The Iron-Blooded Empress (5)
Waves of orange filled the girl's vision across the orchard.
Within white castle walls that, while not grand, held deep history in every stone, stood a large mansion. And beside it lay the orange orchard — a place no northerner failed to know — where a petite woman crouched low among the trees.
"Wow..."
The delicate girl breathed a soft gasp of wonder as she lifted an orange in both hands. This harvest had been especially fine, yielding many plump, oversized fruits. The one she held now was nearly the size of a grown man's fist.
Unlike typical noble young ladies who smiled over pretty flowers or costly jewels, the humble Viscountess beamed with an open, radiant grin at the simple act of gathering well-grown oranges.
Finding such deep joy in humble things was one of Darin's greatest virtues. She gazed at the king orange as if entranced. Even for a fruit, the faint floral fragrance it gave off was lovely.
"Heehee. I'll give this one to Piel."
A smile bloomed fully across the Viscountess's face. The true reason for that bright, unguarded happiness was not so much the successful harvest as the fact that her second child, Piel, had recently returned to her arms.
Our Piel is truly amazing.
Piel's talent belonged not to the realm of prodigies but of geniuses. Even at the Magic Tower, where elites gathered, she had claimed the top rank with overwhelming scores. She did not stop there — she graduated from the Magic Tower in a mere three years. Completing its curriculum typically required more than a decade. By that measure, her gift stood far beyond ordinary understanding.
The Viscount of Bayorn had once assessed his daughter, who became a magic swordsman at the mere age of sixteen, like this: that she had long since surpassed her own father and become a barbarian in her own right.
"Mom."
It was a voice she had always known, yet perhaps because the girl had only returned the other day, it felt faintly unfamiliar. Darin stirred from her reverie. Her real daughter had finally come home to House Bayorn — there was no need to linger in memories of Piel any longer.
"...Mom!"
Sharper than her own, and yet not so different. Darin could hear the gentleness hidden inside that clear, ringing voice. She must have finished training and carved out a moment to come see her mother.
When Darin lifted her head, a white-haired girl standing beyond the orange trees came into view.
It felt like only yesterday she had been a newborn not even half her mother's size, and now she had grown into a tall, elegant young lady. It was a figure that filled any parent with pride.
The Viscountess stared at Piel with a dazed expression. The mother had had every sense stolen by her daughter's lovely form.
It was not simply a matter of beauty. White hair sparkling with the sun at her back, rough plate armor catching and throwing the light — her daughter, grown into a Huscarl of Bayorn's elite corps, looked like a noble warrior maiden out of myth.
Sharp blue eyes set in flawless, smooth skin radiated a lofty dignity ordinary people could scarcely approach. Her bearing had matured since they last met, yet she was unmistakably one of the two angels who had always watched over her.
How on earth does she even lift those things?
The massive greatsword and halberd strapped across her back were crossed on the diagonal, but at full length they looked longer than the girl herself. Their thickness exceeded a woman's waist — even a sturdy man would struggle to raise them with both hands.
Yet her daughter Piel gripped those heavy weapons not with both hands together, but one in each, and wielded them freely like twin blades. The relentless barrage of fire strikes was enough that even the Viscount of Bayorn could not last five minutes before being knocked flat.
Heh heh. Serves him right.
The woman's cute little snicker was aimed at her husband. The man who had tormented her so thoroughly getting thoroughly thrashed by his own daughter was deeply satisfying.
Darin had lived with a quiet sense of deprivation at being born a powerless woman. She had told herself that being pinned helplessly beneath her husband was all because of it. Thus her daughter — Bayorn's secret weapon — was also a being who soothed those feelings. Vicarious satisfaction was a bonus.
The old lectures about how a woman should be womanly and a lady should be ladylike had dwindled considerably, too. Still, she hoped Piel would at least behave pleasantly when facing House Calisto, the Marquess family of their arranged marriage.
Of course, her daughter was so beautiful that the Marquess's heir had long since fallen head over heels. The problem that was not quite a problem was how he fretted and walked on eggshells because of the girl's fierce temperament...
She would simply have to hope that after having children of her own, like Darin had, her personality would naturally mellow.
"Mom, why aren't you answering!?"
"Ah!"
Darin had been lost in admiration of her child's magnificent form when her daughter's approaching voice finally reached her. She shook her head. She had even forgotten to breathe for a moment, drifting into happy thoughts of someday meeting her grandchildren.
The mother's eyes crinkled prettily as she offered an apologetic smile to her angry daughter.
"Sorry. I just love hearing my daughter call me Mom so much that I deliberately didn't answer."
"What? What's that supposed to mean?"
