She Was Not Fit to Inherit the Ducal House
She was no material to succeed the Carpoem Ducal House. She was nothing but a headache, obsessed with luxury and makeup, quick to strike her servants. Isaac had always despised her. To think that his admired brother had only one child, and she turned out like this. His disappointment was beyond words.
Yet a dragon had chosen such a girl. How could that be? Isaac wanted to demand answers from the dragon itself, even if it was blasphemous. What on earth had it been thinking?
But Isaac didn't even have the chance to meet the dragon.
"And before her awakening, Abigail came to me first, asking to learn the sword."
"Abigail did?"
"Yes, she has considerable talent. She's already sparring with a senior knight as her instructor, not long after starting. The knights are full of praise for her."
Before he knew it, the duke had slipped into the mode of a doting father, boasting about Abigail. At first, Isaac had thought it was just a whim, something that wouldn't last. But it wasn't. Abigail swung her sword until her palms blistered, and now they were callused—hands that no longer looked like those of an ordinary noble lady. It was the result of grueling training.
The strong one becomes the head of the Carpoem family. That was their house's ironclad policy.
Now, with the dragon's power, Abigail would soon become the strongest in the Carpoem Ducal House.
"...I see. Her attitude did change back then."
Isaac recalled how Abigail had suddenly seemed quite mature. She had reverted to childish behavior the moment she saw Henry, but she was still young. If anything, she had become more composed than her age suggested.
The atmosphere in the Carpoem Ducal House had changed too. The servants' expressions were softer, their movements more relaxed. They no longer rushed about as if chased by something. It felt like the gentle air from when the duchess was alive.
"What if it's just a passing fancy? It could lead to something irreversible."
But Isaac couldn't trust Abigail. More precisely, he found it hard to trust the duke for so naively believing in her. No one had opposed Abigail as heir more vehemently than the duke himself. And yet, he'd even tried to ally with the imperial family he should have been wary of through marriage.
Isaac frowned.
"And Abigail is still engaged to the crown prince. The emperor won't stand by idly."
Isaac had advised the duke out of pure loyalty all this time. When the duchess died, he'd urged him to remarry and produce an heir. When Abigail pushed for the engagement to the crown prince, he'd opposed it. But the duke rarely heeded his advice. He'd acted as if he had no idea how things would turn out. Isaac had felt disappointment many times as the once-sharp duke's mind seemed to cloud over.
"Breaking off the engagement with the imperial family won't be easy. But I've made up my mind."
"Brother!"
Seeing Isaac still fretting over the house's well-being, the duke gave a wry smile. It was true that after losing his beloved wife, his judgment had faltered. But lately, the duke felt his body and mind returning to their old sharpness. The fog in his head had cleared.
"Isaac, can't you trust me just this once and help me?"
"......"
Faced with the duke's earnest plea, Isaac could no longer object. Come to think of it, the duke had never cared much for his opposition anyway. Isaac clenched his fist tightly.
"Understood."
He gave an affirmative answer, but his expression remained fierce. He wanted to believe in the duke. That's why he wanted to test the duke's chosen heir himself—to ensure he could believe.
"However, I want to confirm if Abigail is qualified."
"Confirm how?"
"I request the Tentamen from Lady Abigail."
The duke stared at Isaac, speechless. As kin, Isaac had the right to demand Tentamen from the heir. But the duke was reluctant.
"Abigail is still too young for Tentamen."
"But she's already awakened, hasn't she? She can handle it. Of course..."
Isaac met the duke's uneasy gaze head-on. This time, he wouldn't back down. By northern custom, not even the duke could arbitrarily refuse kin's request for Tentamen.
"If she has the courage for it as heir."
"Isaac......"
The duke ground his teeth softly. Tentamen was a kind of trial that kin could demand from the heir. Under the rule that the strong leads the house, kin rigorously tested the heir's strength. It was best if the heir steadily proved their power from childhood and earned recognition. But heirs who failed to gain approval—even after being chosen by the dragon—became targets of Tentamen.
The duke had been the former. No kin had ever doubted his strength. But Abigail was different. Not just Isaac—most kin would surely question her abilities.
"...Very well."
"Thank you, brother."
Isaac bowed his stern face. The duke let out a deep sigh at his sharply edged brother's expression.
* * *
"Tentamen?"
I widened my eyes at the duke's halting words.
"Yes, at Isaac's request, as kin."
Standing beside the duke, the Lupus Count glared at me sharply. The duke let out a short sigh and began explaining Tentamen.
