Chapter 57
“Wow, there are so many old books about magic! Is it okay if I read some too?”
April spoke as she looked around at the endlessly stretching bookshelves.
“…I distinctly remember asking for a child to help organize the books,”
Lucael thought. For now, what he wanted from the children was simply to organize the books.
It was impressive that she could read ancient texts, but he couldn’t allow her to run off and do her own thing.
The other four children busied themselves with sorting the books under Lucael’s watchful gaze. Some even carried old books over to ask questions just to get his attention—but only after finishing the organization.
Once the children could perfectly organize the books, Lucael intended to let them read these ancient tomes.
“I-I’m sorry…”
April bowed her head deeply.
Lucael didn’t intend to scold her; he simply wanted to make sure the purpose of bringing her here was understood.
Still, her desire to read the books didn’t stem from any bad intention. Just then, April continued, seeming both timid and determined:
“…I’ve already read all the books at home, so I didn’t expect to see so many new ones here.”
Lucael found April genuinely fascinating.
Even the wizards living in the magic tower, except Chiwa, didn’t dare speak to Lucael. They either worshiped him as a god or feared him as a monstrous creation of the divine.
“…That mouth doesn’t seem to rest.”
At Lucael’s cold words, April covered her mouth with her hands.
In her ten years of life, no one had ever called her talkative.
She wanted to reply to him, but doing so would only make her seem even more chatty.
For someone shy enough that she couldn’t even go out alone, chattering like this in front of the feared master of the magic tower felt strange even to April herself.
“…Aren’t you afraid of me?”
Lucael asked the solemn-looking April.
Of course, April was afraid of Lucael, who had lived over a thousand years. She could sense his magical power, but it was so deep that it could barely even be measured.
“I-I am afraid… but your scary face… somehow reminds me of Uncle Blaine…”
April suddenly realized why she could speak comfortably to Lucael.
Lucael, like Blaine, made ordinary people too intimidated to speak to him.
“Uncle Blaine?”
“Yes, he’s my dad’s younger half-brother, my godfather. He’s famous for looking very scary even in the Empire. He always stands in a corner, frowning deeply with wrinkles on his forehead and eyebrows. Jaina said it’s like black clouds gather around him!”
April raised her eyebrows and made forehead wrinkles, mimicking Blaine.
She made a truly fearsome expression—but her lips held a playful smile.
“I understand why Liliana is scared, but even Jaina, who isn’t afraid of cockroaches and kills them instantly, gets scared of him… oh, I have two sisters too!”
Though her story wandered, it was understandable. April had a godfather and two older sisters.
“Anyway, that godfather of mine…”
April recalled the day of her father’s funeral. It was also the second time she had met Blaine.
Helene, who had seemed hungover since morning, had vanished from the funeral, leaving Liliana and Jaina unsure how to properly welcome Blaine.
Blaine, silent despite the awkwardness of her sisters, laid a white chrysanthemum on Raoul’s coffin.
Although expressionless, his eyes revealed a soul that seemed empty to young April.
He was one of the people who grieved the most at the funeral, alongside the three sisters.
He also needed someone to share his sorrow.
April’s bold action that day surprised her two sisters. She didn’t even know where that courage had come from.
Still, April was certain that even if she could go back to that day, she would act the same way.
Much younger then, she stood next to Blaine, whom she had only met for the second time.
She allowed herself a rare show of childishness, not even afforded to her sisters or her father Raoul.
With teary eyes and a trembling voice, she said to Blaine:
“…Sir, please hold my hand.”
Someone had to hold Blaine’s hand, or he might crumble.
Of course, she intended to keep it a secret forever, to preserve the dignity of the adults.
“A scary face doesn’t necessarily mean someone is a bad person…”
April spoke while studying Lucael’s face.
He had a face as scary as Uncle Blaine’s, but perhaps even more mysterious—maybe the most mysterious person in the world…
Was he even human?
April hoped she was right this time too.
“…It doesn’t mean he’s a good person either.”
Lucael cut off the conversation coldly and opened a new ancient tome to read.
The pointless small talk was over.
April understood, pursed her lips, and stayed silent.
She didn’t want to disturb Lucael anymore.
April resumed organizing the books, though her mind wandered.
As Lucael had said, a scary face didn’t mean he was a bad person—but she couldn’t assert he was a good one either.
‘But… he’s still not scary.’
April looked at Lucael once more.
His porcelain-like skin seemed to radiate no warmth; his gray eyes were so still that he could be mistaken for a statue.
His long silver hair looked so light and soft that it must feel like feathers to the touch.
Though her hands were busy with books, her thoughts remained on Lucael, who read the ancient texts.
The breeze ruffled Lucael’s cheeks as he flipped through the pages absentmindedly.
It was a sunny afternoon.
The morning at the Grand Duke’s estate was bustling.
Though the duchess usually preferred simple breakfasts, today she prepared more since the busy mother and child were finally together.
Using the sunny weather as an excuse, the steward set up a table in the garden.
Though she had grumbled about the outdoors until sitting down, the duchess was cheered by the freshly picked pink roses adorning the table.
The steward had been right; sometimes this was quite nice.
Zighardt arrived late to the garden and took a seat. His hair was slightly damp from post-training showers.
Even the usually indifferent Zighardt enjoyed the rare outdoor meal.
Soon, a servant brought a tray of dishes.
The first plate held potato salad topped with shrimp.
Food tasted better in the sunlight and breeze.
The duchess, savoring a bite, started the conversation:
“Your Grace, how about training the Royal Knights?”
As Grand Duke and Swordmaster, Zighardt was assigned the task of training the Royal Knights as soon as he returned to the capital.
Any imperial knight would want to learn from him.
Zighardt found teaching enjoyable, given the talent in the Royal Knights.
“They’re exceptionally skilled, as expected of the Royal Knights. The captains’ abilities are remarkable. With proper training, we could form an excellent monster-hunting unit.”
He was teaching the captains the skills to defeat monsters.
In the northern Rebladian territories, monster attacks were frequent, making the Empire the best in monster hunting.
“…And such talent still remains at ‘Lepia Palace’.”
The perceptive steward poured white wine into an empty glass beside a filled one.
This had been a source of worry for the duchess for the past month.
The imperial crown prince, her beloved nephew, had gone to hunt a giant monster—far from ordinary monsters.
The duchess knew well that Crown Prince Ruihart was different from the Swordmaster Emperor or Zighardt.
The Emperor, wishing to prove Ruihart as the perfect heir, had only sent mediocre soldiers to claim the monster’s head as his son’s accomplishment.
Though typical of the Emperor’s thinking, sending his only son to certain death was reckless and foolish.
As the head of the imperial household, the duchess prided herself on knowing the Emperor better than anyone.
The Emperor’s arrogant ignorance had now placed Crown Prince Ruihart in mortal danger.
