Chapter 202
Translator: Prime Works
Chapter: 202
Chapter Title: A Prison Called Lullaby (2)
“Lord Lloyd.”
“Yeah.”
“Lord Lloyd, you really are diligent.”
“Hm?”
Lloyd’s eyebrow twitched.
Haviel’s cold eyes grew even chillier.
“It’s not just diligence. You’re also incredibly earnest.”
“Hey.”
Lloyd tilted his head.
Why was Haviel acting like this?
He’d told him to just curse him out if he wanted.
This guy wasn’t the type to shower praise in a situation like this.
Had he eaten something bad without realizing it?
Meanwhile, ignoring Lloyd’s bewilderment, Haviel’s stream of compliments continued.
“On top of that, you’re meticulous. No gaps, always steadily preparing for the aftermath. And you rarely stray from the path you’ve chosen.”
“Hmm, yeah?”
“Yes. Watching you like that makes you feel so relatable. Especially when you’re covered in dirt during construction—what can I say, it feels less like an arrogant noble and more like someone familiar and approachable.”
“Familiar? Approachable?”
“Yes.”
“For example?”
“A mole.”
“……”
“It’s the way you diligently dig into the earth, earnestly bore through tunnels, and meticulously pack down the soil. Especially that pathetic, wretched backside twitching and grunting away while shoveling—it’s the spitting image of a mole. And that’s not all. The smell coming from behind is just like it too.”
“Hey, what’s wrong with my smell?”
“You must not realize it, but moles spray a foul-smelling brown liquid from their anus when threatened. Have you ever smelled it? It’s like a mix of dog shit and thoroughly rotted mud—uncannily similar to the stench from your filthy rear.”
“……Hey.”
“Why? Didn’t you say it was fine to curse you?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“So I did. Very refreshingly.”
“Why not just break my bones instead?”
Lloyd gave a wry smile.
Haviel added one more line with even pricklier eyes.
“For someone like you who’s done the most despicable thing under heaven, even this level of cursing is too good.”
“Well, if I say it couldn’t be helped, will you hate me more?”
“……”
“Tsk, don’t glare at me like that so openly.”
“Shall I try to think of even harsher curses?”
“No, spare me.”
Lloyd forced a laugh tinged with exaggeration.
Maybe Haviel actually understood his intentions to some extent.
Despite the prickly barrage of insults, his affinity hadn’t dropped even a single point.
‘Well, truth is, I didn’t do anything truly awful to Serazad.’
That was the fact.
He had indeed put an intentional shackle on Serazad’s growth with the lullaby.
He could admit that was a pretty underhanded method.
But if he thought about it differently?
He was her lifesaver.
‘Thanks to the qanat I built, that woman didn’t die. That’s something.’
Lloyd shrugged.
The grace he had bestowed upon Serazad.
It was a kind of grace that neither Haviel, Serazad herself, nor anyone else in this world could know.
‘Because I changed her future. I altered her fate of getting swept up in a rebellion and dying.’
But no one would know about that changed future.
Lloyd thought that wasn’t so bad.
‘Saving one person is enough, right?’
He didn’t need thanks.
He wasn’t asking for any.
They could call it even with the shackle he’d placed.
Just thinking that way lightened his heart.
Lloyd spoke.
“Anyway, that’s why I’m looking forward to that woman’s reaction.”
“Reaction?”
“She was hugely affected by my lullaby, right? So she’ll probably show one of two reactions.”
“One of two. Which ones?”
“Either she comes here, or she just stays in the Sultanate.”
“You’re saying she can’t forget your lullaby and will come all the way here?”
“Yeah. But since she hasn’t shown up yet, looks like she’s leaning toward the latter.”
“That would mean overcoming her difficulties on her own, then.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you disappointed?”
“Hmm, not really.”
Lloyd grinned.
It wouldn’t be a huge loss if Serazad didn’t come.
She’d struggle immensely trying to overcome Swordmaster Syndrome while addicted to the lullaby’s comfort. Thanks to that, it’d take her about ten extra years to reach Swordmaster realm.
That would delay the Sultanate’s strengthening by that much.
“So no real regrets. Though if she suddenly shows up one day, that’d be even better.”
“Lord Lloyd, you don’t mean…”
“Hm, caught on already? Smart guy. That’s exactly it. The day she comes will be the day the Engineering Corps gets new high-end construction equipment—no, manpower.”
“……”
“Figured it’d happen, so I prepared the employment contract in advance. Super meticulously.”
“……”
God.
Please save that poor woman.
Haviel was at a loss for words.
And deep down, he thought.
Serazad, who might fall into the same pitiful fate as him.
If she was anywhere near Frontera Territory.
He wanted to tell her to run away right now.
Amid that surging unease, Haviel slightly furrowed his picture-perfect brow.
Lloyd grinned at the silver-haired knight.
As they walked side by side.
Dusk was already falling.
And the next day, early in the morning.
The thing Haviel had worried about actually happened.
♣
“Beep-!”
Dawn broke in Frontera Territory.
Sunlight sparkled, pushing away the mist that had bloomed along the hills overnight.
In that humid air, the Frontera Count rolled his shoulders.
“Whew.”
It was tough.
Trying something he wasn’t used to was subtly exhausting.
But he couldn’t stop now that he’d started.
With that thought, the Count gripped the trowel firmly. He moved. Crunch. The soil split. A weed root was pulled out. Sweat beaded on the Count’s forehead and trickled down.
“Whewww.”
His legs hurt.
He wasn’t used to squatting like this.
Tending the flower bed felt so foreign.
His knees already ached, and his shoulders were stiffening.
But the Count endured steadfastly.
Thanks to remembering his promise to his wife.
‘You have a fever. Are you coming down with a cold? Please don’t push yourself tomorrow.’