"It's one of the north's ancient customs. A test where kin gauge the heir's prowess. The heir cannot refuse."
"And if I do?"
"You'd be stripped of your position as heir."
That wouldn't do. I smiled leisurely and asked,
"What kind of test is it?"
"Well..."
"I'll explain that."
The Lupus Count cut in, eyeing me. I'd noticed his hostile gaze when he entered the study, and now his tone bristled with thorns. He must dislike Abigail that much. I nodded in understanding.
"Yes, please do, Lupus Count."
If I had to face whatever test came, there was no avoiding it. With my permission, the Lupus Count held something out to me. I looked at it curiously.
"What is this?"
He offered a pendant embedded with a black gem. The jet-black stone was rare even in the north.
"Take this to the location I designate and retrieve an identical pendant. Magic on both will guide you."
I reached out and took the pendant. A sudden test was disorienting, but as a custom, I couldn't refuse. I sighed inwardly.
"Is the test within the ducal estate?"
"Yes, not far from here."
"Good."
I was uneasy about being far from the duke with Ater Marquis around. With the Magic Tower Master in the Carpoem Ducal House, things were quiet for now, but still.
"You may bring one escort. Who will it be?"
The worried duke asked. I'd assumed heir trials meant going alone, but an escort was allowed? I had no idea what the test entailed. Needing an escort suggested life-threatening danger.
I pondered briefly before speaking.
"I'll take Ian Servbo."
"Ian?"
The duke looked troubled. Ian was still a boy my age. He probably thought him unfit as an escort for the trial. I could read the duke's mind clearly.
"You can choose a stronger knight. The 1st Knight Order commander or a senior knight."
"No. That would make the test too easy, wouldn't it?"
I smiled brightly at the Lupus Count. He met my gaze with inscrutable eyes. He already knew from the duke that I'd awakened. I was quite looking forward to what test he'd set for me.
Besides, it was a perfect chance to lure out Ater Marquis. He'd probably try approaching me once. The trial would be ideal timing. I'd been mulling how to set the stage, and here the Lupus Count was serving it up on a platter. I was grateful for his consideration.
"I'll be looking forward to it, Lupus Count."
"As am I, my lady."
We gazed at each other silently, both smiling faintly.
* * *
Ian Servbo knelt motionless in his room. Not long ago, he'd angered his master. As punishment, he was confined, forbidden from approaching her. Abigail hadn't ordered him to kneel, but Ian couldn't bear it otherwise—he was punishing himself.
From a very young age, his fate had been set. To protect the Carpoem heir who inherited the dragon's power. That was his sole reason for living.
The Servbo clan served only the Dragon God. Any other thought was insolence, heresy. Ian had never doubted his faith for a moment.
Thus, who the Carpoem heir turned out to be mattered little to him. He was merely a limb, a shadow, a doll that followed obediently.
But Ian could never forget his first glimpse of the Carpoem lady who became his master. He'd lived in restraint all his life, yet facing her, he couldn't stop his body from trembling. His rigorous training hid it well, but he was undeniably shaken. It was ecstasy—a feeling utterly foreign to Ian, who had suppressed all emotion.
Emotions he'd never felt even for his own blood kin surged forth upon seeing her. Trained to endure a full day without food or sleep, Ian still felt something welling up uncontrollably in her presence.
So even knowing Lupus Young Master was her cousin, he couldn't stop himself from lunging. Without her permission, he had to swat that hand away. It was irreverent.
Ian mulled over his sin, locking himself in his room without even a sip of water.
...Uncle Cardian.
Suddenly, he thought of his late uncle. Cardian Servbo. The high priest's brother and Ian's uncle. Also, the previous guardian who protected the duke.
The last time Ian saw his uncle was over a decade ago, just before his death, when Ian briefly visited the temple. The duke and his knights had stopped there for blessings before battling monsters, and his uncle had been at the duke's side.
He'd spoken proudly: as a servant of the dragon, protecting the duke was his life's purpose; he could even give his life for it.
And he had. He'd died shielding the duke in that battle.
The high priest—his father—called it the most glorious death for a guardian. And it was Ian's future too.
Ian never doubted his end would mirror his uncle's.
"......?"
Lost in thought, Ian belatedly sensed someone approaching his room. Few ever visited. Only the occasional maid bringing food. The servants shunned the newly arrived Ian. His position—neither noble nor common—unsettled them. So he stayed ever vigilant.
Tensing belatedly, he glared at the door. Slowly, it began to open.