So, I'll Act Spoiled
Suddenly, Liriet collapsed and was hurriedly carried to her bedroom by Baal. About five minutes had passed since then.
“Liriet!”
“Young miss!”
The Argent couple came rushing in barefoot. Club, the family physician sitting by the bedside, adjusted his glasses and stepped aside.
Edmund examined Liriet, who lay with her eyes quietly closed, then demanded of Club in a scolding tone.
“Club, what happened? Our daughter suddenly collapsing like this—what on earth…!”
“Please calm down, family head. Fortunately, there are no visible wounds or major physical issues.”
“That's exactly the problem! No abnormalities at all—then why did she collapse?!”
Edmund's question seemed to speak for Baal as well. Though Baal wasn't a doctor and couldn't diagnose in detail, he'd checked her condition by infusing mana. Liriet was fine. Usually, when something went wrong with the body, the first sign was disruption in the flow of mana—and that part was at least stable.
“It could be mild anemia or accumulated fatigue. The check shows no major problems, but I suspect some stress.”
“Stress…”
Edmund murmured lowly, as if something clicked.
Stress, huh. That was certainly possible. Even though more than a month had passed since then.
Liriet had been through quite a lot lately. Above all, a child who hardly moved before was suddenly undergoing intense training and going out frequently, so fatigue building up was very likely. She might not have shown it, but it could have condensed into stress subconsciously.
“Darling, maybe because of me…”
“It's not your fault. It's probably because this inadequate father has been visiting every day, tiring her out. And she's worried so much.”
The Argent couple tried to take the blame on themselves. Of course, it couldn't be entirely dismissed.
But to Baal, it somehow seemed like a minor factor. Just recalling recent conversations with Liriet proved it.
She showed no signs of struggling with her relationship with them. On the contrary, one day she'd say, “Mother gave me a fun book as a gift,” and another, “Father told me an interesting story today.” She'd only mentioned good things about them.
She was such a good child that she might just avoid badmouthing them. But Liriet, who occasionally whined a little in front of him, didn't seem the type.
So, what could have suddenly stressed Liriet? Pondering it, there was only one answer.
Me.
She'd heard in advance that he was leaving. And she'd even noticed he was hiding it.
Maybe the stress from that had worn her down mentally.
Unconsciously, strength entered the hand resting on his thigh.
“For now, we can only monitor her condition. She should avoid strenuous activity for the time being and focus on recuperation. I'll prescribe some tonics to restore her vitality.”
“Thank you, Club.”
“Yes. Oh, and it might be good to have someone stay by her side.”
“I'll…”
As Kasdia tried to continue, Baal cut in.
“I'll do it.”
“You'll do it? Aren't you supposed to leave tomorrow?”
“How could I worry about that when my niece is ill? I have some time left in my schedule anyway. Right, Ern?”
Asking Ern, who stood blankly behind, the boy nodded.
“Yeah. At least four days should be fine.”
“So, I'll stay until Liriet recovers within those four days.”
Normally, Edmund would have refused here. He'd say he was grateful but they'd watch her, so Baal should attend to his duties. But whether due to Baal's gaze or deeming it right to entrust her to him, after exchanging looks with Kasdia, he silently nodded.
“Understood. If that's your will…”
“Please take good care of her, young master. We'll check in periodically.”
“Of course.”
Having secured the nursing role, Baal stroked Liriet's forehead and tidied her disheveled hair as she lay with eyes closed.
“……”
A fairy tale of Snow White from a childhood book came to mind. Like waiting for a prince's kiss, Liriet slept so peacefully.
“Mm…”
“Feeling better?”
“…Yes, Uncle.”
About an hour later, Liriet woke. She looked surprisingly serene. No frantic looking around, no surprise at finding herself in bed.
“You passed out. Have you not been sleeping well lately?”
“I've been sleeping soundly. No need to worry too much.”
“…I see.”
Baal closed the book he was reading, set it on the table, and pulled his chair closer to Liriet.
Checking for fever, he placed a hand on her forehead.
“Ah…!”
“…?”
Somehow, Liriet flinched back with a startled face. That reaction surprised Baal more.
“S-Sorry. You put your hand there suddenly, so I got startled…”
“No, this uncle was too casual.”
He tried to sound calm, but it felt odd. Normally, even when he stroked her without warning, she'd be delighted.
What was that just now—that look of aversion?
Am I… hated now?
Maybe she was angry because he hadn't told her about leaving. Entirely possible.
Better not approach her too casually for a while. No need to earn more resentment.
“Aren't you hungry?”
“I'm fine. Have you eaten while nursing me, Uncle?”
“Gilbert just brought food, so don't worry.”
Of course, it was a lie. How could he eat with Liriet ill? But she'd worry otherwise, so he lied to smooth things over.
