FEFR 31

Chapter 31

Lanzé and Erna looked on as Petra and Count Swanheald faced each other.

Having received uninvited guests two days in a row, Petra didn’t even bother with a fake smile.

Not that Count Swanheald looked any more pleasant.
He, too, knew that visiting without notice was impolite, but as soon as he saw his two granddaughters, a surge of fury toward Petra overtook him.

The worst-case scenario in his mind was Petra denying involvement and hiding the girls, but even her bold appearance now was just as offensive.

From his perspective, Petra was no better than someone who had snatched away children who had a rightful guardian.

“And yet she acts so composed! There’s a limit to shamelessness…”

But contrary to the Count’s assumption, Petra was inwardly troubled.

She had consistently advised the sisters to return to Swanheald, and even now she stood by that belief.
She had only helped Lanzé with her school documents because of a promise, not to provoke the girls’ grandfather.
That Lanzé had shown up with Erna in tow was entirely outside Petra’s expectations.

The Count, frowning, looked over Petra, Lanzé, and the timid Erna.

Having been led straight into the parlor upon arrival, he had technically been treated more generously than yesterday’s imperial princess, but not knowing this, his attitude was full of dissatisfaction.

Petra at least tried to smooth over the awkward atmosphere.

She gave Lanzé, who stood at the doorway, a look that meant “go back for now.”

But Lanzé didn’t budge, even as Erna tugged at her sleeve.

Petra couldn’t help but snap.

“Why did you two come down? If I needed you, I’d have called.”

Truthfully, Petra had responded far more calmly than yesterday.
First, she had sent the Count to the parlor, then warned those whose presence would only cause trouble—Lanzé, Erna, and Renart—not to come out of their rooms.

Clearly, the result wasn’t great.

“We heard that Count Swanheald was here,” Lanzé answered shamelessly.
“He probably came for us, so why bother our sister? It’s better to settle this directly.”

Petra was a beat late in realizing that the “sister” Lanzé referred to was herself.
It wasn’t a term she disliked, but Lanzé wasn’t usually the affectionate type.

“So this is what she’s doing…”

Sure enough, the Count looked even more upset.
It clearly irritated him that his runaway granddaughter was acting affectionate with another relative.

Petra shook her head and stood.

“Fine. This is a family matter, so it’s better for you to handle it yourselves. Lord Heser… you came to speak with your granddaughters, I assume?”

“I came to take them with me.”

Petra left the room without a word in response.
With one strange event after another, this was no time for formalities.
She left the matter to Lanzé and made her exit.

Once the door closed, Lanzé turned her gaze to the Count.

“By ‘children,’ what exactly do you mean?”

“What?”

“I thought you didn’t care much about Erna anymore.”

Even though she deliberately brought her up, the Count still didn’t look at Erna.

Lanzé found this unsettling, but she continued—worried that changing the subject might offend him.

“I get that you want to take me back, but why Erna? Why not let her live freely?”

Her tone was so calm that it almost sounded cheerful, even though her words were confrontational.

The Count ignored his discomfort and replied.

“She’s still my granddaughter, no matter what. She should be under Swanheald’s protection.
I won’t stand by while she lives under another family’s name, changes her surname, and joins the military.”

“Isn’t serving as a mage officer an honorable thing?”

Lanzé hesitated as soon as she spoke.
She had said it because he once encouraged her to enter the academy in place of her dead cousin—but that conversation never happened with the current Count.

Fortunately, he seemed to take it as a convenient excuse and didn’t question it.

“Serving the nation is good. But you girls are still women. There are more suitable paths.
Once you return to Swanheald, you’ll study proper etiquette with Alix.
A few years later, I’ll find you appropriate matches.”

But even after hearing this, Lanzé didn’t feel particularly angry.

“What a spineless man.”

The Count of Swanheald, who acted like tradition and principle were everything, had simply chosen another granddaughter after the heir meant to enter the military died.
Lanzé knew now that all this talk of “suitable paths” was meaningless.

Even the supposed tradition of making the heir a mage officer was something the Count had never done himself.

