Chapter 9
Even to my own ears it sounded like a cheeky retort, but Ezekiel only answered with an indifferent expression, not a single eyebrow out of place.
“You would do well to stop using such rude speech as well. There is a high chance that I will be raising you, just as your mother requested.”
“……”
Hit right where it hurt, I scowled deeply.
‘Ugh.’
Whose care I would be under until adulthood—there was no need to ask my opinion on that.
‘Anyone but him.’
Ezekiel was the one who had played a decisive role in branding me a traitor simply for touching the Holy Grail, without even hearing the full story. And on top of that, Ricardt had been the prison where I was born and raised.
‘It’s horrible.’
I would rather cut off my own ankles than walk back into that place on my own two feet.
…To be a bit more honest, I’d even considered cleanly ending my life before ever doing that.
‘But it’s Mom’s will.’
And not just any will. It was the Sol-Lapis Oath—something used only when an emperor might die suddenly and needed to designate an heir.
An ancient magic that only high-ranking mages could create, requiring tremendous willpower, meant to preserve the intentions of the caster after death.
Now that the Golden Age of Magic had long since faded, creating one was naturally no easy task.
‘An oath said to bring favorable winds to fulfill the final wish of the deceased.’
They even called it “the wind’s vow that grants the dead their desire,” though that was practically legend. Maybe it had been true in the Golden Age, but these days it was treated simply as a will that was nearly impossible to alter or erase.
And yet it was absurdly difficult to make, and ridiculously expensive to boot.
Mom had never been fond of inefficiency while she was alive. She hated ordering people around, found it bothersome, and was famous for just doing everything herself.
By her usual nature, she would never have created something so complicated and costly.
And yet, in that will, my name appeared forty-nine times.
From beginning to end—every clause, condition, and restriction existed solely to protect me.
‘When I think about that…’
I hated it so much I could die, but despite that, I just couldn’t bring myself to say, “I’d rather die and follow Mom than go there with you!”
‘Yeah… I’m doomed.’
I’m doomed. Totally doomed!
I wanted to stomp my feet and scream at the top of my lungs, but I forced it down and turned my back to Ezekiel again, lying on my side. I buried my face into my fluffy northern specialty Morocostbalto plush and gnawed at it.
“I’ve been wondering for a while now.”
“Not interested.”
“That stuffed animal of yours—if it can even be called that—what creature is it supposed to resemble?”
“Don’t talk bad about my Momo.”
“Most children carry around bears or something. Rounder things than what you have.”
Chomp chomp chomp.
‘What does he want from me?’
Instead of answering, I continued nibbling on Momo’s soft but sturdy leather and curled up tighter. It was my silent way of saying: stop talking to me.
“I have no real interest, but that toy looks clearly different from ordinary ones.”
Apparently, he had no intention of picking up on my signals.
‘If you’re not interested, then be quiet. Why keep bothering me?’
He hadn’t been this talkative before, had he? People change with time, sure, but still…
I glared at him with growing suspicion and irritation.
“Your glare is impolite. What is it now that displeases you?”
“Everything! I hate everything!”
I finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. I shot up and sat straight, glaring at him head-on.
“Why are you bothering me so much?!”
“What?”
“I keep telling you I don’t like it! Just because I’m a kid, you think you can ignore me when I say no?”
“I—”
“Don’t want to hear it.”
I cut him off sharply and sneered as meanly as I could.
“Don’t tell me you suddenly want to play daddy now.”
“……”
At that, Ezekiel’s neat eyebrows twitched slightly. He didn’t look angry—more like someone who’d accidentally gotten a paper cut.
‘He couldn’t possibly be hurt by my words… but he does seem a little surprised.’
Not that it mattered. I kept going without pause.
“I don’t need it, so go home and play with your real kid.”
“……There is no other child at home.”
As if I cared. I barely resisted the urge to scoff.
“Then hurry up and go make one.”
“That is also impossible. I have never married, and therefore the current Duke of Ricardt household has no mistress.”
“What?”
I had absolutely no intention of asking again, but the statement was so absurd I couldn’t help it. Looking at him—he looked at least ten years older than when I died.
‘So he must be over thirty by now…’
‘He had a perfectly good fiancée, and he’s the duke now. How on earth is he not married?’
This wasn’t just about continuing the Ricardt bloodline. The entire empire depended on it.
How had the first Duke of Ricardt become a founding hero? Because he possessed overwhelming magical power. And the Ricardt family was still famous for passing powerful magic down through generations.
That power was practically the foundation of their name.
And yet the last direct descendant wasn’t married? Not because he couldn’t have children, but simply because he chose not to?
With the empire barely holding the line against monsters and corruption, and still no next Duke of Ricardt?
There was no way the people around him had stayed quiet about it. The Emperor must have—
‘No, not just a lecture. It wouldn’t be strange if the Emperor had grabbed him by the collar.’
I compressed all those complicated thoughts into one blunt sentence.
“……You look really old, mister.”
Ezekiel’s eyebrow twitched again, but instead of scolding me for rudeness, he only added calmly:
“I am not lying. I have no habit of telling lies that would be immediately exposed—especially not to a child like you. Why would I bother with something so pointless?”
“……”
That was true, but…
I reflexively started to analyze whether he was telling the truth, then shook my head. It wasn’t worth the effort.
Whether the Duke of Ricardt had a wife or children, or even thirty secret bastards, had nothing to do with me anymore.
He wasn’t my father. He’d never even felt like a real brother.
I had no desire to know anything about his life.
The anger that had been boiling in my head quickly cooled. Seeing me grow quiet, Ezekiel suddenly spoke.
“……If you have something you want to say, don’t hold back. Ask what you’re curious about.”
“……Something I want to say?”
I curled my lips into an openly mocking smile. Then I looked straight into Ezekiel’s blue eyes.
They were just as cold and deep as I remembered—but the eyes looking back at him were different now.
Soft, light-green golden eyes inherited from Mom.
Just thinking of them filled my heart with warmth.
I was different now. I wasn’t Beatrice anymore.
“Mister, you’re really stupid. I’ve been saying exactly what I want this whole time. Without asking your permission.”
So there was no reason to feel intimidated, ashamed, or afraid.
“I told you over and over that I don’t feel like talking to anyone.”
“……”
“So please just be quiet. It’s not that hard, is it?”
I narrowed my eyes deliberately and asked one last time.
“You can at least manage that much, right?”
