The Lord's Exclusive Favor and the Foolish Boy's Folly
"Then I'll prepare some clothes and come back to see you."
"See to it."
The attendant bowed to Ardella before closing the door to the side chamber and withdrawing.
Only then did Ardella remove the helmet from her head. Flawless silver hair cascaded down past her shoulders. As she hung the helmet on its stand, Ardella pondered.
'What in the world is Mother thinking?'
Ardella felt a rare headache coming on. Not long ago, she'd suddenly been called to the border, only for her to vanish for two days. Naturally, she couldn't discover the destination. Not a single trace had been left behind.
But she hadn't paid it much mind. Her mother was prone to eccentric whims at the best of times, so Ardella assumed this was just more of the same.
Until she arrived here today, that is.
"I never imagined she'd go see Smith in person."
The two-day gap. The destination: Molingta. The purpose: to see Smith face-to-face. Ardella was certain of it. How could she not be? She'd spotted the family crest-embossed carriage here—one that only the family head herself could ride.
There was a story the old butler had told her as a child. About the current king's youth. Back when she was still a princess, she'd visited the estate and fallen head over heels for the silver hawk-embossed carriage at first sight. The princess had begged the then-family head Ardella for a ride, but Ardella had refused outright. The old butler said he'd never forget the faces of the family retainers present and the princess's royal guards who'd accompanied her.
'To lend Smith the carriage she wouldn't even give to the princess of old—now the king...'
That alone told Ardella just how much her mother—the family head—favored Smith.
"...It's more than just liking him."
She had no idea what motives lay behind such favoritism toward Smith, but one thing was clear: it had thrown Ardella's own plans into disarray, and that was a blatant mistake.
The successive territorial skirmishes on the barony, the few who backed out mid-way with penalty fees, Kernax's mobilization... all of it had been Ardella's scheme at Viscount Biolin's request.
Originally, today was meant to see Viscount Biolin's eldest daughter Rania crippled, her brought-in soldiers all slain. A handful of knights would join second daughter Lenia's command, while the rest faced kingdom justice based on their crimes' severity.
The justification was ironclad. They'd insulted the dispatched baronial knights and soldiers for reinforcements, defied Lenia—the officially appointed city overseer and skirmish commander—and arbitrarily deployed troops on their own. For anyone not the viscount's eldest daughter, but a mere noble, it would've warranted immediate beheading.
But then Ardella's eyes fell on that crest-embossed carriage, and she faltered—not that it showed on her face. She quickly regained composure and tried to proceed as planned.
Until she learned of Smith.
Family shadow Beneo had relayed: "A man rides in the carriage. The head said to act as your heart desires."
Ardella, no stranger to bloodshed, could've slaughtered hundreds of soldiers here without batting an eye. But she didn't want Smith witnessing that—or risk shocking him. So she'd scrapped the plan.
Thankfully, Lenia had adapted accordingly. And for the first time, Ardella thought it unlike herself.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Ardella, unconsciously furrowing her brow in thought, lifted her head at the interrupting knock. The crease smoothed naturally.
—Lady Ardella. It's Lenia.
"Enter."
After a breath's pause, the door opened, and Lenia entered the side chamber. She tilted her head in greeting to Ardella, then froze. Even to another woman, Ardella's beauty was overwhelming.
But Lenia quickly recovered and apologized for her rudeness.
"Enough. More importantly, sorry for derailing the plan."
"No, it worked out better. Handing those scum over to you and your knights had been weighing on me. Thanks to you, my heart's much lighter."
"Glad you see it that way."
"I'm the grateful one. As for the rest, just throw them to the front lines as cannon fodder in the next skirmish. Promise to pardon their crimes based on effort, and they'll charge to their deaths gripping their swords."
The Lenia bowing in thanks for sparing the soldiers was gone. She wasn't merciful enough to let live the trash who'd committed atrocities under eldest daughter Rania's wing. Nor would she leave Rania—arrogant, elitist spawn of her noble father's influence—to roam free.
"Lady Ardella, my knowledge is limited, so I don't know the full significance of your family's crest. Is it powerful enough justification to drag Rania down?"
"The current king, as princess, once begged Mother for a ride. Mother refused flat-out. The miffed princess returned to the palace, and days later, the previous king sent Mother an apology letter."
"...More than enough."
Lenia swallowed dryly. The carriage the young king coveted—and which her father apologized for. To dare scratch it with her boot and try ripping it off with soldiers? No joke; heads would've rolled on the spot.
'This'll do it...'
Lenia trailed off mid-thought and looked up. Ardella did the same.
A young boy's scream echoed from outside. Both rose.
Ardella opened the side chamber door first and peered out... to see Smith gripping the boy's collar.
**
"Miss...!! Look at my state. I really, really almost died!!"
The boy, now recovered, sat in a chair watching Ardella and Lenia, fervently explaining how I was the villain. Thrusting out his swollen cheek and head, he painted himself the pitiful, wronged victim in an impassioned tirade.
I just watched silently. Simple reason: Ardella and Lenia's expressions toward him were ice-cold.
Then Ardella raised a hand. Shut your mouth.
Not utterly clueless, the boy clamped his yapping jaw shut.
Only then did Ardella turn to me.
"Smith. Explain."
"Yes, ma'am. So here's what happened..."
I fleshed it out a bit but stuck to the plain facts, recounting it all to Ardella. Lenia, beside me, flushed red.
"L-Lies!! Why would I, with everything I have, do someth—"
"Silence."
"Eek...!!"
The side chamber's air turned frigid in an instant.
"You types labor under a common delusion. You screw up but don't get harshly punished, lie without getting caught, commit wrongs and get quick forgiveness. You think it's all because you're so damn great. But that's just your delusion."
