FEFR 18

Chapter 18

Once he called them companions, questioning further would become interrogation aimed at Lenart. Ranje couldn’t tell how she was supposed to interpret his attitude.

As far as she remembered, he was someone rather cynical. While they had trusted each other’s skills and character, that was not the case in the current timeline.

Now, they were merely one-day acquaintances. She wasn’t sure whether her habit of assuming the worst hadn’t kicked in yet, or if it hadn’t even developed at this point in time…

Meanwhile, Petra no longer insisted on being suspicious.

It wasn’t even serious wariness halfway through. She had simply been annoyed at Ranje’s rudeness, and more than that, she was curious about the sisters’ story. She didn’t need to insist on getting answers right now by ignoring Lenart, who had vouched for the sisters’ innocence.

“As you said, this isn’t an ideal time for a long conversation. If you don’t mind, I’d like to invite you to my estate.”

“Thank you. I haven’t secured accommodations yet.”

His expression didn’t change, but Ranje could tell he sincerely welcomed the offer. Anyone would prefer a warm bed to a rough night’s sleep.

“You two come along as well.”

Petra spoke to Ranje and Erna.

Of course, her main intention was to continue the questioning tomorrow, but her voice had softened somewhat.

“Then, before that, I need to—”

Ranje turned slightly, thinking of the belongings they’d left behind in the shattered clinic.

But just that small movement brought a sudden wave of dizziness she couldn’t control.

‘Huh?’

Her vision flickered uncontrollably, and the moonlit scenery tilted in a strange direction.

It wasn’t until she saw the shocked faces around her that she realized she was falling.

‘Maybe I overdid it.’

Her body gave out before her mind, and her limbs turned limp as if she had slipped on flat ground. Perhaps her clever senior had worried because he anticipated something like this.

Maybe it was due to a fever, but her thoughts flowed lazily, and soon everything turned pitch black.

Just before she completely lost consciousness, someone hurriedly caught her.

‘At least I didn’t collapse in a humiliating way.’

Grateful she hadn’t face-planted into the ground, Ranje stopped resisting and let herself fall asleep.

When she opened her eyes again, the room was filled with light.

The first thing Ranje noticed was a powerful hunger. She had barely eaten her last meal and had been running around all over the place, so it made sense.

“Is it morning? Or lunchtime?”

She spotted Erna sitting by her bedside and immediately asked.

Erna, who had been wearing a pained expression, was startled by Ranje’s sudden awakening.

“Y-You’re awake?”

“Yeah.”

Startled by her calm response, Erna’s eyes welled up with tears.

“Don’t cry!”

Flustered, Ranje raised her voice.

“…Don’t tell me I was out for days?”

If that were the case, crying like this wouldn’t be so strange.

“No, it was just a normal case of oversleeping.”

Kalisa appeared at the edge of her vision, explaining in her usual calm voice.

The night before, after Ranje suddenly collapsed, she had endured a high fever until dawn, but her temperature had returned to normal by sunrise.

“It’s almost noon now.”

“I guess I was tired and overslept. Erna, why are you crying?”

Ironically, Erna looked more like the patient.

In fact, she had only just managed to get out of bed herself. Not long after Ranje lost consciousness, Erna also collapsed, forcing Kalisa to fully focus on her medical duties.

If this had been Kalisa’s own clinic rather than Petra’s mansion, she wouldn’t have had a moment to rest.

Perhaps alerted by the commotion, a temporary assistant entered the room.

Ranje, propped up against a pillow, quietly observed the girl moving with delicate grace. She looked like a doll, probably a couple of years younger than Ranje.

‘No, she is a doll.’

With a rare magic stone engraved with command sigils as a core, one could create artificial spirits.

The girl in front of her was a “wizard’s doll,” crafted by placing an outer shell around such a core.

To make one, you had to process a whole, unbroken magic stone—a material only mined once or twice a year—and the decorative outer shell required an artist’s skill. The technique for engraving the command sigils had long been lost.

Not only were these dolls not easily purchasable even with money, but owning a single one wasn’t particularly useful, which is why even Swanhild hadn’t bothered acquiring any.

