Playing with Fire
Whenever Titania had come to him on the verge of tears, the Emperor had always offered his genial, fatherly comfort.
“Titania, my little bird. Who in this realm does not know of that second young master’s wretched temper? You are a noble lady—surely you can bear it.”
A noble lady, my foot.
What he had really meant was: You’re an easy target, Titania, so just suck it up.
In short, among all the people the notoriously bratty Titania had crossed paths with, Lisianthus was the rare opponent she could never best—the one who invariably left her stomping her feet in sheer, helpless frustration.
Honestly, if the ducal house intended to fool everyone into believing Flamberge’s Rage was merely an extraordinary magic sword presented by Count Orland, having Count Orland’s eldest daughter, June, dance with Lisianthus would have painted a far more convincing picture. Even if only in name, Raymon already had a fiancée, whereas Lisianthus had none.
So why did Raymon have to take the floor instead?
Well...
Because Lisianthus’s reputation was so thoroughly, hopelessly in the gutter.
“Did you hear? Young Master Lisianthus set an entire banquet table on fire!”
“Good heavens, carrying a naked blade right into the ballroom...”
“Even the great ducal house cannot guarantee every son turns out well, it seems.”
“If you’ll pardon my saying so, the late Duchess’s own lineage was rather...”
“Still, when the young duke, Raymon, is so exceptional...”
His notoriety was bad enough that even Titania—an outcast among royalty who had never even been permitted a proper debut—heard endless gossip about Lisianthus at the Imperial Palace’s New Year’s banquet. It was bad enough that pairing him with a young lady making her debut would tank her social standing on the spot, making it entirely inappropriate to name him as a partner even when offering such a priceless blade.
Granted, Titania’s reputation was just as atrocious, known for throwing tantrums despite having neither power nor backing. But Titania at least knew when to grovel before those who outranked her. Besides, she was never invited to important gatherings in the first place.
That bastard Lisianthus, however, was brazen before the strong and merciless toward the weak. In a sense, one had to admire his consistency.
“I heard getting smacked in the head with this made you go crazy?”
Yes—consistent enough that his very first words to someone rumored to have returned from the dead were, “I heard you lost your mind.”
Having apparently caught wind of what I told Raymon, he had actually gone and scavenged a yew branch from beneath the second-floor balcony, waving it right in front of my face for good measure.
I had to muster every ounce of self-control not to shatter the teacup in my hands.
“Huh. Catches fire pretty easily.”
Channeling his power to ignite the branch in his fist, Lisianthus muttered in mild surprise.
“Cassian was frothing at the mouth so hard, I thought the imperial family was secretly growing a World Tree or something. It’s just an ordinary tree! Tch. Boring.”
...Listen here, you little delinquent.
Look. All I wanted was a capable guard. Someone who could slit the throat of an assassin sneaking into my bedchamber before they slit mine. Someone who could protect me if I slipped out of the palace walls.
When someone requests a maid and a knight under these circumstances, the purpose ought to be glaringly obvious, shouldn't it? I asked for a round-the-clock bodyguard and an errand runner, so why?
Why, Duke Castrein, did you send me an arsonist who plays with fire inside the imperial palace?
Is this your way of saying: You’ve thrown plenty of fits at my precious son, so now that our deal is struck, you’re on your own?
“……”
Staring at the flames flickering right before my nose, I took a slow, deliberate breath. Inhale, exhale. It’s fine. It’s fine. Consider his mental age. Just think of it as karmic retribution for my past life. I can endure th—
“What’s with that look? Not a fan? If you hate indoor fireworks so much, want me to turn this parlor into the great outdoors?”
...I can’t take this!
I shot up from my chair and dumped the contents of the teacup—the one I had been clutching as an exercise in ascetic patience—straight over the burning branch.
Splash!
Doused in fragrant tea, the flames sputtered out instantly.
Completely unbothered by the tea splashing onto his clothes, the mad dog of House Castrein blinked in bewilderment.
“...Huh? Why did it go out?”
“...When you pour water on a fire, it goes out. Naturally.”
“No, wait, you...”
“It is the most basic common sense, Young Master Lisianthus! My, what a marvelous sense of humor! Anyone watching would think the prestigious Castrein Ducal House doesn’t even teach rudimentary logic!”
Ha-ha, ho-ho-ho. Only my hollow laughter rang through the air, directed at my prospective brother-in-law.
Lisianthus looked between me and the extinguished branch with profound suspicion.
