Ten Years Off My Life
"Hmph. Anyone watching would think that bastard was the star of the banquet."
From the high seat that commanded a full view of the hall, Vanessa propped her chin in her hand and looked down, an irrepressible smile playing on her lips.
Below, Aslan was herding the throng of people about like a shepherd with his flock.
That damned bastard.
This wasn't some ball—it was the welcome banquet for the Fourth Corps Commander.
And yet before the event had even begun he was already acting the lead?
Had the man completely lost his fear?
Or was he running wild precisely because he trusted her?
Just as she wondered whether Aslan had grown altogether too full of himself—
Ah. Neither, it seems.
She caught the desperate look he cast toward the high seat.
His eyelids fluttered in rapid succession, plainly begging to be rescued.
Gathering that crowd had clearly never been his intention.
"I should head down presently."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
How could she ignore a subordinate pleading so urgently for help?
Vanessa uncrossed her legs and rose at a leisurely pace.
At once the guards who had been concealed in the shadows poured forth and formed a tight ring around her.
They usually keep a greater distance than this… such a fuss.
Perhaps the news that she had engaged a secret escort had put them on edge; their vigilance was markedly higher than usual.
Not that the development was unwelcome.
The ideal scenario, after all, was for the whole affair to end without Aslan Belmont ever needing to step forward as her secret guard.
She had no desire to incur another debt to that man.
Last time the price of forgiveness had been the location of the neodymium; heaven only knew what he would demand next…
There were moments when his expression turned so sly she genuinely feared he might one day name imperial consort as his condition.
"What is the meaning of this uproar?"
"Y-Your Majesty…!"
"All of you will maintain your dignity. There will be opportunity enough for Count Belmont's hearing later, so compose yourselves."
"Yes. As you command, Your Majesty."
At a single word from Vanessa the nobles who had been jostling for even one exchange with Aslan spun about as one.
The moment the order fell they scattered in every direction and melted away.
Only then did Aslan heave a sigh of relief and wipe the cold sweat from his brow.
"I have already refused more than thirty marriage proposals, yet they all came charging at me demanding to know the reason for the rejections—hence this disturbance. Thanks to Your Majesty's jest I have lost ten years of my life."
"Jest? Ah, the public hearing. That was no jest but earnest, so you would do well to keep it in mind."
"…?"
Meeting Vanessa's smile, Aslan's face went rigid.
Had the mention of a hearing not been mere invention to scatter the nobles?
Being summoned for a hearing meant nothing less than appointment to a new office.
To Aslan, who knew full well the haggard faces of those who held posts within the palace, the words struck like a bolt from a clear sky.
"Your Majesty. I beg you to reconsider that, at least."
"Hehehe. You have sucked every drop of honey at my side and now refuse to work? Has your conscience sprouted fur?"
"That is not so. A subject of my sort can accomplish far more outside the palace than within it. I pray you make the wise choice."
"Is that so? If I free a subject like you in the name of efficiency, I cannot help feeling the danger that you might one day seize the chance and simply fly away."
"…"
Under that piercing gaze that seemed to bore straight through his pupils, Aslan's body froze solid.
To claim he had never once entertained thoughts of flight would of course be a lie.
Yet such wicked notions occurred no more than ten times a day, and he prided himself on a loyalty of that lofty order, so the accusation left him feeling rather hard done by.
"You know perfectly well I would never flee. I beg you—forgive me just this once…"
"Forgive? I am merely seeking to bring you into the palace because I hold your abilities in high esteem. What talk of forgiveness is this? Quietly await the good news."
"Sister Empress… I don't really understand what it is, but can't you let Mister off just once? If Mister goes to the palace he'll get so busy he won't have as much time for us…"
"Ahem! Ahem! Ahhhhem! Upon careful reflection, your words do have merit! I shall reconsider!"
Charlotte popped her head out from behind him and pleaded.
Faced with that pitiful expression, Vanessa hastily averted her eyes and pretended to clear her throat.
Damn it, Aslan Belmont, you unspeakable bastard.
Pushing children forward to further your own interests.
The sheer cheek made her want to punish him all over again—yet the moment she turned and met the children's faces, every such vicious thought melted away like snow.
What an utterly cheeky scoundrel…
To have taken in and raised two children so pure-hearted and adorable.
Just how many nations had Aslan saved in his previous lives?
