Don't Hole Up in Your Room Again—Train Hard!
“Don't hole up in your room again. Train hard.”
“Little Duchess...”
I slipped back a step to dodge the marquis, who was ugly-crying snot and tears everywhere.
After training together all this time, I'd revised my opinion of him a bit. From hopeless loser to loser with potential.
Maybe this would change the original story's future once again.
If he'd kept living like a total hikikomori, he'd have been the main culprit in dooming the North, just like in the original plot. But if he got his act together now and managed his territory even half as well as his ancestors, things wouldn't spiral to the worst-case scenario.
At the very least, he wouldn't abandon his lands and flee to grovel at the crown prince's feet.
I turned to Viscount Volta and the butler.
“You two—manage things properly from now on! You've learned your lesson this time, right?”
“We have no excuses.”
“My deepest apologies.”
“Back in my day, life was so tough I didn't have time to throw tantrums.”
“...?”
After unloading a torrent of nagging, it was finally time to depart.
“I've come to escort you.”
“Sir Agni.”
Agni, his face still as fierce as ever, bowed stiffly.
The Beliot Knights were currently combing the monster habitats to round up the remaining hunter stragglers. Agni had been leading that effort but arrived here just as I was about to head to the ducal residence.
“You really don't need reinforcements?”
“Hmph. I don't need help from those idiots.”
“Ah, okay.”
I nodded awkwardly. He still didn't get along with the other knight orders.
I glanced back at the marquis, who was still sniffling.
“Are you still crying?”
“But... hngh, sniff.”
“Ugh.”
I wiped his face roughly with my uniform sleeve. A handkerchief? I didn't carry that kind of thing. If he wanted one, he could bring his own.
I snorted and dropped my hand.
“Next time we meet, we'll spar again. Don't slack on training.”
“Hngh, yes.”
The marquis finally stopped hiccuping and spoke with determination.
“I promise.”
“Good.”
I grinned and waved as I went. Now it was really time to return to the ducal residence.
* * *
The time to part with Yurina and the children came far too quickly.
We'd decided to split up near the ducal territory. I'd taken the time to explain everything thoroughly to the kids, dividing them into two groups: those who needed to reunite with family, like the twins, and those who wanted to go with Yurina.
The children heading to the temple with Yurina would arrive safely under the protection of the holy knights.
“I'm sorry I can't take you to the ducal residence, Yurina.”
“No, it's fine. I need to hurry anyway.”
Even if it wasn't an official visit, having the South's saintess drop by Carpoem Ducal House first could be risky. She hadn't completed her pilgrimage to become an official saintess yet, but visiting us before the imperial family might still rub them the wrong way.
Sweet Yurina said it was okay, but it bothered me.
I couldn't put her in that kind of spot.
“You kids listen to Saintess Yurina, got it?”
“Yes!”
The children following her chirped back like sparrows.
I looked at each one, then turned.
“...Yurina?”
“Ah.”
While I was saying goodbye to the kids, Yurina had been staring off somewhere else.
What had caught her eye?
I followed her gaze. There, keeping their distance from the children, were Ian and Pel.
Had Yurina suddenly taken an interest in Pel? Or... no way... Ian?
“We'll head back now. Thank you so much again, Lady Abigail.”
“Come on, don't do that, Yurina.”
I stopped her from bowing seriously yet again. How long was she going to keep thanking me?
“I'll definitely repay this kindness.”
“You don't have to.”
As long as she didn't see me as a romantic rival later. As long as she didn't fall for the crown prince and stab me in the back.
The villainess Abigail was a threat to the heroine just by existing.
I gave a wry smile and saw Yurina off. Next time we met, it'd be six years from now, in the South—not here.
At the imperial ball where the original story truly began.
Sending her off left me feeling refreshed yet wistful.
“Let's go.”
As my group moved out, the empty spots stood out starkly.
Yurina aside, I'd even miss Illein, who always looked so tormented by his inferiority complex around me.
I chuckled and spurred my horse onward.
Then I noticed Ian, silently keeping pace beside me.
“Hm.”
That look in Yurina's eyes earlier—what was that about?
I snuck a glance at Ian. His face was still that impenetrable blank mask.
Ian was handsome, objectively speaking. Not just because he was my subordinate.
What if he ends up in Yurina's fish pond too?
Yeah, that had to be it.
Half-convinced, I sank into thought.
Ian hadn't even appeared in the original story. Abigail never awakened, so she never became heir.
But because I awakened, Ian entered the picture—and unexpectedly crossed paths with Yurina this time.
Maybe that's why she'd taken an interest?
A strange excitement bubbled up as I snuck peeks at him. Would even this stone-faced Ian melt like butter before the heroine?
He wasn't showing it in front of me yet, but it felt like the anticipation of reading a romance novel, my heart pounding.
Perfect timing. Just perfect.
Humming to myself, I urged my horse toward the ducal residence.
