Chapter 93: A Rival Appears
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 93: A Rival Appears
Loik sat on the windowsill of Enolius’s room, gazing out.
The view of the Grand Duke’s Castle from the high spire was quite elegant, but it failed to truly register in his mind.
“You’re saying her power is sealed?”
Loik asked in a low voice, watching the sunset slowly drape over the building’s outer walls.
“The seal is just a theory, but I can sense a faint, unusual energy coming from Her Highness the Consort.”
“But you said there was nothing last time.”
Loik recalled the time Enolius had cast recovery magic on Annette.
“At that time, I certainly didn't detect anything.”
The mage shrugged.
Even then, Enolius had mentioned that things were strange—that it made no sense for someone without mana to accept such powerful energy into their body so effortlessly.
“Could it be that she just has a trace amount of mana?”
“For that to be the case, the purity of the energy is exceptionally high. I’m just not certain yet whether it’s mana or holy power,” Enolius said, rolling his eyes. “It might actually be more accurate to have a priest look into it.”
“But the Grand Duchess…”
She seemed to have no awareness of such a thing at all.
“Isn’t it a bit strange?” Enolius asked. “Her Highness, I mean. Wasn't she famous for being a fake saint?”
Loik frowned at the irreverent remark, but it was a story he had heard many times before.
A girl who was revered as a saint because of a prophecy, only to be pointed at and mocked by everyone once the real saint appeared…
A sudden pang shot through his chest, and Loik pressed his lips thin.
How much that young girl must have suffered.
“If Her Highness had manifested even a shred of holy power—no matter how small—people wouldn't have doubted that she was the real saint.”
If someone had forcibly sealed Annette’s holy power…
Was it the Marquis?
But the Marquis had nothing to gain from sealing his own daughter’s power. On the contrary, he would have squeezed out even the most microscopic drop of holy power to keep Annette on the pedestal of a saint.
“Can the seal be broken?”
“I’m not even sure if it is a seal yet. There’s very little to go on. Besides, we don’t know if the seal was forced or not,” Enolius said with a nonchalant face. “Just ask Her Highness honestly.”
Instead of answering, Loik turned his gaze back out the window.
For some reason, he couldn't find the courage.
If Annette had sealed her power of her own will, she must have had a reason for not telling him.
Conversely, if she had been forcibly sealed without knowing anything, she would surely be hurt. It would mean she had lived her whole life enduring criticism she never should have heard.
Furthermore, this was all just Enolius’s speculation.
If Annette were to get her hopes up only to find out the power wasn't holy power, or that there was no seal to begin with, how disappointed would she be?
“Don’t mention this to the Grand Duchess.”
At Loik’s firm command, Enolius looked slightly dissatisfied but quietly held his tongue.
Loik watched the sun sink for a long while before finally leaving the tower.
Walking back toward the main castle, Loik wiped his weary face.
He had only missed one evening of work.
When he reached his office, there would undoubtedly be a mountain of documents waiting for him.
…I miss her.
Loik habitually toyed with the cravat Annette had tied for him.
It had been only a day since he realized his feelings by the lake.
And then, before he even had time to process those feelings, his body had suffered an overload.
As if telling him to know his place.
As if warning him not to dare dream of a future with Annette.
He hadn't even decided how to move forward yet.
To make matters worse, the Marchioness’s visit meant he had to be discreet about meeting Annette.
The Marquis was truly a man who provided zero help in his life.
Still, it was a relief that the invitation of the delegation was proceeding smoothly thanks to her help.
How had he even lived before she arrived?
How else? He had worked like a dead man, devoid of thought.
Back then, there was nothing in his life, so he had no complaints or resentments.
But now, everything about this situation was utterly frustrating.
I need to hire more people.
He needed to delegate the trivial tasks so he could spend more time with Annette…
As he thought that, something heavy settled in his heart again.
It was always like this.
Every time he tried to imagine a future with Annette, his circumstances held him back.
The task at hand was clear.
I have to break the curse, no matter what.
Only then would he have at least a chance of courting her.
But how?
He had spent nearly his entire life searching for a solution only to give up; would one just suddenly appear now because he started looking again?
