Chapter 25
Chapter 25
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.7 – Irene Windler is the Girl Next Door (5)
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"-Your Highness, is it truly alright to proceed like this?"
[What's that?]
"...I'm not sure if it's right to leave that young lady with such a suspicious man by her side."
[Anyone would think you were the girl's father with how worried you are. More than me, even.]
"...My apologies."
Lark bowed his head.
He was a prideful man, but one who would lay down his life for the duke he revered without hesitation.
That was Lark.
And so, to him, Irene Windler was not merely a genius mage—she was his "benefactor."
'Things have changed since she arrived.'
In a good way.
The duke had suffered from madness ever since losing his wife.
Where had that brilliant mind of old gone? Infected by the demonic sword's frenzy, he had grown increasingly cruel, a heartache that tore at them all.
Thankfully, he never unleashed that cruelty on the innocent, directing it only toward criminals. Yet the scent of blood never fully left the duke's estate because of it.
Then she appeared.
Beauty like a fairy's.
A gentle smile like warm sunlight, as if his wife had returned to life.
After she arrived, the duke smiled warmly as if he'd never known madness, reverting to the brilliant lord of old.
She was the duke's estate's great fortune, its blessing.
And she herself was a gift, a grace.
Thus, Lark was determined to protect her with his life if any threat arose.
...And above all, there was another reason he had to guard her.
[It's fine. He's better than I expected. He won't threaten the girl.]
"......"
[You still look dissatisfied.]
"...She might be Your Highness's... your wife's daughter."
[You're crossing the line.]
"...My apologies."
But it had to be said.
Yes, Irene Windler was very likely Duke Blake's...
biological child.
This was something Duke Blake felt most acutely himself, and a poorly kept secret that several in the duke's household already knew without saying aloud.
The Pendragon royals seemed to have caught on as well, meaning Duke Galahad knew too.
Yet they did not announce it.
[Nothing is certain yet. Restrain yourself.]
"......"
[Hmph, you impudent fool. Now I see you're even less disciplined than 'that one.']
"...Your Highness is too cautious."
[Indeed, I am 'Your Highness.' So I must remain cold, unable to embrace a child who might be my own blood.]
"...Ah!"
Duke Blake's words rang true.
There was a possibility Irene was his daughter, but they couldn't simply assume it as fact.
She resembled "her," but where was the proof she was truly his child?
What if she was merely someone who looked alike?
...Duke Blake lacked the confidence to deal with the aftermath later.
Politically... and emotionally.
Thus, Duke Blake kept it all hidden, accepting her only as a ward.
The estate, ravaged by his madness to the point of ruin, needed time to recover. For the foreseeable future, he lacked the time to investigate her fully.
[That's why I need that man. I don't know his exact connection to Isis, but he was surely ordered to monitor Irene by my nephew. A most fitting choice, just like him.]
He had been surprised during the investigation.
To think such talent lurked in the knight order.
The White Silver Lion Knights had begun to decline after Sir Baltar, a stroke of luck for the royals.
And for House Galahad as well.
[Monitoring means he'll also ensure Irene's safety. I can trust him with that.]
He felt no displeasure at his nephew having Isis monitor his ward.
He would have done the same.
No, he would have been even harsher.
In that sense, his nephew was still a "soft child."
"...Even so, he's weaker than me. Send me instead."
But Lark still couldn't accept it.
His face brimmed with dissatisfaction.
Watching his disciple like this, the duke smirked.
[A man who looks ready to collapse any second, all talk.]
"I-I won't collapse."
[Sure you won't.]
The duke and the knights shook their heads, at a loss for words.
Lark de Duron.
House Galahad's rising star, a young knight certain to become the next Aura User.
They had seen how his limbs trembled like aspen leaves—unsightly.
Pride keeping him from admitting it, but surely his insides were churning.
[Hurry and drink your potion, you pitiful thing.]
"I-I'm fine."
[Blood's dripping from your mouth, you idiot.]
"...Kh."
Drip.
Lark was pale as a ghost, and the duke clicked his tongue at the sight.
What a pitiful fool.
[This is why knights are...]
That one, this one.
