Chapter 23
Thermion nodded at her question after a brief pause.
“That’s just the feeling I get. I can’t really explain it properly.”
Though he spoke that way, Thermion had vaguely noticed the strange gap between things.
Just looking at her reaction yesterday, when Eleonora had mentioned dating, made it clear enough.
‘Even though it was just a child’s remark, she subtly drew a line. It’s not simply that she dislikes me.’
Ailesia accepted Eleonora’s affection only in the way she wanted, and only as much as she wanted. Perhaps because she was skilled at hiding things, she wrapped it all up in smiles and jokes.
Rather than being deliberate, it felt as though that was precisely where she believed her role—and her limit—ended.
“……I won’t interfere recklessly in your relationship with Elly.”
Despite his serious demeanor, it was an unexpectedly cool-headed statement. Ailesia asked back, unable to understand.
“After saying all that?”
“I’m not really in a position to do that to you. Even if Elly is my niece.”
“Well, that’s true, but.”
“Relationships between people… even when blood ties are involved, they don’t always go the way you want. And with strangers, it’s even more so.”
With that, Thermion pressed his lips shut.
From the moment they arrived at the west wing and climbed up to the third floor, he didn’t say another word. His expression gave nothing away.
‘It can’t be about Elly.’
Who was the person he meant—this someone who hadn’t gone the way he wished?
His father, the former grand duke before the last?
His half-brother, the previous grand duke?
His sister-in-law, the former grand duchess?
Or perhaps the dowager duchess, who was still alive?
‘Thermion was really close with the previous grand duke, though…’
The former grand duke had cherished Thermion so much that one might wonder if even true siblings could be that affectionate.
After Thermion entered the ducal household, his distant relationship with the grand duchess had mended as well, leading to Eleonora’s birth. That had happened seven years into their marriage.
Because of that, even his sister-in-law treated Thermion dearly, like a real younger brother.
On the surface, the ducal family’s relationships looked perfectly neat. Perhaps there were things the novel never revealed.
‘Is there really another transmigrator for whom the original story is as useless as it is for me?’
If she had simply forgotten details and gotten confused, that would have been one thing. But remembering everything perfectly and still understanding nothing felt cruel.
“Oh, right.”
After hesitating for a moment, Ailesia passed Eleonora’s room and headed toward her own.
“Tonight, I’ll sleep with Elly in my room. While fighting the intruders earlier, I completely smashed the terrace door.”
“…The terrace door?”
Not just damaged—she’d said she smashed it outright. He appreciated the honesty, but still.
Noticing Thermion’s uneasy expression, Ailesia subtly avoided his gaze and continued.
“And besides that, the room’s kind of a mess.”
Thinking back, she hadn’t needed to make such a loud spectacle of the fight. Knocking them out with magic on sight would’ve been more than enough.
With an awkward expression, Ailesia glanced toward Eleonora’s room.
“I guess I got carried away.”
“You got carried away?”
“No, I mean, my shoe went flying during the fight.”
“You’re wearing them just fine.”
“Was it their shoes, then? Anyway—thanks for escorting us! Good night!”
Rushing through her words, Ailesia hurriedly opened the door and slipped inside.
Watching her, Thermion let out a low chuckle and turned away.
Just what had she done for it to be such a mess? Even if it could wait until morning to clean up, he wanted to check it himself.
Thunk.
The moment he stepped into Eleonora’s room, something caught at his feet. It was a longsword—one of the retainers’ weapons.
“That aside…”
Through the gaping hole where the terrace door had been, curtains fluttered in the breeze. Around it lay shattered window frames and scattered shards of glass.
‘What a sight.’
As he absentmindedly looked up, he noticed a pitch-black hole punched clean through the ceiling—just about big enough for a person to fit through.
‘Baron Beiton’s jaw was half crushed, too.’
Crushed—or perhaps shattered would be more accurate. Left as it was, he’d probably never be able to chew comfortably again.
“…Did she beat them with a staff or something?”
A mage that strong must also be well-versed in close combat. Shaking his head, Thermion left the room.