Still, I have to try.
More importantly, before he went to deal with work, he needed to check on Annette first.
Since the Marchioness had stormed the castle, Annette was likely troubled deep down, even if she didn't show it.
She was probably already exhausted from spending the night with him.
At the thought of "spending the night," the tips of his ears turned bright red.
The memory of her looking so lovely, opening her eyes languidly while held in his arms, flashed through his mind.
I want to see her soon.
His pace quickened with urgency.
He was taking a shortcut through the garden instead of his usual route when he heard it.
The sound of a child’s giggle and Annette’s laughter.
Loik turned toward the sound as if possessed.
Annette wasn't alone.
She seemed to be having tea with the boy she called her youngest brother.
Maybe it’s better not to show up until Annette introduces us.
He was debating whether to just leave when the boy whined at Annette, and she popped a piece of cake into his small mouth.
If he was attending the Academy, he had to be at least ten years old.
Loik didn't like the way the big kid was clinging to Annette’s side as if he were a toddler.
As Loik strode closer, Annette spotted him, her face lighting up with joy.
The young boy, however, showed the exact opposite reaction, his face twisting in clear displeasure.
“So this is where you were.”
“Perfect timing. I wanted to introduce you to my brother.”
But when Annette turned to look at him, the boy flashed a bright smile as if his previous expression had never existed.
“Raphael. You should greet the Grand Duke.”
Raphael stood up and offered a greeting with a stoic face.
“Greetings, Your Grace. I am Raphael Frais.”
Loik accepted the greeting with an equally stoic expression.
“He said he followed me here because he missed me.”
Annette stroked Raphael’s curly hair with a look of pure adoration.
Seeing her so happy caused Loik’s wariness to fade slightly.
He welcomed anything that made Annette smile.
“Make yourself at home during your stay.”
“It’s not my home, though…” Raphael muttered under his breath.
“Raphael.”
When Annette spoke in a mock-scolding tone, the boy pouted.
“But it’s not your home either, Sister.”
Annette looked at Raphael with a troubled expression, wondering why he was suddenly acting this way.
“This is the Grand Duchess’s home now,” Loik countered firmly before he could stop himself.
Whether it was an adult or a child, the facts needed to be stated clearly.
At that, Raphael’s small brow furrowed fiercely.
“A home should be a place where you feel at ease. Sister isn't at ease here at all.”
Startled by those words, Loik looked at Annette.
Is it because of what happened today?
Realizing the implication of his gaze, Annette’s eyes widened, and she waved her hands at her brother.
“Raphael, who said that? I’m doing wonderfully here.”
“Aren't the people here bullying you? Sister, your lips are all swollen!”
At those words, without a hint of exaggeration, Annette turned as red as a tomato from her neck to her face.
“I-It’s not like that.”
For some reason, Annette’s eyes flickered toward her own lips.
“The people here treat me so well. Right, Reta?”
Reta, who had stepped back a distance when Loik appeared, answered sharply.
“There is likely no one in the Grand Duke’s Castle who would dare serve Her Highness poorly. Her Highness receives the respect and affection of every servant here.”
“Oh, well, not that much…”
Annette made a flustered sound as if the answer was an exaggeration, but Loik nodded, satisfied with the response.
“Liar.”
Raphael said, clenching his small fists.
“There’s no way the people here would be nice to my sister!”
“Raphael! You mustn't say such things.”
Annette hurriedly checked Loik’s reaction and grabbed Raphael’s hand.
“Oh my, look at the time.”
There wasn't a clock in sight.
“Loik, I should take Raphael back to his room. We’ll be going now!”
As Annette pulled Raphael along by the hand, the boy followed his sister as if relenting.
But Loik saw it clearly.
The way the boy looked back at him, baring his teeth like an angry little puppy.
I didn't expect this.
To be kept at bay by such fierce hissing.
The little brat seemed to have a considerable possessive streak regarding his sister.
Surely he won't try to coax his sister into returning to the capital, will he?
Watching the maid and knight hurriedly follow after the retreating Annette and Raphael, Loik felt a bit grim.
For some reason, it felt like the obstacles were only continuing to pile up.