Someone else in his generation must have fulfilled that duty.
Among his children, it was Lanzé’s uncle—originally not even the heir—who had entered the military.

And when his youngest son died, the Count had passed the responsibility on to Lanzé, who had been raised as an illegitimate child.

“Taking him seriously would be foolish.”

Lanzé stared absently into the air.

“I forgot about the stable when I came out… I wonder if my cousin is okay.
If he’s completely against our enrollment, then I guess things are still fine over there?”

If something had gone wrong again, he’d probably be using it to coax them back into the family.

Meanwhile, the Count’s simmering anger flared again.
He was irritated by Lanzé’s disinterest and wandering thoughts.

“You’re not paying attention! I’m speaking for your own good…”

“You don’t really have the right to say that, do you?”

A sudden voice cut in, startling the Count.

It was Erna, who had previously been ignored, standing tall and looking him straight in the eye.

She stepped out from behind Lanzé.

That’s when the Count noticed how different she looked from his memory.

The change was staggering.

Gone was the sickly pallor; her once thin body had filled out healthily.
Though still smaller than Lanzé, her cheeks and hair glowed with the same vitality.

But more than all that, her eyes burned with intense fury.

“‘Suitable paths’? Marriage?”

Erna stared down her grandfather.

“You think you get to decide that? That you can interfere in Lanzé’s life?”

The Count was speechless—not because he agreed, but because he had never imagined such a situation in his life.

When he believed Erna to be the sickly daughter of his deceased son, she had always been obedient—or at least in front of him.

He used to feel irritated yet pitying toward his fragile granddaughter, unsure she’d even live to see twenty.

But after her disappearance, something had changed.

Erna now stood before him like someone who had never been ill, her voice filled with the power to erupt into a scream at any moment.

She sensed his shock.

“Are you surprised I’m like this now?”

“The last time I saw you, you were bedridden with fever…”

“You never visited unless I was that sick. It’s not like I was always ill, you know.”

The Count was left speechless.
Even his silent, questioning stare asked how such a drastic change could be possible.

Lanzé stepped in for Erna, who had clammed up in anger.

“She got treatment after leaving the estate. We found a good doctor.”

Lanzé still lacked motivation.
To her, this entire conversation was a massive waste of time.

Still, she intervened because she feared that if left alone, this standoff would never end.

“We need to settle this. If I don’t finish this, even my senior will stay stuck in that room.”

Conscientious Renart was surely still waiting as Petra had instructed, unaware that Lanzé had brought Erna to confront the Count.

“This is no time to space out.”

But just as Lanzé made up her mind, Erna flared up again.

“Do you know who that doctor was?
The one from the west whose letter you ignored! Yes—Count, you’ve always been like this!”

Now Erna was truly shouting.

“All that ever mattered was appearances! You despised me and treated Lanzé like she didn’t exist!
And now, just because things have changed, you still don’t care about our feelings or circumstances.
You only want to drag us back to protect your reputation!”

“That’s my right!” the Count roared back.

“You bear Swanheald blood. As family head, it’s my right to decide your future!”

“Excuse me.”

As the tension escalated, Lanzé raised her hand.

“May I say something?”

Without waiting for permission, she continued.

“As you mentioned earlier—we’ve already changed our surnames.
That means you don’t actually have any legal rights over us anymore.
If you try to take us by force, it’s called kidnapping.”

“You’re still my son’s daughters—how can you say such nonsense?”

“You know the truth. If you want to claim our documents are fake, you’d have to go to court first, wouldn’t you?
Be my guest.”

Lanzé was confident the Count wouldn’t follow through.
As expected, he said nothing.

From the moment Petra helped them craft new identities, the balance of power had shifted.

If the Count wanted to assert his rights, he’d need to go through legal channels—and the resulting scandal would be impossible to suppress.

Unlike the Count, who wanted to keep the sisters’ flight and past secret swaps hidden, Lanzé and Erna didn’t care if the truth spread throughout the Empire.

“Well… not entirely care-free.”

If a lawsuit really did happen, they’d lose the freedom they worked so hard for and be dragged back to Swanheald.
Even for them, it would be a heavy price.