Chapter 75
Jeron wasn’t sure if he should tell Tia what he had found out.
First, because he still didn’t have enough information to jump to conclusions.
Second, because he worried that if she heard it, Tia might get upset or feel hurt.
The words wouldn’t leave his lips easily.
Perhaps sensing his hesitation, Tia carefully asked,
“Why? Is it not time yet?”
“I don’t have enough evidence yet, but…”
“Do you at least have someone in mind?”
“Yes.”
Jeron couldn’t lie to Tia, so he answered honestly.
“Then just tell me. If I know who it is, I can dig further myself.”
Tia smiled brightly.
After agonizing to the end, Jeron finally began to speak.
“I don’t know if it counts as a teacher, but Lady Lewendif has someone she meets regularly to cross swords and train with.”
“Really?”
Jeron chose his words carefully, leaving room for the possibility that this person might not actually be the ‘teacher.’
“Yes. It doesn’t take the form of formal lessons, but since the training intensity increases little by little each time, and he corrects her stances, it seems likely he is the one Lady Lewendif refers to as her teacher…”
“Mm… really? Ah! That guy!”
Tia clasped her hands as if she had just remembered something. She seemed to have her own clue.
“By any chance, recently—like yesterday or the day before—did Adel, while training with him, ever smash her h—no, her head against the ground?”
“What? Like this…?”
Jeron stood up, dropped to the carpet, pressed his head against it, and put his hands behind his back.
“Yes! Exactly that! That’s it!”
When Jeron got up and rubbed his forehead, nodding, Tia pointed furiously with a finger, her voice rising with excitement.
“It’s him! It’s definitely him! That worthless excuse for a teacher—who is he?!”
“Um…”
Should he really say it?
Really, should he?
Tia’s breathing was growing rougher and rougher.
“Jeron?”
“Well…”
“Hurry and tell me!”
“Ah…”
“Jeron!”
He hadn’t expected her ridiculous little clue to become proof. With a sigh, expelling the breath from his chest, Jeron finally spoke the name.
“It is Young Duke Killian Märchen.”
“What? Wh-who?”
“If the man you described really is Lady Lewendif’s teacher, then it is none other than Young Duke Killian Märchen. He meets Lady Adelaide Lewendif night after night to train with her.”
“…Killian, you say?”
“Yes.”
Tia’s gaze seemed to sink heavily.
“Are you all right, Your Highness?” Jeron asked.
Tia smiled.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? If it’s Killian, of course he can be trusted.”
“And as for Lady Lewendif being rough…”
“Hm?”
“She seems to be naturally that way. Even Young Duke Märchen complains every time he hears such things about her.”
“Ah, I see. Thanks for telling me, Jeron.”
Tia smiled again. But somehow, that smile looked bittersweet, and Jeron’s heart grew heavy.
*
“Killian Märchen.”
I shouldn’t have asked again.
But flustered, I had betrayed my shock.
“…Young Duke Killian Märchen is her teacher…”
I should have said instead: ‘Oh no! This is terrible. I said so many bad things about Adel’s teacher right in front of Killian! He must’ve been offended! How do I make it up to him?’
When Jeron spoke Killian’s name, it felt as though my heart had dropped out of me.
But the cause of that feeling wasn’t pleasant—it was guilt, the kind I absolutely shouldn’t have.
The main couple of the original story training together every night should have been a good thing. So why did my heart plummet? How many years had I worked just to see this very sight?
Maybe I had fallen too hard for my favorite’s beauty lately, swept up more than I realized. Excessively so.
“My feelings? I could be mistaken. He’s my favorite, after all. A pseudo-romance… ugh! No way! Snap out of it, Tia. Killian isn’t my man. He never was.”
My emotions swung wildly. I tried to steady myself by blaming it on a stormy adolescence or something, but it wasn’t easy.
“Of course. Whenever a scandal about your favorite breaks, you feel awful for a day or two. Even if you knew it was coming, it still stings. Right? Makes you think of unfollowing for a second.”
Back and forth, up and down—my heart was fickle and restless.
“It’s something to celebrate. Why else have I been working this hard? It means everything turned out well. I avoided a brutal death, and I played my role as the bridge for their love.”
It wasn’t bipolar disorder.
What was wrong with me?
“This isn’t jealousy. Definitely not. It’s wrong to even think that. Adel is my precious friend, too.”
Haaah…
“But still, wasn’t it too much to keep me completely in the dark…?”