This was Ranje’s first time seeing a functioning doll in person.

“Apparently, she’s Petra’s personal property. She helped care for you both.”

The doll expertly took Ranje’s temperature, then brought a wet towel to Erna.

“Lady Petra said she’d like to meet you at two o’clock. I will escort you then.”

The doll turned around coldly after speaking, seemingly to report Ranje’s awakening to Petra.

Meanwhile, Erna wiped her tears away.

“You’re such a crybaby.”

Ranje said it casually, but then realized that crying was the normal reaction here.

She pushed aside her usual cold logic—crying solves nothing—because this was Erna’s first time in such a terrifying environment, and she had even been kidnapped.

“Sorry, that came out wrong.”

It made perfect sense that Erna would be overwhelmed now that even Ranje—her one reliable person—had collapsed.

“Of course it was scary. And you went through a lot yesterday.”

But Erna’s unease stemmed from something slightly different than Ranje had guessed.

“Just like you said, it was all unfamiliar. I was surprised.”

“Mmm…”

Erna lowered her eyes, clutching the wet towel tightly.

“Yesterday was the first time I realized such places and such people existed in the world. I’ve always stayed inside a room until now.”

Ranje, too, lived under restrictions all her life, but Erna’s world had been even smaller—physically confined.

Still, Erna didn’t seem frustrated by that fact. Instead, she looked… embarrassed.

She recalled the attic at Ranje’s and the sights she’d seen in the West.

There was no excuse for pitying others so cheaply.

But she had seen children who had to steal near the train station to survive and those who had to escape burning buildings without help.

Now that she’d witnessed such reality, Erna couldn’t remain indifferent.

‘But Ranje, whom I once looked down on…’

Erna had always thought her illness was the greatest misfortune. Now she felt ashamed of that mindset.

“Grandfather wasn’t a bad lord… but do you think things like that happen in Swanhild, too?”

“Well… maybe there are small-time thugs and poor folks, but probably nothing like that. Still, it’s not your responsibility, and there’s not much you can do. Why are you taking it so hard?”

“Because it’s painful to realize there’s nothing I can do.”

Ranje didn’t lack understanding of Erna’s feelings. It’s just that she had lived her life knowing you couldn’t survive a day with that mindset.

With a conflicted look, Ranje fell silent.

“…We should get ready to meet Lady Petra. I’ll go rest a bit more.”

Erna tactfully excused herself first. Kalisa also quietly left the room, sensing the mood.

Left alone, Ranje mulled over what Erna had said.

When she had run into the market fire, her head had felt clear. But now she was left only with a vague, unpleasant feeling.

‘Where’s my senior, I wonder.’

She shifted her thoughts. Since waking up, she hadn’t seen Lenart yet.

‘He didn’t… leave already, did he?’

The only reason he had come all the way to Farel was because he couldn’t send two girls alone.

The sisters had found the doctor they were looking for. They had met a relative who could keep them safe. And they’d confirmed they actually had a home to return to.

If he left now, he wouldn’t be blamed. Ranje braced herself for disappointment.

Thankfully, when she followed the doll to the drawing room, both Petra and Lenart were there.

“Senior!”

Ranje’s face lit up with relief, and Lenart, too, showed a faint expression of relief. Since he hadn’t been able to visit her room, this was their first time seeing each other since arriving at the mansion.

“You look fine.”

“If you’re relieved, you could say it a little more kindly, you know?”

The one who snapped at her cheeky reply wasn’t Lenart but Petra.

“Ranje, was it? Mind your manners before His Highness.”

“That’s… not really necessary, is it?”

Both Ranje and Lenart made sour faces.

Ranje found the scolding from this sixth cousin she’d only just met yesterday irritating.

Lenart, on the other hand, was awkwardly trying to hide how uncomfortable he felt being treated politely after such a long time.

Once you’re pushed to the edges of power, even your bloodline becomes a risk. Most people avoided him under the guise of etiquette.

Treat him too coldly, it’s a problem. Treat him too respectfully, still a problem. Anyone with sense stayed away.

Lenart himself rarely used his name unless something serious happened.

That’s why Ranje’s complete informality puzzled him the most.