressed on without missing a beat.

"Another word for me is Mom. And this person is your Dad."

"Dad?"

"Yes, Dad!"

"…What do I caw him?"

"You can just call him Dad."

"Nooo…"

Ether shook his head as if to say that wasn't it.

Wait—does he think he has to call Lyssel something other than Dad, like how he calls me 'my lady'?

She'd have to clear that one up right now.

"Ether, do you not want to call me Mom?"

"……"

No answer.

"Are you scared? Scared I'll get mad if you call me Mom?"

Nod, nod—

"Then you can call me whatever feels comfortable, but Ether, anytime later on you feel like calling me Mom or him Dad, you can do that whenever you want. If you ever do call me that, I'll be so, so happy."

"…Habby?"

"Yes, happy."

"Habby's a good thing, right?"

"It's a really good thing. When you're happy, you feel good even doing nothing, and you can't help smiling. Once Ether feels safe and settled here at the Grand Ducal Estate, you'll feel like that."

"Then, Ether… Ether's habby right now…"

Ether answered, cheeks flushing pink.

"Ugh. So cute."

Iberin made the familiar pained sound and squeezed Ether into a full-body hug.

She heard him giggle a soft hehe next to her ear.

All this while, Lyssel was still looking down at the two of them like he couldn't process what he was seeing.

But still—Ether had recognized her face right away and yet had said he didn't know Lyssel. That was bad. Worse than she'd thought.

Iberin sent Tami and Ether out for a moment.

She told them to head to the dining hall and she'd be right behind.

Ether clearly didn't like it, but she had something to say to Lyssel, so she pried him off.

"Mommy will be there in a minute!"

Once Ether finally left the room, Iberin took a breath and turned to Lyssel.

For some reason, Lyssel flinched and took a step back.

The same person who'd been radiating that intimidating pressure just a few minutes ago.

Iberin laid it out for him.

"So, Your Highness?"

"Yes?"

"You're going to have to come with me."

"W-where to?"

"Where do you think? Our Ether needs to eat. Even if you already ate, you're coming."

Iberin's tone was nothing if not confident.

"……Why?"

Lyssel looked thoroughly thrown.

Either way, paving a smooth road for Ether meant his father had to be in the picture too.

So she fixed Lyssel with her most pleading look.

---

Iberin and Lyssel walked along like two magnets repelling each other, a stubborn gap between them.

Glance—

The distance was bugging Iberin, and she kept cutting her eyes sideways at him hard enough to look cross-eyed.

But Lyssel just kept his gaze forward, and his pace kept picking up.

"Wh-what?"

She let out a small, dumbfounded sound, but Lyssel was already pulling ahead.

"Oh, come on."

Some inexplicable competitive streak kicked in, and Iberin scrambled to catch up.

But the second she got close, Lyssel sped up even more.

Rotte, well past her prime, couldn't keep up with that pace and quickly fell behind.

Iberin glanced back at her, torn, but Rotte waved her on like go ahead, I'm fine.

"I'll head on first, then."

"Yes."

The words were barely out of her mouth before Iberin broke into a run.

In that long, sweeping dress, she was somehow managing.

Scared Lyssel would lose her completely, Iberin huffed her way over and grabbed his arm.

Lyssel glanced down at her.

"What is it."

Haaah. Hah, hah.

After catching her breath, Iberin said,

"Why are you walking so fast?"

"…I just walk fast."

"Do you even know where the dining hall is? It's not this way."

Iberin gestured.

She'd figured even someone who got uncomfortable around people had to have eaten in the main building at least once—but no, Lyssel was heading in the complete opposite direction.

Without a word, Lyssel pivoted toward where Iberin had pointed.

"Actually, it's not that way either."

"….Are you toying with me?"

"Just teasing. Sorry if it bothered you."

"Hah…"

Lyssel's face twisted.

Iberin gave his arm a few tugs.

Obviously, no amount of tugging was going to drag a man his size anywhere, but he still went along with her without protest.

"Can I hold your hand?"

She'd been worried he might shake her off and bolt if she just held his arm, so she asked.

"No."

The refusal was sharp as a knife.

"Aw. Then I'll keep holding your arm?"

"No. Let go."

Iberin's lips puckered in a pout.

Sure enough, looks and personality were inversely proportional.

When they finally made it to the dining hall, Ether's whole face lit up at the sight of her.

Inside, every staff member from the chef to the maids was lined up at rigid attention.

Their eyes kept flicking to Lyssel in particular.

Iberin ignored it and ran straight to Ether, dropping into the seat next to him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Lyssel stood frozen in place, and eventually Iberin had to say something.

"What are you doing? You're not sitting?"

For some reason she heard sharp little gasps from around the room.

Everyone here seemed terrified of Lyssel, and honestly, she couldn't quite get it.

Sure, he was the cursed Grand Duke that all the rumors went on about, but—were they really unaffected by that face?

"The table."

After staying frozen for a long stretch, Lyssel finally said it, low.