Ardella's blue eyes glinted. Goosebumps prickled my arms as the air chilled brutally.
"The only reason trash like you keeps a servant's post is you're too worthless for real punishment. Nothing outstanding about you—not even menial chores, which you'd botch worse than a maid. You really think you have any value as a servant? You look like you have words. Speak."
"...I-I don't know why this guest insults lowly servants like us... But I'm a proud one, selected fairly after the baron's tests."
Lenia, seated beside Ardella, turned beet red.
"A proud servant, eh? Fine. Recite your duties here as one."
"I-I'm still young, so I follow the other servants, learning the ropes..."
"How long your tenure?"
"A little over a year."
"Hahaha."
Ardella let out a small laugh. Sweat beaded down my back despite the chill—her voice laughed, but her face didn't twitch.
The laugh stopped.
"You just confessed your own worthlessness to me. Yet you're too dim to realize it. What a pathetic wretch. Lenia."
"Yes... Lady Ardella."
"Remove him."
"...Yes."
Lenia rose. The boy spasmed.
"Miss!! How can you not believe me?! Look at me!! Anyone can see I'm the victim!!"
"..."
Lenia approached the convulsing boy.
"Mis—"
Slap—!!
The boy toppled sideways. Red drops splattered from his face below, staining the carpet.
"M-Miss...?"
Dazed, he lifted his head. Blood streamed like water from under his nose. One slap had burst his nose and split his lip.
Lenia gazed down with utterly chilling eyes.
"Remember: you're alive here only because you're male. Get up. Now."
"Uh, uhh..."
Mumbling idiotically, he shakily pushed off the floor with trembling hands.
"Back to your room. Step one foot out without my say-so, and I'll shatter your legs."
"H-Hiiik...!"
"Out."
His face drained white; he frantically shook his head and fled through the side chamber door like a madman.
Lenia turned, face flushed crimson.
"...I never dreamed he'd be that stupid. Forgive me, Lady Ardella."
She bowed at a perfect right angle to Ardella.
"Enough. Just vet your decorative servants better next time."
"I'll check them personally from now on."
Ardella nodded, and Lenia's expression finally eased.
"The room's dirtied."
Lenia grimaced at the blood-soaked carpet.
"I'll move you to another side chamber briefly. I'll have it cleaned by dinner."
"No need. We'll share Smith's room for now."
As if the iciness had been a dream, Ardella smiled faintly at me. It was short-term, till dinner, so I nodded without hesitation.
Then someone knocked.
—We've brought clothes to change into.
Lenia answered for Ardella. The door opened; the maid who'd first guided Ardella entered, towing a rolling rack. High-end garments hung sorted by type.
Ardella eyed the maid.
"No help needed. I don't like others touching my body."
"Yes, ma'am."
The maid bowed and backed out slowly.
Lenia turned to Ardella.
"We'll send someone to Smith's room when dinner's ready."
"Do that."
Lenia bowed lightly and left. I started to excuse myself with a greeting to Ardella.
"Smith. Stay."
"...Pardon?"
"Help me change."
"Me?"
"Yes."
Ardella smiled faintly, patting the chair Lenia had vacated. Come sit beside me.
I sat next to her without protest.
Ardella eyed the rack thoughtfully.
"Smith."
"Yes, Lady Ardella."
"...Just us two now."
She narrowed her eyes slightly, glancing at me. I corrected myself fast.
"Got it, sis."
"Good. Even if something like today happens again, don't use your hands. You might hurt them—or turn a winning situation against you."
"I'll remember. But sis."
"Speak."
"Didn't it cross your mind I might be lying?"
"Hahaha."
Ardella laughed faintly—not just voice, but long and genuine.
"Smith."
"Yes."
"People in our position have sharp eyes for judging others. To protect gains or safety, we wage invisible power struggles constantly—it hones us that way. To us, a pure kid like you is just... adorable."
She chuckled softly again. I felt a bit embarrassed. Calling a 26-year-old like me "pure" and "cute" was bound to fluster.
Anyway, her point boiled down to: we can tell just by looking at your face.
"These'll do."
Ardella pulled a wide-collar white shirt and soft black cotton pants from the rack, laying them on the bed.
"Smith. Help me a bit."
She rose, calling me. I stood and approached. Looked like she wanted her armor off.
"Sis?"
"What?"
"You said you dislike others touching your body... You okay with this?"
"Smith. How's a sister and brother 'others'? Do you see your sis that way?"
Was it my imagination? Her brows seemed to droop slightly, weakly. I shook my head vigorously and reached for her armor. Different design, but I'd unlaced Kernax's greaves plenty—should be fine.
"You're skilled."
"Yeah, helped Kernax a few times."
"I see."
As Ardella nodded, I unfastened the gauntlets, arm, and shoulder joints, hanging them on the stand.
And regretted it.
"Smith?"
"Y-Yes...?"
"Something wrong?"
"W-Well, it's uncomfortable, yeah..."
Under her concerned gaze, I squeezed my eyes shut.
Reason: the moment the joints loosened, her flawlessly smooth, pale armpit hit my eyes—no stubble, just pure allure—followed by a sweetly cloying scent invading my nose.
My damn crotch sprang up instantly, no time for stray thoughts.
To hide it, I hunched over... a lot.
"Stomachache? Come here."
"No, it's not—sis? W-Wait...!"
Too close; before I could stop her, Ardella bent at the waist, peering right at my lower belly. Grabbing my wrist—the one covering my crotch—to pull me nearer.
My shielding hand offered zero resistance and got dragged aside.
Pop—!!
"Ngh...!?"
In a flash, I'd become the scumbag whose dick smacked his sister's nose.