"When you have a daughter of your own, Piel, you'll understand a mother's heart."
At her mother's answer, the girl made a blank face. If you have a child, you'll understand a mother's heart...
She did not much like that idea.
"I don't particularly want to have kids..."
"Oh? Why not?"
"I'm scared of ending up with a daughter like me."
"Huh? Mom is so happy that Piel is her daughter, though?"
Piel let out a soft sigh. Hopeless. Her mother would embrace any terrible child with love anyway. She had been born with such a foolishly kind nature.
"Well, if I got a daughter like Mom, she'd be worth raising."
"I like Kael and Piel more than any child who takes after me."
"That's because Mom can't properly see herself."
"See myself? What does that mean?"
The daughter looked back at her questioning mother. What does that mean? It was about her — a woman who could not properly recognize how lovable she was.
When Piel had reunited with her mother a few days ago, she had not been able to hide her surprise. Three years was not a long time, yet it was more than enough for a woman in her thirties to gain a wrinkle or two. But strangely, her mother the Viscountess seemed even younger than she had three years before. Somehow, as time passed, rather than aging she only grew more beautiful.
Was her mother not human at all, but some kind of fairy? Piel entertained the idle thought.
Ah. She's truly adorable.
Even when she tried not to look, her gaze kept drifting to the red tongue that appeared every time her mother opened her mouth. Staring at it continuously, a thirst rose in her throat like a burning dry heat.
Just what did she want to do with her mother? Having met after so long, her mother's very existence felt stimulating.
Piel thought of the petite vermilion-haired girl in her childhood. She was this cute even now — what must she have been like as a child? Thinking that way, the desire to raise a child welled up of its own accord.
But there was no guarantee it would turn out that way.
"Anyway, I pass on a tomboy like me. Especially a bastard like that gloomy Kael — even more so."
"Piel, you're still treating your brother so carelessly? You're past that age, aren't you?"
"What does age have to do with it? Kael is still two-faced. If he'd just been normal, I would've treated him like a proper older brother."
"If he'd just been normal? From Mom's perspective, Kael seems like a perfect all-around handsome man in every way."
"No. From my perspective, Kael is a dogshit all-around bastard in every way."
"Haa..."
At the vulgar language unbefitting a noble, the Viscountess shook her head. But even if she scolded her, her daughter would not change her innate temperament. Even someone as stubborn about child-rearing as herself had to know when to give up.
However, the baseless criticism directed at her older brother Kael was hard to simply let pass. What had her brother done so wrong to deserve such cursing?
"Piel always treats her brother so negatively."
"Mom's the one with the rose-colored glasses on."
"It's not rose-colored glasses. Your mother isn't a fool. I know how to evaluate my children objectively."
"I can't agree with that much, at least. Mom even says I have a good personality."
"...Piel does have a good personality, doesn't she?"
"See? I should just stop talking."
"Then tell me. What's so wrong with your older brother."
There was an edge to Darin's tone. Even if it was her own daughter, constantly taking out frustrations on her older brother had made her angry. It would have been the same in reverse — though Kael would never badmouth his younger sister.
"Throwing a tantrum is fine, but your brother will be the head of Bayorn someday. You should show him basic respect."
From Darin's perspective, it was always the younger sister Piel who committed the discourtesies. Kael cherished and loved his younger sister dearly. No matter where he went, he never forgot to bring gifts for Piel. The expensive equipment she wore had also been specially commissioned by her older brother, who brought in master craftsmen for the work.
The material was none other than red dragon bone — a substance fire-magic mages went mad for, and one whose price was enormous. Kael had somehow procured it and had it forged into weapons for his sister.
So of course Darin felt disappointed in Piel. Her son held genuine affection for his younger sister.
He never once raised his voice.
He never provoked her temper.
Even when his sister suddenly picked a fight, he usually just laughed it off.
Considering the dignity of a young lord in noble society, even a younger sibling might have warranted getting angry once. But Kael never did. Thus, as Darin saw it, Kael was a good family member not only to his mother but to his sister Piel as well.
What's so wrong with your older brother? At that question, Piel clamped her mouth shut.
She could not even begin to figure out how to explain it.
How the hell am I supposed to say that?
Of course, Piel did not entirely dislike her older brother. She knew very well how dearly he cherished her. But the reason she barked at Kael and lost her temper was not because of that.
"Hmm? Piel, hurry up and tell me. Don't play dumb!"
Before her pressing mother, the daughter gave no answer at all, staring only at the distant mountains.
Should she invent something and brush it off again this time? Piel was wrestling with various thoughts when—
"Young miss, the Young Lord summons you!"
A servant's booming announcement settled over the orange orchard.