The fact that he'd clocked the table that fast meant it wasn't that he'd never been here—more that he'd barely ever been here.

"Oh, the old one was too big, so I had it swapped out."

The previous table had been ridiculously enormous, putting Ether way too far away, so she'd had it switched for a smaller one.

There was a servant who'd gotten a carpenter's license in the capital, so she'd called on him.

She'd asked, and he'd whipped one up in a few days.

It was smaller than the old one, sure, but still not exactly tiny.

"Come on, sit."

She pushed it, but Lyssel just shot Iberin and Ether a chilly look, then turned and walked right out of the dining hall.

He clearly hadn't liked something.

"Wh-what do we do?"

Behind her, Tami was wringing her hands.

"I mean, you came all the way—you could've just eaten with us."

Iberin muttered, but Ether was right there in front of her and mattered more, so she didn't chase after him.

It wasn't like she could ask the terrified servants to go fetch him either.

"Well, His Highness left, so it's just us. Let's eat."

"How come he's not eating?"

"Maybe he's not hungry."

"It's not 'cause he doesn't like Ether, is it?"

"Why would you think that! Of course not!"

"Mmm…"

Ether glanced at the door Lyssel had gone through, then slowly nodded.

"It's otay if he doesn't like me."

"I told you, it's not that."

"Otay."

"But why is it okay?"

"If Ether tries this hard, maybe it'll get better. My lady did, so…"

"Ugh. That's right. That's right. Our Ether's a total genius, isn't he?!"

"Hehe."

Iberin gushed and fawned, throwing all dignity to the wind.

The servants who'd initially wondered if she'd actually lost her mind had reached the well, this is just her now stage.

"Ether, what's your favorite food?"

"Mmm, my lady's favorite is Ether's favorite. I like… this! Meat!"

"Like mother, like son, huh? Even your tastes are the same?"

"Hehe. Ether and my lady are mommy and Ether. That's why we're the same."

"Mhm, mhm. Etheeer, Mommy will cut this for you!"

"Yes."

The Ether of before had only mumbled because he was too busy reading her face, but now he was talking properly.

And thanks to Ether, Iberin's gushing was hitting new highs every day.

She beamed proudly and sliced the steak in quick strokes, ferrying a piece into his mouth.

"Wheeee~ open up! Here comes the meat~~"

"Aaah~"

There wasn't a shred of noble decorum or refinement to it, but not one person in the room frowned. They all watched with the same soft smile.

---

After the cheerful meal, Iberin handed Ether off to Tami for a bit and went looking for Lyssel.

Rotte, who'd been left behind earlier, had passed along the message.

"You wanted to see me?"

The office was where Rotte and Iberin had been ripping up every incoming complaint letter for days now.

So even with her efforts to tidy up, the room still reeked of ink and paper.

She sat down across from Lyssel, who wore a grim expression.

A moment later, Rotte brought tea.

The original Iberin had apparently been quite the tea drinker—there were countless varieties on hand—but the bitter, astringent taste didn't suit the current Iberin's palate at all, so she preferred to load hers up with honey.

A slightly tart, vaguely tannic fruit tea with two big spoonfuls of honey tasted like heaven.

Slurp.

"Tastes great today too. Thanks, Rotte."

"Don't mention it."

Rotte gave a faint smile and stepped back behind Iberin, and Lyssel watched her with a look like none of this made any sense.

"Rotte filled me in on what's been going on."

"That I lost my memory?"

"Yes. Even with memory loss, can a person change this much? You're not pulling something, are you—angling for something?"

"Oh, that's the longest sentence you've said all day."

"Madam."

"What do you want me to say? I lost my memory, and this is who I am now. I'm not angling for anything."

"If you'd like to go to the capital now, even at this point—"

"I can go to the capital?"

"You can. It's something I've been suggesting all along, but you kept refusing."

"I did?"

"Yes."

Iberin blinked.

She would've jumped at a chance to escape this gloomy place for the capital—why hadn't she gone?

"Will you go?"

Lyssel asked quickly, as if he thought she was being swayed.

"No."

She turned him down, naturally.

"Why this time."

"I'll consider it if Ether and you, Lyssel, come along too."

"That's not possible."

"Then I'm not going either."

He couldn't stop hunting monsters in the Forest of the World Tree.

There was no stopping the killing urge from the Seed of Evil, and without Grand Duke Lecashe—Lyssel—the last line of defense might as well not exist.

He couldn't leave this place.

She didn't know why the original Iberin had refused to go to the capital, but the woman must've had her reasons.

Just like Iberin had hers now.

The smooth road for Ether.

Sure, Ether seemed plenty happy with just Iberin around, but the difference between having a father's love and not having it had to be real.

She'd grown up without her own father's love, so she knew the shape of that empty space.

Lyssel let out a sigh, closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and looked Iberin dead on.

Iberin met his gaze without flinching. After a beat, Lyssel seemed to give up on the idea of shipping her off to the capital and said,

"Stop what you're doing with Ether. Right now."