Chapter 63
So, he thinks I’m comparing myself to Seraphina?
“…No way, Father. Why would I compare myself?”
Of course, I was. Seraphina is beautiful and kind. Unlike someone else who’s cynical and can’t trust people.
But still.
“It’s not like I can go around bragging about it, but I’m not unhappy with my looks. You’ve fed me well, and Linda has dressed me up nicely.”
That ragged orphanage kid peeking through the front door in her shabby school uniform no longer exists. These days, what I see in the mirror every morning is a black-haired girl raised well in a good house.
“And is being nice really that big a deal? Compared to most humans, I think I’ve got a pretty decent personality.”
Compared to the past, I’ve got peace of mind now. I don’t have to imagine the hellish life stretching endlessly after being kicked out of the orphanage at twenty.
Sure, there’s still the chance I’ll die at sixteen. But honestly, wouldn’t it be better if it all just ended in one blow?
Anyway.
“Don’t worry. Thanks to you, Father, I’ve become a better person.”
I ended my words with what I thought was a touching line, but the Duke just grabbed my cheek and pulled.
“The very idea of ‘better’ or ‘worse’ is the problem. You’re just you.”
“Ow ow ow ow! Uwaah!”
“Honestly, sometimes in these last six years I think you’ve grown a bit more childlike, and then you do something that won’t let me relax.”
“Ugh… You keep treating me like a kid!”
“Of course I should. More importantly, today—who pushed you into the water?”
“…Huh? Wh—how did you know? You never left your office!”
I went through all that spy-movie effort to hide it!
The Duke bent his fingers one by one as he explained.
“When the errand boy came running in earlier, I heard wet footsteps for a long time. Like a drowned ghost soaking the carpet.”
“Ah…”
“And when you came in, I heard a crackling sound from your hair. The damp parts must have frozen stiff in the office’s chill.”
“…”
“So the only conclusion is that my daughter, who fell into the water, rushed to wash and came out. Now, what exactly happened?”
“…”
“Know this—if I catch you lying or trying to hide something, the punishment for the culprit will only be harsher.”
“I’ll talk!”
And so I confessed everything that had happened by the lakeside.
I made sure to emphasize two points:
First, that the culprit was punished by Elber.
Second, that Seraphina was kind enough to save that culprit.
…but the Duke didn’t seem the least bit interested in either.
“First, we’ll start by filling in the lake.”
“…”
“I can’t tie you down forever. But at least for your safety—”
“Do you think I’m some puppy that jumps into the water every time I see it?”
“No, more like a rabbit.”
“…”
Today feels like the day all my dignity crumbles.
* * *
The king’s messenger was already trembling before he even entered the office. Like a mutt staring at a lion’s taxidermy. The only difference was that this mutt wasn’t remotely cute.
“Y-Your Grace! His Majesty does not, by any means, doubt your loyalty! It’s just that… usually you attend court around midsummer, but this time you’ve spent so much time in the capital that—”
“So he is doubting me.”
“N-No!”
“No. I meant His Majesty doubts himself.”
“…Pardon?”
A superior who suspects his subordinates is usually someone who suspects his own abilities first. Because he is incompetent, he fears his men might rebel at any moment.
‘Not even worth biting into.’
The current king is neither a wise ruler nor a tyrant. He has neither the ability to improve the realm nor the guts to ruin it.
He only allows Latiger an audience in midsummer, yet even in those few hours his pale face trembles with fear.
‘And now he even sends a cowardly errand boy.’
The messenger just kept repeating, trembling, “Why did you come so suddenly?” like a broken music box.
…Maybe if I twisted him a little harder, he’d start working again.
If Latiger hadn’t sensed Sol’s presence outside, he might really have grabbed the messenger by the collar.
The man fled the ducal residence without ever realizing his stroke of luck.
Soon Sol entered the office. Her black hair smelled faintly of a sun-dried towel.
At that, the aggressive urge rising in Latiger faded away.
‘…How long has it been?’
Since I solved a problem with violence.
Violence—the fastest, most effective solution in the world. But it’s also what Sol fears most.
As she explained what had happened at the lake, Sol’s nervousness showed—like she feared her father might declare he’d kill someone.
Latiger abandoned his earlier plan of freezing the lake and burying the culprit in the center.
‘For Latiger Olt Schlaeger to fail at reassuring his own daughter? Unthinkable.’
There are plenty of ways to solve problems without beating people.
For example—
“First, we’ll start by filling in the lake.”
“…”
That way, no one could fall in again. And I could also punish those lowlifes renting boats without safety gear.
Of course, this was only the start of ensuring Sol’s safety.
