Time of Proof
The book Lucia had been looking for was in the hands of a girl she had never seen before.
Lifting her gaze just slightly from the hands holding the book, she found herself looking at the face of a child about her own age.
Watching the unfamiliar girl turn the pages with her dainty little hands, Lucia found herself staring, completely entranced.
…She's adorable.
That was Lucia's first impression of the girl.
Silver hair catching the light with a soft reddish cast; blue eyes that commanded attention on such a small face; skin like flawless white jade, free of even the faintest blemish the way only a child's could be. All of it came together in a harmony that lent the girl an almost mystical air.
Living among servants of inhuman beauty, Lucia had assumed she would never again be moved to admiration by anyone's appearance. In a single moment, the girl's radiance overturned that conviction completely.
Perhaps she had been staring too long.
Sensing Lucia's gaze, the girl lifted her head and met her eyes.
"Is this your book, by any chance?"
"…Huh? Me?"
"Yeah. You kept looking at my hands, so I thought I'd ask."
The girl said it with a bright little smile—so warm and friendly that Lucia could only blink, unable to form a proper answer.
It's not really my book… or wait. Is it mine?
While Lucia hesitated, the girl gently closed the book and came over to her.
"I'm Siriel."
"Siriel?"
"Mm-hm. Siriel Prien."
The moment she heard the name, Lucia's eyes went wide. Siriel—she had heard that name over lunch today, if only in passing.
So this is that ahjussi's daughter?
Lucia stared at her frankly. This doll-like child was Hugo's daughter?
"You…"
You're really Hugo's biological daughter?
The words nearly slipped out. Lucia clapped a hand over her mouth in a hurry.
But it was a reasonable doubt. Siriel looked so utterly unlike Hugo that the only way it made sense was if she were adopted.
That man was… too large to quite feel human. His height, his hands—he gave off such overwhelming presence you half-wondered whether he could beat an ogre to death bare-handed.
Siriel, by contrast, was like a tiny fairy.
The silver hair with its otherworldly red sheen alone would have been enough. Add the airy frilled dress, and she was so precious you could almost believe she had stepped straight out of a picture book.
"What's your name?"
"Hm? Uh… Lucia…"
"What a pretty name!"
With that, Siriel seized Lucia's hand in both of hers. Didn't we just meet? Lucia was a little flustered by the sudden affection.
Whether Lucia was flustered or not, Siriel chattered on without missing a beat.
"So you're the girl Grandpa told me about!"
"Grandpa?"
"Yohan. Yohan. He mentioned you a little on the way here."
Yohan was the only one among the knights Hugo had brought who had actually spoken, so he lingered faintly in Lucia's memory.
"Once we got here, Grandpa told me there was a girl about my age. I was so happy."
"Hap…py?"
"Yeah."
Still holding Lucia's hand, Siriel bounced on her toes.
"I've always had to play by myself, you know."
Then, all at once, a lonely little smile touched her lips.
"Grandpa says our house is some kind of really important place, so guests almost never come. So all I ever get to do is play with the knights, and it's boring."
Siriel fretted her small mouth as she spilled her situation without reserve.
"And even that only happens sometimes, because they're always busy with training or missions."
"……"
"It'd be nice if I had a little brother or a big sister or a big brother. So when I heard there was a friend my age, you have no idea how excited I was."
"A friend…?"
"Yeah! I was so worked up I couldn't sleep at all last night, so I slept the whole way here."
Siriel said it with a little giggle.
She had finished introducing herself before Lucia could even get a question in.
Wow. What an energetic kid.
Lucia couldn't quite tell what was so entertaining about any of this, but looking at her, she felt her worn-out body and mind ease a little.
Not bad.
Almost without meaning to, the corner of Lucia's mouth lifted.
"Oh, right!"
Siriel let go of the hand she had been holding all this time and dashed back to the spot where she had been reading.
A moment later, she held out the fairy-tale book she had been reading right under Lucia's nose.
"Do you like this book too?"
"Uh… well…"
At Siriel's question, Lucia's whole body went rigid. Her eyes flew wide and she sucked in a sharp breath.
The reason was simple: the mere existence of that book was mortifying.
Powerful men hungry to carve their names deep into history had often commissioned songs and books praising themselves and forced them on the people. And every time, Kyle had laughed in their faces.
—I'm never going to let anyone make stories about us.
—You hate that kind of thing, Kyle?
—Of course I do. What even is that? It's garbage that doesn't even rise to the level of hypocrisy.
—You like being praised too, though.
—No. That's not the point. Someone who only likes the good parts of you will turn on you the second you show so much as a crack.
—Huh… I see…
She had said things like that, which made this all the worse.
