Chapter 39
‘There it is—the duke’s trademark “adult responsibility” speech.’
Cecile simply could not understand his values. Considering how she had grown up, perhaps that was only natural.
“I always think this, but Cecile…”
She could feel the duke’s bangs tickling his forehead. Strangely, rather than feeling uncomfortable, it was actually soothing.
“You could stand to be a little more selfish.”
“…”
“It’s fine to whine, beg, throw tantrums, and cause trouble. That’s normal for an eight-year-old.”
That’s only something you can say because you don’t know my shady intentions. There’s no one in the world who lives as selfishly as I do.
Cecile was struck by a complicated feeling that was hard to put into words.
If you found out I wasn’t an ordinary eight-year-old, but a black-hearted black mage, what kind of face would you make, Duke?
The very thought of it made her uneasy and afraid—but also, in some faint way… sad.
Why is that? I still can’t forgive you for betraying me… yet somehow… the idea that you might be disappointed in me someday feels oddly painful.
Hiding her tangled emotions, Cecile gave a bright smile.
“When I listen to you, Duke, it’s really strange. No adult has ever said anything like that to me before.”
The duke straightened his posture and looked down at her, muttering with a faintly bitter expression,
“It should be normal…”
“It’s not normal,” Cecile said cheerfully.
“I don’t think there’s any such thing as ‘normal’ in the world. That’s why I feel so lucky. I got to meet you, Duke.”
Cecile stood up. Beyond the window, where the blue summer sky and garden stretched out, she clasped her hands behind her back and smiled happily.
“Even if I leave the ducal manor someday, I think I’ll never forget you, Duke, or the things you’ve given me. There’s no other adult in the world quite like you.”
In that moment, she looked as fleeting as if she might slip away through one’s fingers if you reached out to touch her.
Cecile… leaving the ducal manor?
The duke’s chest tightened at the thought of losing that lovable figure.
Why was that? He was the one who had said it was “only temporary protection,” the one who had insisted, “I can’t give you affection.”
A shadow fell over the duke’s eyes. With the faintest trace of pain on his face, he gazed at Cecile.
It was a piercingly blue summer afternoon.
[So in the end, you agreed to lessons with the duke?]
Cecile sat there with a troubled face before answering.
“What could I do? He was absolutely set on it.”
[Hmph… from what I’ve seen, that man is quite stubborn.]
“Tell me about it.”
She grumbled as she finished off her ice cream.
When he suddenly said he’d teach me personally, I wondered if he was suspicious of me because of Aymon’s revelation… but since his attitude hasn’t changed and he’s still as kind as before, it seems he hasn’t given much thought to Aymon’s words.
Cecile pressed a hand to her forehead.
I’ll have to be extremely careful during lessons with the duke. I must never give him any reason to suspect me or catch me out.
In the Irregulars’ office, Duke Bartholomew was staring out the window with a deeply thoughtful expression.
It was rare for him to look that way, so Ace asked curiously,
“Boss, something on your mind?”
The duke’s brow furrowed.
“Is it that obvious?”
“Is it obvious? Your face practically has ‘I have a problem’ written on it in big letters. What is it? Don’t tell me it’s about Miss Cecile?”
These days, the only thing that could make the duke look like that was something related to Cecile—and anything involving her was a big deal for the Irregulars, too.
The duke kept staring out the window with a stiff face, then abruptly muttered,
“What if…”
“What if?”
“…Cecile is a genius?”
For a moment, Ace nearly cracked a rib trying to hold back laughter.
Barely suppressing the wheezing that threatened to spill out, he thought,
This is exactly it. The ‘my kid’s a genius’ disease every parent catches.
Ace cleared his throat and answered,
“Of course! The young lady’s a genius. She’s incredibly smart and perfectly well-mannered.”
The duke was so deep in thought that he didn’t notice Ace’s mouth twitching with suppressed amusement.
“You think so too?”
Wow… I never thought the boss would turn into such a doting parent. I knew their relationship was special, but I didn’t see this coming.
Ace chuckled inwardly.
The boss catching the ‘my kid’s a genius’ bug—this is headline material. I’m spreading this to the whole organization.
Just then, the duke suddenly turned to look at him, and Ace, caught off guard, nearly bit his tongue.
“Anyway, did you bring the results of the investigation I ordered last month?”
Ace grinned and pulled a file envelope from his coat.
“As you ordered.”
“You checked thoroughly?”
“Of course. The Irregulars are your eyes and ears, Boss.”
The duke pulled out the file inside, scanned it briefly, and nodded.
“I’ll be back again.”
“If you need something, come anytime. When the boss visits, we’ve got to welcome you warmly.”
With the envelope tucked into his coat, the duke left the headquarters.
On the envelope, it read: Results of Investigation into the Whereabouts of the Artifact Nibelung.
Not long after lessons with Duke Bartholomew began, preparations for opening the shop moved into a new phase.
Thanks to giving the real estate agent a good scare, Cecile had managed to sign a contract for the building she wanted at a relatively low price.
With the contract done, the next step was renovating and decorating the interior.
For appearances’ sake, Hans was the official manager of the business. It would draw too much attention if an eight-year-old like Cecile took the public lead.
After the real estate incident, she entrusted all subsequent preparations entirely to Hans, and the diligent, trustworthy man carried out his duties faithfully.
But there was a problem.
“What is this?”
Frowning, Cecile looked at the construction invoice.
[What is it?]
“The billed costs are ridiculous. There are way too many decorations that don’t suit a general store. Marble floors, chandeliers, marble columns—what is this, a ballroom?”
At her words, Nibelung clicked his tongue.
[Looks like that chef has been swindled!]
Among long-term servants in noble houses, there were often those with little worldly sense—a symptom common to people who lived in a narrow, stable environment.
And of course, Hans just had to be that type.
Cecile stared at the invoice.
Well, I guess I should have expected this. Hans is diligent, but he’s like a big, clumsy bear with no street smarts.
The real estate agent hadn’t picked up on that, but the interior contractor—who had to communicate with him for a long time—had clearly figured it out.
[So, what will you do? Planning to teach them a lesson with your black magic?] Nibelung asked, his voice tinged with anticipation.
Cecile leaned back in her chair with a small smile.
“I can’t waste mana on something this petty.”
[What? You mean you can solve this without magic?]
“That’s what connections are for.”
Her smile widened.
“We’ve got the perfect scary big brothers and sisters for this kind of job, don’t we?”
