A Melody's Warm Welcome
“Ibel will be delighted to hear that.”
Victor swept back his black hair as he dismounted from his horse.
The secret residence prioritized security, so it was built with excellent soundproofing. There was no way to know what Ibel was doing inside.
It's only been a short while since I last saw her, yet it feels like ages.
He paused at the entrance, hand on the doorknob.
A faint violin melody drifted from within.
Did I know she could play the violin?
It was unexpected.
But the violin's inherent melancholy melody and the delicate trembling of its strings suited her remarkably well.
“Oh my! Your Grace, we've been waiting for you!”
“Banya.”
“It's been a while, Colonel.”
Banya and Colonel Konrad von Eberstein were, of course, well acquainted—he was the son of a distant relative of hers.
Konrad, who had frequented family gatherings since childhood, treated Banya almost like his own mother.
She had helped raise him, after all.
“Come now, you two gentlemen, listen to the young miss's playing. Give her a round of applause too. I've never seen anyone who isn't a professional violinist play so masterfully—it's my first time!”
Banya, her apron strings tied tightly, hummed cheerfully as she headed to the kitchen. The two men made their way to the parlor to await dinner.
They were also intrigued by Ibel's performance.
“She's quite multifaceted.”
Before peeking into the half-open parlor door, Konrad grinned back at him. Victor lowered his voice in reply.
“If only she could play a pan flute alongside it. She'd love that.”
“Goodness, how could we overlay a pan flute on such magnificent playing?”
“She really would enjoy it.”
The Ibel he knew didn't express her emotions dramatically. But if you observed her closely over time, it became clear.
The way her eyes quivered faintly when she was pleased, the subtle twist of her lips when displeased.
She was more transparent than she seemed, and he liked that about her.
Her personality was so easy to read, yet others overlooked her innocence.
Perhaps it felt like he'd captured a piece of a haughty cat's heart.
“……”
Not wanting to interrupt her playing, he stood in the doorway and watched.
Sunset light filtered across her round face. Her long hair swayed with her quickening movements.
Unfortunately, they'd arrived midway through, so it was already nearing the end.
As she set down the instrument, Victor clapped and stepped inside.
“Chopin's Nocturne No. 2. A splendid performance.”
“Your Grace.”
“Allow me to introduce you. Colonel Konrad von Eberstein.”
Ibel's shoulders trembled ever so slightly.
Just a faint quiver, imperceptible unless you looked closely.
Then, with cautious steps, she approached and greeted him.
“…P-pleased to meet you. I'm Ibel.”
“Yes, a pleasure.”
Ibel curtsied and gazed steadily at the colonel. Just before he could look puzzled, she elegantly averted her eyes.
“Banya said dinner will take a while to prepare. If it's alright with you, may I play one more piece, humble as my skills are?”
“Not humble at all. I doubt there's another lady your age who isn't a violinist yet plays at that level.”
“Thank you for the praise.”
They say a person's true nature can't be hidden in performance.
Their personality infuses the melody.
Konrad, born into nobility, had heard countless recitals and received a refined education. His ear was well-trained.
So when this polite lady took up the strings again, he found himself captivated by her wit and originality.
No—utterly enchanted.
“Schubert's Military March! My wife and I love this one.”
He kept his voice low to avoid disturbing her, but Konrad's shoulders were already bouncing.
This cheerful piece was often played at festivals and was the first tune many soldiers taught their children.
Moreover, performing a military march in the presence of a soldier was the highest mark of respect.
“Your joy at meeting the colonel shines through.”
“Yes, I can feel it. She played it because I'm a soldier, right?”
Chuckling heartily, Konrad gazed at his prospective adopted daughter with eyes full of fondness.
He continued using formal address because, even as his adopted daughter, she would become the duchess.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried, but I trusted His Grace to arrange it well. My wife even shook off her melancholy at the news of a daughter.
But this woman… she far exceeded Konrad's expectations in every way.
How can she be so poised? Her posture is as straight as if she's been through military training.
It was like stepping backward into the truth, but no one was there to confirm it. It was just Konrad's private musing.
After savoring the brief performance with delight, Konrad entered dinner with a twitching smile.
Good. It went according to plan.
The atmosphere that followed was, naturally, warm and lively.
Making sociable conversation midway through, Ibel felt a touch of sentimentality seeing the living Konrad.
You loved the Military March best. You always played it on pan flute.
So she'd prepared it in just a month. She wanted to play it the moment he arrived.
Unaccustomed to flowery words, music was her way of expressing her feelings to the fullest…
He seemed to understand.
Konrad's wrinkled eyes crinkled nonstop, his mouth agape in delight.
In the end, putting the thoroughly drunk colonel to bed fell to Victor.
Afterward, Victor approached Ibel, who was cooling off in the garden, and spoke softly.
“Are you prepared?”
“More than enough.”
“Well, what couldn't you handle?”
“Exactly. I went to war pretending to be a man—what's this compared to that?”
Taking care of wild boys was nothing.
She'd give it a try, and if it proved too much, she'd ask the duke for help.
Ibel trusted that the Victor she knew would listen carefully and offer a solution.
What was there to fear in marrying a man worthy of that trust?
Her life was changing entirely, but she wasn't abandoning her dream of medicine, her partner wasn't some pot-bellied old man, and she wouldn't be stiffed on payment later. Everything was fine.
“By the way, about your favorite color and flower you mentioned earlier.”
“Ah, yes.”
“All true?”
Even in the darkness, his blue eyes were strikingly clear. Perhaps because their intensity surpassed that of ordinary people.
Lost in idle thoughts, she nodded.
“I love low-chroma, low-brightness navy blue the most. And orange jasmine.”
“Did you grow orange jasmine at home?”
“I had one tree. It was so beautiful, but one day it withered away.”
Her profile as she spoke was expressionless.
Watching her, Victor asked cautiously.
“Did someone kill it on purpose?”
“Abel. My brother.”
“I see.”
The topic ended there.
After exchanging a few more words, they retired to their rooms early to sleep.
Or at least, Ibel did.
Victor had agents he could deploy even in the dead of night, and whatever orders he gave… well, they'd find out in a couple of days.
The carriage ride to the Bayern residence was less awkward than expected.
The colonel, Banya, and aide Matthias were coming separately, so she rode alone with Victor in the spacious carriage—which was indeed luxurious, offering a smooth ride.
They were mostly silent, but when conversation arose, it often revisited shared memories from their regiment.
The differences between her wartime perspective and his made for good topics.
“That war will happen in the end, won't it?”
“I'll stop it.”
“Can you make the Franche king stop mocking our king?”