It had been before bed the night before.
His wife’s expression hadn’t looked good.
At first, he thought something bad had happened.
Then a suspicion crossed his mind.
He touched her forehead.
It was hotter than usual.
A slight fever.
That’s why.
He had urged his wife.
Don’t let the cold get worse.
Please take it easy for a while.
She had looked troubled.
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Weeds have grown a lot in the flower bed. I need to pull them soon.’
‘But your health is more important than the flower bed, isn’t it?’
‘But…’
‘Then I’ll do it instead.’
‘What?’
‘It’ll be fine for a few days. I’ll handle the flower bed. Will that put your mind at ease?’
‘You…’
Tending the mansion’s flower bed was almost his wife’s only hobby.
She treasured it so much that she rarely let the maids or servants handle it.
Hearing his offer, the grateful look in her eyes.
The warmth of her hand in his.
‘Yes, I made a promise. So I can’t slack off just because it’s a bit hard.’
A promise to his wife, no less.
He had to keep it even if the sky split in two.
Even if his knees ached and shoulders knotted, he had to pull all these weeds.
The Frontera Count steeled himself and worked the trowel.
Crunch, crunch crunch. With somewhat clumsy shoveling, the weeds in the flower bed gradually disappeared.
Along with them, his stray thoughts vanished.
The aching knees.
The stiff shoulders.
He forgot them one by one.
Instead, a sense of fulfillment filled his chest.
‘Come to think of it, I’m truly happy.’
It really was so.
The funding issues that had plagued the territory were gone.
The influx of refugees had all settled.
Days free of worries.
And his two sons?
‘Lloyd.’
Thinking of his once-problematic eldest brought a smile automatically.
He’d said he’d make something called ondol.
And earn money with it.
So please promise support to let him command part of the guards.
The Count still couldn’t forget that earnest request.
‘The kid’s kept that promise to this day.’
In exchange for the support promise, he’d quit drinking.
At first, the Count hadn’t believed him.
The boy would wake up in the middle of the night for booze.
Yet he’d kept it.
Still keeping it to this day.
And that wasn’t all.
Seeing his eldest so earnest and reliable now, the Count felt proud enough to think maybe he was born into this world just to see this.
‘And Julien.’
The second son was the same.
He hadn’t caused as much trouble as the first.
Always steady and wise.
But he’d had a timid side.
The Count had worried inwardly.
How would he navigate the harsh world?
What would he do without inheriting the family?
He’d sigh secretly over those worries.
But not anymore.
He’d graduated at the top of the capital’s academy.
A straight path to upper management.
‘This father… is truly happy.’
That his two sons had grown so well.
Grown up healthy without any ailments.
Now with wings to soar the world without his protection or help.
He felt immensely proud and gratified.
Warm and happy.
With that, more strength went into the Count’s shoveling.
He smiled amid the early summer flower buds.
Then, suddenly, he heard an unexpected voice.
“Stop right there.”
“What brings you here?”
Voices from the main gate.
The mansion guards.
A visitor this early in the morning?
Who would come to the mansion at this hour?
The main gate wasn’t far from where the Count was in the flower bed.
Still squatting, the Count craned his neck up.
Unfortunately, the early summer roses blooming profusely along the fence blocked his view.
All he could glimpse was the backs of the two guards.
The visitor beyond the closed gate was hidden by the roses.
‘From the guards’ attitude, not a local.’
The territory wasn’t that big to begin with.
A few bridges away, and everyone knew each other.
The guards’ stiff demeanor meant the visitor was likely a refugee or outsider.
‘Well, the guards will handle it.’
The Count chuckled.
Dealing with unknown visitors wasn’t his job.
Especially now, of all times.
He was tending his wife’s precious flower bed.
Plus, he was just getting used to the squatting position—standing up awkwardly midway would make his legs hurt more.
So.
The Count kept working the trowel.
But he kept his ears open.
The unknown visitor and the guards stopping him.
Their conversation flowed in steadily.
“Is this the Frontera Count family mansion?”
The visitor’s question came.
The Count tilted his head.
The visitor seemed like a young woman.
Her pronunciation and accent were a bit unique.
No matter how he heard it, different from the local dialect.
As the Count pondered, the guard responded.
“This is the Frontera Count family mansion. State your origin, status, and purpose.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“From the east. The Sultanate.”
“The Sultanate… you say?”
“Yes.”
“Th-then, what is the purpose of your visit?”
“To meet Lloyd Frontera, the eldest son of this family.”
“You mean Young Master Lloyd?”
“Yes.”
A crisp, straightforward female voice.
The Frontera Count’s shoveling had stopped.
‘Lloyd? That woman? From the Sultanate?’
He tilted his head.
A woman from the Sultanate.
Coming to find Lloyd.
This didn’t seem ordinary.
Curiosity he couldn’t ignore anymore welled up.
‘What on earth brings her all the way here for our son?’
In the end, the Count set down the trowel.
He pressed his aching knees and stood.
His view rose. Opened.
Beyond the profusely blooming fence roses.
Finally, the visitor came into clear sight.
Fairly tall stature.
Exotic Sultanate traditional attire.
Even more exotic light brown skin.
A bold nose and fearless expression.
Eyes shining like black pearls, she spoke clearly to the guards.
“I am Serazad from the eastern Sultanate. My purpose is to meet Lloyd Frontera, the eldest son of this mansion.”
“Could you perhaps tell us why you wish to meet Young Master Lloyd?”
“Yes.”
The woman, Serazad, nodded.
The reason she’d come for Lloyd.
She drew a breath to reveal it.
The Frontera Count’s ears perked up.
Finally, Serazad declared confidently.
“Because I’ve become a woman who can’t fall asleep without that man.”