Whenever she saw the little ones standing at his sides, trotting after him and gazing up with eyes full of admiration, they looked so endearing that envy of Aslan sent a genuine shiver through her.
Yet it was not as though Aslan had simply been handed an undeserved blessing.
Choosing to take in children even as slaves and to raise them under the full responsibility of one's house was not a path just anyone could take.
To treat complete strangers with such wholehearted devotion…
One almost wondered whether he held them dearer than blood kin.
Wait. Family…?
Vanessa's steps halted.
Standing still, she entertained a distinctly unsettling possibility.
That the damned man treated the children like family because…
they were destined to become family in the future…?
Half in disbelief, Vanessa turned once more.
She fixed Aslan Belmont with a hard stare and spoke.
"Aslan Belmont. I never judge a person by mere worldly rumor, yet…"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"I ask only to be certain. Your purpose in raising these children is not, by any chance, so that you may one day take them as partners…?"
"…!?"
Vanessa posed the question with care.
Aslan's pupils lost all direction and began to shake wildly.
Charlotte and Yulia likewise swallowed hard, eyes fixed on Aslan's lips as they waited for his reply.
Sister Empress said "children." So Mister will naturally say no, right? Because the only one he's after is Yulia…
Surely the only one Mister wanted to betroth was Yulia alone.
Leaving me out…
I mustn't feel disappointed.
I decided long ago that I would make Yulia the Countess.
Charlotte whispered the words to herself like a hypnotic charm, bracing for the blow.
I-is it true? No matter how I think about it, it always seems to be only the maids and the people around us making a fuss—Aslan himself never seems particularly interested in us as marriage prospects… If he is interested in anyone, it's far more in Yuri…
Meanwhile Yulia felt her heart hammering against her ribs.
Charlotte and the maids were forever claiming that Aslan was only waiting for the chance to betroth her.
But that was nothing more than wishful thinking; she knew Aslan treated them with a pure heart.
He probably had no interest in marriage whatsoever…
She had believed that all along and thought she had long since discarded any expectation—
yet now the mere possibility that something unexpected might fall from Aslan's lips set her chest aflutter.
Answer and I die.
And Aslan recognized that he had fallen into the crisis of a lifetime.
A subtle killing intent seemed to radiate from the Empress herself.
If he told the truth? He would probably die.
If he lied? The lie would be seen through and he would probably die.
A perfect dilemma.
Would clamping his mouth shut help? No.
Silence equaled affirmation.
It would look for all the world as though he were dodging the question because something pricked his conscience.
So how was he to answer?
After a lightning-fast spin of the mental gears, Aslan parted his lips.
He had just struck upon a masterstroke.
"An excellent question, Your Majesty. To answer it properly I must first speak of the days when I still lived in seclusion. When Belmont Territory was still the most remote, most backward frontier in the entire Empire, farthest from the capital…"
"…?"
Aslan's reply stretched on and on.
Vanessa, who had at first listened with full concentration, gradually tilted her head.
She had thought the Eye of the Spirit King would lay bare his true intent, yet the colors swiftly muddied into something unreadable.
What on earth was the conclusion? She kept listening, yet the answer showed not the slightest sign of ending.
Just as Vanessa was about to explode in anger—
"…I feel it. And so that day I bought liquor and returned to the mansion. Uncorking the bottle I thought to myself: Is this truly all right? Is Belmont Territory destined to end with nothing more than this? And while I was thinking that…"
"Enough! Get to the point crisply! Do you desire betrothal with the children or do you not!?"
"Your Majesty! Fourth Corps Commander Reinhardt has arrived! He is currently passing through the main gate!"
"Ahhhhh!"
Of all times—now!?
At this crucial moment Reinhardt arrives?
Vanessa had never hated Reinhardt more than she did today.
"…I shall go out to greet Reinhardt."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The star of the grand banquet she herself had arranged had arrived; she could hardly neglect him merely to hear one answer.
Vanessa clicked her tongue and turned away with steps that dripped reluctance.
With a rumble of boots she and her guards set off toward the main gate.
"I'm saved…"
"Mister, Mister! So what's the answer? Tell us at least!"
"I-I'm not particularly curious or anything? But I'll listen for now! …yo!"
While Charlotte and Yulia clung to him pleading, Aslan let out a long sigh of relief and felt the strength drain from his entire body.
He had lost ten years of his life.