If anyone who knew her past self saw her like this now, they would probably double over laughing.
Fortunately, as far as she knew, no one alive was aware that she was Kyle.
Well, still—the story is fun, isn't it? The illustrations are great, and the writing is a little over-the-top, but it's not like there's anything false in it…
Reading a book that sang her own praises turned out to be less unpleasant than she expected.
"Uh… yeah… I like it, I guess?"
So Lucia answered before she could stop herself.
She did hedge it a little, though.
Shiron was one thing. Her conscience prickled at the thought of outright deceiving a child who knew nothing.
"Really?!"
Siriel's big eyes sparkled as she hopped up and down.
"I love this book too!"
"…Would you tell me why, by any chance?"
Lucia cleared her throat and asked.
She had never heard anyone's impressions besides Shiron's. And the idea that there was a child who loved a book about her own story stirred her curiosity.
"Because when I grow up, I want to be just like Lady Kyle!"
Siriel answered with a beaming smile.
Just like… me…
Goosebumps prickled along Lucia's arms.
But a deeper feeling of pride welled up beneath them. After all that suffering with nothing to show for it, seeing a child who loved her so purely made the fruit of everything she had endured feel suddenly, vividly real—and her chest swelled with it.
"Ahem… I—I really love Lady Kyle too."
Lucia squeezed her eyes shut and fought to keep her mouth from splitting into a foolish grin. She couldn't quite stop the corners from trembling, though.
"I think we can be really good friends! We're the same age, and we like the same things."
"…Yeah. I think I like you too."
"Really? Then we're friends starting now, okay?"
Siriel grinned from ear to ear, as if nothing in the world could be better.
Becoming friends with a nine-year-old brat snagged on any number of things in Lucia's mind, but…
"Sure. Friends it is."
Being friends with a child who offered such unspoiled goodwill didn't seem half bad.
Knock, knock.
A knock sounded at the bedroom set deepest within Dawn Castle.
"Young Master. It's Yuma."
"Yeah, come in."
The door opened on Yuma and, guided in behind her, Berta.
"Good day, Teacher!"
"Right. Berta. This might take a bit, so sit wherever you like."
"Th-then…"
Berta answered in a state of high tension.
And for good reason: every servant in the estate was gathered in Shiron's room.
Roughly sixty-one eyes were fixed on Berta alone.
That wasn't all. The room was so thick with demonic energy that breathing itself was difficult.
Berta sat in a chair in the corner and circulated her internal energy. She didn't bother asking why the Young Master looked so perfectly at ease.
She didn't need an explanation; the answer more or less presented itself. In his hand was the Holy Sword he had secured not long ago.
"Well then."
Shiron flashed a grin at Berta, who was neatly turned out in her uniform, then turned his head and swept his gaze over the household staff.
"Anyone here want to volunteer to get stabbed by the Holy Sword?"
He tapped the Holy Sword lightly against his palm and waited for a volunteer to step forward.
Yuma raised her hand first.
"I will do it, Young Master."
"Not you, Yuma. It'll hurt you."
"…I see."
Yuma paused briefly at Shiron's correction, then accepted it at once and bowed her head.
"Anyone else besides Yuma? If not, we'll draw lots."
"I—I'll do it!"
The hand that went up belonged to Ophelia, eyes squeezed tightly shut. She opened them again and walked slowly over to where Shiron stood.
"Ophelia. I won't forget your sacrifice."
"P-please be gentle, Young Master."
"I'll make it hurt as little as I can."
Looking terrified, Ophelia held out one pale arm. Another maid came forward and set a gag between her teeth.
Ophelia's trembling forearm was painfully slender.
"Watch closely, Berta. You're witnessing a historic moment."
"…Yes."
Berta pulled a notebook from her coat. Shiron took a firm grip on the shaking arm.
"One, two!"
Three!
Sizzle—
The Holy Sword in Shiron's hand grazed lightly across Ophelia's arm. Even that simple kiss of steel on flesh sent up a nauseating stench.
Where the blade had passed, a single thin red line was drawn.
"Young Master. It is unquestionably genuine."
Yuma, who had been watching the whole process from beside them, spoke up.
"Good work."
"Th-that was more manageable than I expected. I think I was just too scared."
Spitting out the gag, Ophelia wiped the cold sweat from her brow with one hand.
"I told you I'd go easy. Don't you trust me?"
"Heh… hehe."
Shiron gave a wry smile and patted the weakly smiling Ophelia on the shoulder.
"That settles whether the Holy Sword is real or fake."
He sheathed it in a way the others wouldn't notice as he spoke.
"The succession ceremony is tomorrow. Promise me one thing."
He drew a breath, and the smile left his mouth.
"Even if I fail—none of you step in."