“Hey, Thermion.”
“Yes?”
He was about to head down the stairs when the door suddenly slid open. Ailesia peeked out, only her head visible, looking at him.
“Do you still have something to say? Or do you need something?”
“No, it’s not that.”
Hesitating, Ailesia cleared her throat and then spoke.
“I still think what matters most is the heart.”
What was this all of a sudden? While Thermion stood there blinking blankly, Ailesia poured out her words in a rush.
“Blood ties and age gaps matter, and the years you’ve spent together matter too. They’re not things you can ignore. But in the end, isn’t it more important how much you care about and consider each other? Like family affection, or camaraderie—stuff like that.”
“……”
“Anyway! Elly really, really likes you, so don’t worry about the rest! Okay, now seriously—good night!”
“Ailesia.”
Thud.
With a dull sound, the door shut again. Thermion lowered the arm he’d awkwardly stretched out and smiled bitterly.
“So she’s a nagging witch, after all.”
He’d wondered what she was getting at—turns out she’d been thinking about what he said earlier the whole time.
Unable to move his feet right away, he fell into thought.
‘What matters is the heart…’
He understood it in his head, but it was hard to accept with his heart.
What about his own feelings?
What about Eleonora’s, or the dowager duchess’s, or the other retainers’?
What about Eleonora’s deceased parents, or the former former grand duke?
‘…And what about you, Ailesia?’
If he could see her face right now and talk things through, perhaps this tightness in his chest would ease a little.
After gazing at the closed door for a while, he finally turned toward the stairs.
Ailesia was the true hero of the night. He didn’t want to disturb her rest with unnecessary matters.
“Have a good night.”
Leaving behind a greeting she might not even hear, Thermion left the west wing without hesitation.
* * *
The next morning, Thermion rose before sunrise and headed straight for the underground dungeon.
Despite the early hour, the knights were on guard with grim expressions. Recognizing him, they quietly saluted.
“How are they?”
“Baron Beiton and the retainers are relatively fine, but…”
“What’s the problem?”
“…It would be faster for you to see for yourself, Your Highness.”
At the knight’s uneasy tone, Thermion immediately headed for the solitary cell.
“Sir Dayfold.”
“Welcome, Your Highness.”
Kubera’s stiff expression was ominous. Without a word, he guided Thermion inside.
“…Is he dead?”
“According to the knights, he stopped breathing just seconds after regaining consciousness. There was no time to do anything.”
“No clues?”
“We searched his body thoroughly, but found no notable items.”
Kubera’s voice was heavy. He was clearly furious that they’d caught the leader only to lose him before even questioning him.
The sight inside the cell was horrific. The dead man’s mouth hung open, his face frozen in absolute terror.
The floor and his clothes were soaked in a dark, murky liquid, and his limbs lay limp at unnatural angles.
In the center of his chest was a massive wound—so gruesome it was hard to even guess how it had been inflicted.
“Calling this suicide… something feels off.”
“It resembles symptoms of mana or aura going berserk, but if that were the case—look here.”
Kubera pointed at the corpse’s chest. Thermion stepped closer to examine the wound.
“The heart is completely destroyed. It’s a bizarre injury—almost as if fire magic was inserted into the body and detonated.”
“Is it possible he cast magic himself?”
“The restraints are intact. Unless he was at least a high mage, there’s no way he could’ve manipulated mana.”
At Kubera’s explanation, Thermion frowned deeply.
By all common sense he possessed, the state of this corpse was impossible to understand. It wasn’t a simple bite of the tongue—and self-destruction by blowing up one’s own heart was unheard of.
“I doubt an autopsy will reveal much more.”
“We’ll proceed anyway, just in case.”
“Be careful. If the body were to explode again somehow… even imagining it is horrifying.”
With a shudder, Thermion headed to the next room—the one holding the retainers who had tried to kidnap Eleonora.
Sensing someone’s presence, Baron Beiton rushed up to the bars the moment he saw Thermion and shrieked in a shrill voice.
“G–Grand Duke, Your Highness!”