* * *
Back at the ducal residence after about a month away.
I spotted the obvious welcoming committee from afar and smirked.
How did they know exactly when I'd arrive to wait like that?
But I couldn't stop the grin spreading across my face as I kicked my horse's flanks hard.
“Hyah!”
“Neigh!”
The horse whinnied long and charged ahead.
The distance vanished in seconds. Past the long garden, straight to the crowd in the front courtyard.
“Miss!”
“Lady Abigail!”
The maids swarmed me the moment I dismounted, enveloping me in hugs.
I beamed at them.
“I'm home!”
They all opened their mouths at once, faces etched with worry.
“No injuries, right?”
“Oh no, look at our lady's skin...”
“It was cold up there—did you catch a cold?”
“Okay, I get it—one at a time!”
I couldn't make out a word with everyone talking over each other.
As I floundered, someone approached.
I called her name gladly.
“Annie!”
“...Miss.”
Seeing her smile, face slightly scrunched, filled my chest to bursting.
I rushed over and hugged her tight.
“I'm home, Annie.”
“I'm so glad you're safe.”
I heard a tiny sniffle.
I looked at her face and smiled.
“No crying yet.”
“...Pardon?”
I hugged her once more, then let go and turned.
As I'd ordered, Sir Agni had brought the twins right up upon arrival.
Annie's eyes widened at the sight of the children.
“Noah? ...Seri?”
“...!”
“...!”
It had been so long since they'd seen Annie that the twins froze in place, not approaching right away.
Then Noah, clutching Seri's hand tightly, called out in a trembling voice.
“...Sis?”
“Oh my god...”
“Annie-sis?”
Tears streamed from Annie's eyes. The twins burst into wails in unison.
I watched the tearful family reunion from behind, warmth swelling in my chest.
The other maids dabbed their eyes with handkerchiefs at the sight.
“Abby!”
“...Father?”
Oh my god. Even the duke had come out to greet me.
I was startled to see him approaching. Well, sure—it was my first mission as heir.
I kept recalling how he'd ruffled my hair with those big hands.
I tried to play it cool and looked at him.
“Father, why did you come out?”
“You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you.”
“...”
I bowed my head deeply.
“...I'm home, Father.”
“Good.”
The duke lightly pulled me into a shoulder hug.
I let out a small sigh in his embrace.
Now it finally felt real—I was home at the ducal residence.
I lifted my head.
“Let's go inside, Father. I have a lot to tell you.”
“Yes, let's.”
The duke nodded and ordered the luggage unpacked.
“Rest first, then come to my study.”
“Ah, yes.”
Come to think of it, I was exhausted from barely sleeping and riding nonstop.
I headed to my room with the maids.
* * *
“You met the saintess?”
“Yes.”
After washing up and sleeping soundly, I visited the duke's study in the late afternoon.
I'd reported via letters often, so he knew most things, but I'd held back on the saintess—too sensitive to put in writing.
This was my first verbal report on her.
The duke's face grew grave as I spoke.
“Lumine Temple's saintess...”
“Did I do something wrong?”
In the original story, Abigail and Yurina weren't on bad terms just because of romantic rivalry.
The South's Lumine Temple had deep ties to the imperial family, while we Carpoem Ducal House, symbols of the North, were at odds with them.
Yet I'd stepped in to save the saintess Yurina and built a friendship. And I'd even entrusted northern children to her care. The backlash wouldn't be pretty.
As I looked at him anxiously, the duke lowered the hand rubbing his mouth and spoke.
“No, it's fine.”
“Really?”
“Yes. You did well.”
“I... did well?”
Far from angry, the duke even grinned. I'd expected displeasure. What was he thinking?
As I stared, he burst out laughing.
“From the Magic Tower Master to the saintess. My daughter sure is popular.”
“Ha, haha.”
Sarcasm or genuine praise? I kept up the awkward smile.
“It's true. There's no downside to building ties with the saintess.”
“Is that so?”
He nodded at my question.
“You saved her life, so she'll feel great affection toward you. Who knows—maybe this changes our relations with the temple entirely.”
Sending the children counted as exchange too, so he saw it positively.
I didn't love the politics creeping into my time with Yurina, but there was no helping it.
At least the duke approved of my unilateral decision on the kids. And there was something more important.
“About the outpost I mentioned in my letter—what do you think, Father?”
“Hm...”
His face darkened rapidly at my words.
Seeing that made me desperate. I frantically recalled the script Xavier had prepared.
“Father, I can explain it all. In more detail than the letter. So...”
“Give it a try.”
“Yes...? Pardon?”
I thought I'd misheard.
But the duke didn't change his tune.
“Do it your way.”
“...”
He'd really approved? Just like that?
It felt absurdly simple, but given his attitude so far, I could see him indulging me.
“Thank you, Father!”
I clenched my fist tight.
Finally, a real shot at averting the original story's massive disaster.