None of them acted like adults.
Well.
[Better than those lecherous 'vermin,' at least.]
A chill glint flickered in Duke Blake's eyes.
Not directed at the knights.
But at...
[Is the grand duke's house raising rats?]
The "rats" who thought they hid stealthily from their midst.
And the one called a rat...
"The duke has a foul mouth. Don't you think so, Jack?"
"What do you mean, sir?"
"Just a feeling."
"...Sometimes you say the strangest things."
"I know."
The young lion of the grand duke's house, with black hair that suited him perfectly, nodded coolly, while his loyal retainer muttered "Why's he like this again?" and shook his head.
Even though it was his lord, some things were just hard to understand.
"...What are you doing?"
Meanwhile, when Lee Han entered the house, fortunately, the two women seemed oblivious to the major commotion outside.
He had mentioned splitting firewood beforehand, so they likely chalked up the noise as that.
They were quite a distance away, so voices wouldn't have carried.
And thanks to the potion, he returned unscathed.
A stroke of luck, perhaps.
He hadn't shown his humiliating side.
However, upon entering, Lee Han was bewildered by what the two were doing.
And the one caught in the act...
"O-Oh, you're back."
She looked just as flustered.
Like a child caught red-handed at mischief, startled.
"...Cadet Irene. What is this?"
"W-Well, while talking with the maid... it just sort of happened..."
"...And that led to you trying on a dress? Wait, do we even have a dress in this house?"
"Hehe, this is mine! What do you think, knight? Isn't it beautiful?"
"...Yeah, it's flashy."
"Hehe, it's too flashy, so I rarely wear it."
"...And you put this on her?"
"I thought it would suit Lady Irene perfectly!"
"!!?"
They were holding a fashion show.
Having just dealt with serious matters outside, seeing this complete contrast nearly shook Lee Han's recent resolve.
Yet his gaze still followed Irene. Indeed...
'She's pretty.'
She exuded the fresh innocence fitting her flower-like age.
Her signature golden hair and blue eyes radiated a mystical beauty.
The dress was overly ornate, but Irene Windler, an excellent model, carried even the excessive gown with ease.
But did it make his heart race?
'It'd be nice to have a little sister just like her.'
Unfortunately, Lee Han was at an age where his romantic cells were dying off; he wasn't the type to feel attraction to a mere kid.
Like an uncle proud of his favorite idol's hard work?
Exactly that level.
Unaware of this, Irene blushed under his gaze and bowed her head.
It smelled faintly of misunderstanding.
But then.
"Milady, don't be shy—show him that. You've been practicing so hard."
"T-That one's a bit..."
"Come on, when if not now?"
"S-Still..."
"...Practicing?"
What were they talking about?
The next moment, the hesitant girl slightly lifted the hem of her dress, bent her knees a touch, and tilted her head.
...What was that?
"Knight, that's a curtsey. It's a noble greeting. Pretty pose, right?"
"...Pre, tty?"
To him, it looked like a doll creaking awkwardly.
"Ah, I'm not used to it yet."
Irene, newly noble, wasn't yet accustomed to noble greetings.
Why skip meals to practice that, anyway?
Noble culture was something else...
"Hehe, you're just not used to it yet. Once you are, it flows like this, naturally."
Smooth.
Leira gracefully lifted her skirt just enough to show a hint of ankle, bent her knees, and tilted her head—like Irene had, but...
"......"
It was clean. Upright.
So fluid and precise it left him speechless for a moment.
"Ha..."
Surprisingly, watching her melted away today's frustrations in a rush of refreshment.
Yes, in this moment.
'...Pretty.'
This "pretty" was surely a wholly different sentiment from what he'd felt for Irene moments ago.
Thus, Lee Han learned for the first time that the ways of high society weren't all pointless frippery.
"...Worth skipping meals to practice."
He even voiced it himself.
Lee Han now recognized the maid he'd dismissed as dim as a lady rivaling a blooming rose.
...
And the heroine, having suffered this humiliating defeat...
[...Arin, let's practice curtseys more starting today, got it?]
'...Yeah.'
She swallowed her tears with the humiliation and vowed revenge.