“…Okay.”
Liriet gave him a strangely subtle look. Like she had something to say but couldn't.
“Club mentioned you might have been stressed lately. Any worries?”
“……”
She always replied to him in one second flat. Today, her silence stretched long.
Baal took that silence as the answer.
“…Was it because of this uncle?”
“Huh? H-How did you…”
“I knew. Who wouldn't?”
So it was. He smiled bitterly, eyes cast down.
“Sorry. I wanted to tell you myself, but you heard it from someone else.”
“No. It's not your fault, Uncle. It's just that I'm too weak…”
Weak? Among everyone he'd seen, the strongest child—what was she saying?
“Honestly, I didn't expect you'd regret it so much. I didn't consider your feelings enough.”
“Because you thought I was a good child?”
“Yes. Maybe because you're such a good child, I casually assumed you'd understand no matter what.”
Precisely, even if Liriet cherished him, he thought his brief absence was separate. She was strong enough. He'd presumed she'd be fine without him.
But Liriet was right too. Partly, he figured a child like her wouldn't miss him over a short trip.
Either way, he'd judged her on his own terms. That was fact—and his mistake.
“…What am I to you, Uncle?”
“A strong, cute, good niece.”
“All wrong. I'm not particularly strong, or cute, or good.”
A self-deprecating mutter. Normally, he'd tease her relentlessly, listing her virtues until she blushed.
But not today. Her eyes forbade it. They held a deepened lake's depth, like she'd reflected on herself countless times.
He wasn't fool enough to dive in blindly.
“Why do you think that?”
So he asked. Right now, he just wanted to know why she belittled herself so.
“I've reached the level to beat Brother, but I'm still far from being strong like you, Uncle.”
“You'll get there someday. And to me, you're plenty strong already.”
And he wanted to refute each point directly, like now.
“N-Not cute either!”
“At least to this uncle, you're the cutest in the world.”
“Hmph…”
She snorted, but her lips twitched up.
“I'm not a good child either. I was even sulking at you for leaving me behind.”
“That's a normal feeling. Even when a father who's played with them all day wants a break, kids get upset.”
Spoiled behavior wasn't for nothing. Kids this age should throw tantrums.
Nothing as boring and sad to adults as a child growing up too fast.
“…Then you don't hate me, Uncle?”
“Of course not.”
“Even if I'm a bad child who acts spoiled and mopes alone when you leave?”
“That makes me happy.”
Acting spoiled meant closeness. Mourning his absence meant she valued him.
“Then, can you indulge a few of my tantrums?”
“As many as you want.”
“I want to eat.”
“Hm?”
Eat? That was for the kitchen, not him.
Ah, maybe bring food? Easy enough.
Ding-a-ling.
He shook the bell on the table, and a maid entered as the door opened.
“Bring food for Liriet.”
“Yes.”
Soon, a mild soup-based tray arrived for the ailing Liriet, hearty but not heavy.
“Here. I worried you might not have an appetite, but good.”
He balanced the tray to place it on her lap—
“That's not it, Uncle.”
“Not it?”
Liriet pushed the tray away, pouting at him.
Did he mess up? Blinking, she ducked her head, cheeks flushing, voice tiny.
“F-Feed me.”
“…What?”
For a moment, he thought he'd misheard.
Wait, so…
She wanted him to spoon-feed her?
“F-First tantrum. Feed me yourself, Uncle.”
“Uh, um…”
“…Can't you?”
As he hesitated, Liriet looked up with pleading eyes, like an abandoned kitten. His heart softened.
“How could I refuse? Say ahh.”
“Heehee, blow on it first.”
“R-Right.”
He blew on the hot soup to cool it, then scooped it up. Liriet tucked her hair behind her ear and ate demurely.
Whether she truly lacked the strength or just wanted to act spoiled this way, watching her brought a smile.
“First tantrum. For the next four days, feed me yourself, Uncle.”
“Sure.”
Hm? Had he said he was leaving in four days? He'd mentioned it with Ern earlier, but Liriet was out then…
“And second tantrum.”
As he pondered, Liriet raised her index then middle finger.
“What is it?”
“Stay by my side the whole four days.”
He'd planned that anyway. Ern could sightsee alone anyway. No need for the guest to babysit…
Wait. The whole time?
…Why did that word have extra emphasis? Probably nothing, but to confirm—
“Liriet? Just to check, 'whole time' means…”
“Yes, even when sleeping. The bed's big enough—just for four days, sleep with me.”
“……”
For a brief moment, he wondered if a little devil had donned his precious niece's skin to trick him.
Well, she's just feeling lonely belatedly.
His sister from his past life had acted spoiled like that until middle school.