Half relieved, half guilty, I fell asleep with a trace of gloom lingering in my heart.
*
“Good mooorning! What a fine morning!”
Sleep is the best cure for stress.
I stretched wide, refreshed as I rose from bed.
Yes, last night I had been a little—no, a lot—too emotional.
Thinking it over, nothing had changed at all.
I was still—thankfully!—Killian and Adel’s friend, and still the fake princess who would soon disappear.
Just being alive meant my goal was already accomplished. Last night, I’d acted like a pitiful, clingy fool.
Pull yourself together, Celestia Mond.
You’re not the villainess anymore.
“I should reflect. Of course. From now on, only pave flower roads.”
Since it’s come to this, I’ll stick around until I see Killian and Adel’s pregnancy-birth-childcare side story with my own eyes! Fufufu.
I resolved firmly.
To do that, I had to appoint Jeron as my personal guard as soon as possible. If I kept raising suspicions from Killian or Adel, it’d be troublesome. I had to show them he was always at my side.
Might as well take care of it right now. I left my chambers.
“Who should I go to? This way? Or that way?”
Between two offices facing each other across the corridor, I wavered, tilting my head until it hurt.
If I went to Oz, I’d have to spin around once. If I went to Father, I’d have to endure an endless stream of cheesy words.
“All right, decision made!”
I opened the door to my own office. I had chosen Oz. The fact that Sir Ain, who always carried his “burn book,” was by Father’s side played a big part in that choice.
I thought I heard a strange sigh behind me—too loud to be just a sigh—but I boldly ignored it.
Heh, as if I’d fall for that.
“Your Highness!”
“Oz!”
Oz leapt from his desk and held out both hands to me. I clasped his large, warm hands, and we spun once around together.
“Please, sit here, Your Highness.”
Though the office was technically mine, Oz acted more like its master as he guided me.
“This chair is newly prepared just for you.”
Really, sit here?
I pursed my lips at the rocking chair in front of me.
All because of that spinning-around ritual—no, ceremony—there wasn’t even a sofa in my office. Unbelievable.
Unable to resist Oz’s pleading gaze, I heaved myself into the rocking chair.
My weight tipped it back, and it rocked like a busy roly-poly toy.
“This is fun, but how are you supposed to get any work done in it, Oz?”
I tried to stand, but Oz lowered his gaze and wrinkled his chin sadly.
“Fine, fine. Where did you even learn that expression, old man?”
“I copied it from you, Your Highness. Seems it works wonders, haha.”
Oz chuckled.
“How about this one? Watch carefully. It’s a face I’ve been using a lot lately…”
I furrowed my brow, lifted my chin, half-opened my eyes, and smirked faintly.
“Is that… disdain?”
“Bingo! Right on the first try!”
After showing off a few more faces in my rocking chair, I finally brought up the real reason I’d come.
“Oz, I need you to do something for me.”
“Yes, Your Highness. Please, speak.”
“Of course, I’m asking you because I believe only you can do it—without telling anyone else!”
“Oh, what an honor, Your Highness. Just give me the word.”
Perfect.
“There’s a new knight in the Imperial Order—his name is Jeron. Black hair, black eyes.”
“Yes.”
Oz’s hand scribbled notes quickly.
“I want him as my personal guard.”
“…Pardon?”
“My personal guard. Can you transfer him?”
“Ah…”
Oz set down his pen and asked,
“If this is because you’re dissatisfied with Sir Briven…”
“No! Absolutely not! It’s just, I think Sir Briven should focus on his duties as Knight Commander now. And besides, I’d like to be accompanied by someone closer to my own age.”
That might sound a bit harsh, but Sir Briven, who had already been commander seven years ago, was rather old. Aura users didn’t physically age the same way, but still…
Honestly, he should stop trailing after me and start trailing after Liz instead.
While I thought this, Oz cleared his throat and said,
“I thought the 1st Order was already assigned to your guard duty.”
“Yes, they rotate in shifts, but it feels chaotic having people switch around all the time.”
You know me—I can be a little prickly.
I repeated my “disdain” face and kicked the floor, rocking the chair again.
Sighing, Oz finally stood.
“If you command it, it must be done.”
“That’s it, Oz! Perfect timing on that phrase! Excellent.”
“Yes, Your Highness…”
“I trust you, Oz. Now I’m off to see Killian and Adel! Byeee!”
…Somehow, this all felt completely backwards.
But… this was the right move, wasn’t it?
