“I’ll see you home.”
“I don’t mind going alone.”
“I promised your mercenaries earlier that I’d escort you safely.”
“That promise was made to His Highness, wasn’t it? How does it concern me?”
“His Highness…! Please, don’t call me that.”
Alcard realized today why she no longer called him “older brother.” It was simple: she no longer considered him family.
After countless rejections and even contemplating divorce, how humiliating it must have been for him to show up after several years, calling himself her brother.
Alcard wished he could turn back time to the day she got married. If only he could overturn the ceremony or whisk Karia away—anything would have sufficed.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not realizing how much you suffered. No, for not even trying. There’s no excuse. I was too busy living my life to care about you. Father and my brother behaved the same, so I should have been more attentive.”
Karia walked beside him, utterly annoyed by Alcard’s endless excuses. She covered her ears, signaling she didn’t want to listen, but he persisted. Finally, her patience exhausted, she stopped in place and shot him a glare sharp enough to pierce steel.
“You dare speak ill of Father and my brother? You think of yourself as flawless, don’t you? It’s too late. Stop it. I’m too busy today to forgive the negligence of His Highness.”
“I’m not asking for forgiveness. I followed you to see if there’s anything I can do to help you now.”
“Help me? What could His Highness possibly do?”
Alcard fell silent, eyes darting left and right. After thinking for a long while, his answer was ridiculously simple, like a child’s:
“Should I go and give Duke Pandeon a good beating?”
“Hah! That’s so like you.”
“I’m not joking. I actively support your divorce, so if you need anything, just say it.”
“You should’ve said that in front of the Emperor.”
Support my divorce? Absurd. The obedient dog who followed the Emperor’s orders, even strapping on his iron sword and charging into his own house… what a joke.
Yet, when Karia tried to shrug it off, Alcard offered a surprising explanation.
“If I said it openly in front of His Majesty, I’d be restrained. My power comes from him and Father, so to use it against their will, I must act quietly.”
“Are you really going to help me?”
“I said I would.”
“Why? I’ve always come after your family. Father might even scold you.”
Alcard gave a bitter smile at her half-joking, half-serious threat. He guessed she knew, but thinking of the hurt caused by his ambiguous behavior made his chest ache.
“I know. I’ve always been torn between you and my family. I cared for you in my heart, but I didn’t help when it mattered, afraid of distancing myself from family. You can call me a hypocrite, and you’d be right.”
“Hmph.”
“But today, watching you fight His Majesty alone, I was sure—who should come first, whom I should protect. So…”
“Will you trust me one more time?” Alcard didn’t voice it, instead appealing with his eyes. Karia silently examined his guilt-stained face.
‘Whether I can trust him or not, it’s clear he’s not the kind to betray me like this. He doesn’t ask for forgiveness either. Maybe I could test him once or twice…’
She said neither “I forgive you” nor reproached him. Instead, she shifted her gaze forward.
She had much to prepare; she couldn’t waste time here.
“Then, can you tell me where to request an audience? I want to officially speak to His Majesty at the grand audience tomorrow.”
“Request an audience? In front of all the meritorious officials? Duke Pandeon will probably be there.”
“His Majesty told me to enjoy my privileges as a Duchess. I intend to do just that.”
Karia smiled gently. Her smile was so kind and tender that Alcard almost smiled along, remembering her as the eight-year-old girl he first met, feeling like a little friend.
Yet, he soon remembered: a smile does not only express joy.
“Ah, you’re back, Lady!”
“Butler, where are you?”
When Karia returned to her townhouse, Shagal ran up to her like a dog waiting for its owner, following her closely.
Even though he spoke eagerly, Karia ignored him and began speaking as if he wasn’t there.
“Butler, I want to ask the elder something. What would I give him to persuade him?”
“Lady! I have something I want to ask!”
“If it’s a request…? If it’s easy, he’ll probably grant it without compensation.”
“Lady, yesterday… last night where you went!”
“It’s nothing special. But why would that stubborn elder do me a favor without compensation? Perhaps alcohol, or jewelry…”
“Lady!”
At the twelfth “Lady,” Karia turned sharply, shooting him a fierce glare. Shagal froze, his mouth shut tight.
“Butler, if I send a letter now, can he arrive by tomorrow morning?”
“Tomorrow morning? Well, it takes three to four hours one way to the estate, and it’s already afternoon. Besides, I can’t be sure he’ll be at the mansion, so it might be difficult.”
“Hm… then who can I entrust? Someone who can accompany me to the grand audience…”
“Is there a problem?”
As she pondered the perfect execution of tomorrow’s big event, Noah interrupted. Karia looked up casually, then suddenly burst out laughing.
“What on earth are you wearing?”
Unable to contain herself, she clutched her stomach laughing. Noah looked embarrassed, though his appearance was actually quite impressive.
Red satin fitted armor, a black cloak, and a fine sword at his waist. His previously messy black hair was neatly swept back, revealing his handsome face.
He looked every bit a young noble knight. Passersby would turn to look. Yet Karia found it hilarious.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Hmph, that face with knight armor… it’s so mismatched.”
She remembered the man who could barely lift a pen heavier than a feather. Gilford, once an orphan, survived as an alchemist, then lived as a nobleman after marrying her.
Seeing Noah wield a sword and dressed as a knight was so incongruous that she couldn’t help but laugh.
Noah’s expression became increasingly complicated as Karia enjoyed the sight.
“Actually, my name is Noah Trantes. I’m the Baron of Trantes, a small region at the northern edge of the Empire. I’ve been hiding my identity while working as a mercenary…”
“Let me guess: finances were so tight that you had to hide your identity and work as a mercenary, but after getting angry at Alcard this morning, you revealed yourself, put on your family sword, and appeared here?”
“Ah… yes, that’s right.”
“You know I don’t entirely believe that, right?”
Noah blushed and looked away. He didn’t expect her to call him out so directly.
He cleared his throat, trying to brush off his embarrassment. Once boldly revealed, he would remain bold to the end.
“Whether you believe it or not isn’t important. What matters is that as ‘Noah Trantes,’ I can follow you anywhere, Lady. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
The Emperor receives audiences from nobles every morning. It’s mostly political maneuvering, as nobles try to impress the Emperor or one another. This is called an “audience.”
Karia planned to present a very precious gift to His Majesty during tomorrow’s audience.
However, if she carried it herself, her humble uncle would refuse it. She needed someone to deliver it secretly.
Noah, as a Baron, was in the perfect position. Nobles of his rank or lower would be ushered in in large groups at the start of the audience, making it ideal for a discreet delivery.
“Very well, Baron Trantes. I have a request for you; will you hear me out?”