Make life jackets mandatory at rental shops. Station safety personnel. Impose heavier penalties if helping someone puts others in danger. There were many paths forward.
It was a good plan all around—so why was Sol making that face?
“You’re too much! I’m not a rabbit or anything else—I’m a person!”
“A child, to be precise. Much younger than me.”
“If our ages were reversed, I’d have raised you to be way more normal!”
With that, Sol stomped out of the office. Clearly, she found her father easy to push around. Benen, Elber, even runaway Ignatz—none of them had ever spoken to him like that.
…And yet.
‘Why don’t I feel offended?’
Strange.
Still, he couldn’t just let Sol wander around Albion, a city where you could lose your nose the moment you blinked.
So, the moment she left, Latiger summoned a subordinate.
“Investigate Seraphina Tillon. Sixteen, count’s daughter. Especially look for any criminal record. Also, whether she’s suddenly in need of a lot of money.”
“Understood. May I ask the purpose?”
“…A parent–teacher meeting.”
“…Pardon?”
“Something like that.”
“…I see.”
The secretary quickly wiped the puzzled look off his face.
“If she turns out clean, shall we extend the investigation to her relatives?”
“No need. More importantly, let me ask you—”
“Yes, sir?”
“What do you prepare when your daughter’s friend comes over to the house?”
“…”
What popped into the secretary’s mind was: ‘Clear out the house. Parents are stressful enough for friends, and especially you!’
But he was smart enough not to say that aloud.
“Is Lady Sol bringing a friend home?”
“That depends on what you dig up. Whether we can even call her a friend rests on your report.”
“Understood.”
It would make outsiders gasp, but for a family like the Schlaeger dukedom—surrounded by enemies—his caution wasn’t strange.
Still, there was something to confirm.
“You haven’t told Lady Sol, right…?”
“Not yet.”
“Please don’t. If you do, she may very well run away from home.”
“…This is the first time I’ve heard you speak so strongly.”
“Experience. To be precise—I did it myself.”
“…Thank you for the advice.”
The secretary began jotting down names and schedules.
Seraphina Tillon, 16, daughter of a count…
As he turned the page, something else caught his eye.
“Your Grace, from the investigation ten years ago—Young Master Ignatz’s last known location was Albion. There’s no record of him moving since. Could it be—”
“Forget him. He abandoned my name long ago. Don’t bother calling him ‘young master.’”
“…Understood. Forgive my presumptuousness. I’ll make it up through my work.”
The secretary bowed deeply and left.
In the silence, Latiger recalled Ignatz.
He’d been only fifteen when he ran away. Big for his age, but still, what can a runaway boy do?
If he’d sought work in the capital, then most likely—
‘He ended up at the temple.’
The temple gave jobs and shelter to those with nowhere to go. And Ignatz, with his smooth tongue, would have fit right in.
One thing troubled him.
‘If he’s still working there, he might cross paths with Sol.’
What reaction would a runaway eldest son have, suddenly faced with a new little sister?
Ignatz was kind by nature, so he wouldn’t hurt Sol. But—
‘Surely he won’t try to play big brother too, will he?’
Benen and Elber had both latched onto her, each in their own way. Latiger wanted to believe Ignatz wouldn’t do the same…
‘But it worries me…’
* * *
I spent the weekend lazing comfortably in my room.
Whoever set it up, my room in Albion’s townhouse really felt like the one in Pflögel. It put me at ease.
If only I had my dreamcatcher here, it would be a perfect match.
On Sunday evening, I wondered if I should take it back with me to the dorms, but in the end, I left it.
I was too scared of losing it. That wasn’t just mine—it held the memories of the Duke and his late wife.
Of course, the Duke didn’t know any of that. Until the very day I left, he was still saying things like:
“I never said I’d bury the whole lake. The start was—”
“Yes yes yes yes, goodbye!”
“…Sol, are you going through puberty?”
“Don’t you know, labeling everything as ‘puberty’ just because your child refuses to talk only makes them rebel more?”
“…So you admit you’re rebelling.”
The Duke’s face in that moment looked almost pitiful. But I can’t let myself be swayed by a villain!
“See you next weekend!”
“Sol, couldn’t you just leave at dawn tomorrow? If I take you myself, it’ll be faster—”
“No thanks!”
I climbed into the carriage without looking back.
Ugh, why does this feel so weird?
It’s like leaving my grandparents’ house after Chuseok lunch, while Grandpa looks at me with those sad eyes saying, ‘Why don’t you stay just one more night?’ as I get on the bus.
Why do I keep feeling this way? That man is the type who’d survive a zombie apocalypse by eating the zombies!