Then, watching me primly refill my empty cup with fresh tea, his eyes narrowed as if struck by a sudden realization.
“...I thought you were just pulling some new stunt to give my brother hell, but...”
Before he could spew more foul language, I cut him off cleanly.
“Young. Mas. Ter. Titania hasn’t fully recovered yet, so entertaining guests for too long is simply exhausting~!”
Whew. I let out an exaggerated sigh, making a show of dabbing at my bone-dry brow. Fluttering my eyelashes with a pathetic, “Oh dear, I’m so dizzy, so faint~,” I sank heavily back into the armchair.
At that, the cocky smirk on Lisianthus’s face faltered into genuine confusion.
Naturally. Until now, whenever Titania faced this guy, she would openly grind her teeth, stomp her feet, and throw a violent fit. She had never once pulled this kind of sickening, feigned innocence. Even without looking into his wavering red eyes, I could read his mind loud and clear:
What the hell? What is wrong with this crazy bitch now?
I’d love to bounce that exact phrase right back at you, you lunatic.
“Besides, playing with fire in the parlor... goodness, how frightening~! If an ember flew into the courtyard and burnt the gardens to the ground, I would be positively terrified. A fire in the historic imperial palace, of all places!”
My words were practically a prophecy.
When Titania threw a tantrum, it was harmless, pathetic whining born of sheer incompetence. But this guy? In the future, when he fought the imperial faction, he really would burn the palace down.
At this point in time, Lisianthus kept his awakening as a wielder of divine flame a secret. He played dumb, claiming, “Oh, this is just the power of an exceptional magic sword.”
But at the climax, when those lunatics laid a finger on their precious little sister, and his brother and father gave the word that he no longer needed to hold back, he went completely berserk across the palace grounds.
What was the progression again? As he awakened, the color of his flames shifted, along with their names. The weakest was red flame, the intermediate stage was white flame, and the final stage was blue flame. In particular, the blue flame—fueled by his concentrated divine power—could never be extinguished by natural means. Someone possessing a comparable level of power had to personally offset and snuff it out. Thanks to that, half the Imperial Palace ended up reduced to ash while everyone stood by, entirely helpless.
Adrian literally had to hold his coronation ceremony atop the charred ruins of the palace.
Well, that was all in the future.
“Did Duke Castrein send you here to see whether Princess Titania has truly lost her mind?”
Seeing no point in minding my manners when Raymon wasn't even here, I leaned all the way back, letting my posture turn entirely slack. Reaching out, I picked up a scone with my bare fingers and began nibbling on it.
Watching me toss out a question and then, before even waiting for an answer, gnaw on a rock-hard scone like a squirrel, Lisianthus wore an utterly dumbfounded expression.
“...What? What are you even doing? Using formal speech out of nowhere, and acting like some good-for-nothing delinquent...”
Tell me about it...
Instead of being trapped in The Baby Lady is the Little Treasure of the Villain Duke’s Family, wouldn't it be wonderful if I had transmigrated into a novel like I Woke Up as the World’s Ultimate SSS-Class Golden-Spoon Trash?!
You need a solid backer to play the trash effectively. If you're stuck as a pathetic minor side character like Titania, well...
I spat out a raisin from the scone and muttered, “Or did you come to test the imperial palace’s flammability? In your capacity as a future arsonist?”
“Why the hell would I burn down the palace?!”
Coming from the guy who literally just offered to turn the Rose Palace’s interior into the great outdoors. Lisianthus yelled defensively, but the faint twinge of guilt flitting across his face suggested that the thought of torching the place had indeed crossed his mind.
Watching me leisurely chew my scone like a sloth, Lisianthus grimaced. Tossing the charred branch aside, he reached into his coat and produced something.
A slim paper envelope.
“...Father sent this.”
I nearly reached for it with hands covered in pastry crumbs, then thought better of it, wiped my hands on the tablecloth, and took the envelope. Lisianthus’s gaze grew even weirder at the sight.
Caring little for his reaction, I tipped the envelope and emptied its contents right onto the table.
And froze on the spot.
“……”
A black card, delicately embossed in gold leaf with three serpents and a laurel wreath.
A small bronze badge engraved with two crossed swords over a shield.
And a thick silver ring, bearing no crest, yet heavily scuffed with tiny scratches from decades of continuous use.
To an untrained eye, they would seem like an assortment of completely unrelated trinkets.
And yet...
For a long time, I could do nothing but stare down at them in absolute silence.