Playing with Fire
Lefonya quietly caught her breath at his sudden words.
Don't tell me he figured out why I've been wandering around?
The Duke of Craitan looked down at her slender legs, which seemed fragile enough to snap at the slightest knock. "I'm worried those legs of yours will actually snap in half one of these days if you keep running all over the estate."
"Huh?"
Human bones did not break from mere walking. There was no way a man like him didn't know that, so what on earth was he talking about?
"I intend to summon a craftsman soon to build a wooden hobbyhorse for you to ride around the mansion," he continued. "Once it's finished, you can ride that instead."
Lefonya narrowed her eyes, studying his face. That sounded like a flimsy excuse; perhaps he had sensed something suspicious and was trying to restrict her movements.
Too late for that, though.
Thanks to her diligent roaming over the past few days, she had already memorized every corner of the main building.
"Okay," she agreed readily.
Seeing that she didn't throw a single tantrum, the Duke gently patted her back. "Daughters are complicated."
Contrary to his grumbling words, the rhythm of his hand was remarkably practiced, as if handling children was second nature to him. Was it because he had raised two sons with his own hands? That massive palm, which looked as though a single blow from it could shatter stone, felt surprisingly comforting when patting her back.
Grumble.
The moment the tension left her body, a thunderous cry rang out from within.
Both the Duke and Lefonya froze, their gazes dropping to the exact same spot.
Grumbleee.
Traitorous stomach!
Her stomach, perfectly quiet until now, bellowed furiously as if it could endure starvation no longer.
"Quite a roar," the Duke remarked, a brilliant, delighted smile breaking across his features.
"It's just... I came straight to see you, Duke, so I haven't eaten anything yet."
"Then it is entirely my fault."
Despite her sheepish excuse, the Duke admitted his mistake without the slightest hesitation. For an aristocrat of immense pride and noble blood to concede fault so easily left Lefonya stunned.
The Duke turned, carrying her out of the grand conference hall toward the dining room. Lefonya naturally wrapped her tiny arms around his neck. Having been carried everywhere lately, she had grown thoroughly accustomed to the perch.
"Ponya. Isn't there anything you want to ask?"
"Huh?"
"Even now, you haven't asked where we are going. And when I told you not to wander about until the wooden horse is built, you didn't ask why, either."
"......"
"Ponya. I don't think I've ever heard you ask 'why.'"
To Lefonya, that sounded like praise. It meant she wasn't being troublesome, wasn't pestering him, and wasn't throwing stubborn fits that demanded explanations.
"I'll keep working hard in the future," she murmured softly.
The Duke muttered another quiet "Daughters really are difficult" as he pushed open the dining room doors.
"Bring out the meat."
Even if it was technically a late morning meal, demanding a heavy meat course for a small child's first bite of the day seemed absurd, yet the Duke carefully lowered Lefonya into a chair with utmost gentleness.
Neither of them spoke while the servants laid out the lavish spread. After pondering for a long while, the Duke was the first to break the silence, his tone rather awkward.
"Come to think of it, you changed your hairpin today. It suits you. It looks pretty."
Lefonya's fingers drifted up to touch the hairpin—the first accessory she had ever worn in her life. He was merely complimenting the pin itself, yet her cheeks flared with an inexplicable warmth. A fine, pretty thing like this couldn't possibly suit someone like her, and yet...
"Duke... I heard you already had breakfast."
"Eating alone is lonely."
Lefonya tilted her head, giving him a bewildered look.
"Ah. I meant me, not you, Ponya."
Clarifying himself, the Duke ordered the servants to prepare a portion for him as well. Unless he had eaten at the crack of dawn, it had barely been an hour or two since his breakfast, yet he was ordering another meal?
"Listening to so much nonsense since early morning must have made me hungry."
Is he doing this just to keep me company while I eat?
Lefonya lightly touched her fork, which was decorated with an illustration of a chirping chick. Once the feast was set before them, the Duke began to eat with immaculate, practiced grace. Lefonya followed suit, lifting her utensils.
"Ponya. Is it good?"
"Yes. It's delicious."
"I shall have to reward the head chef. Have him report to my office during the afternoon break."
"Right away, Your Grace," the butler answered.
Watching the Duke eat steadily without pause, she figured he truly had been hungry after all.
Eating just for my sake? No way that's true.
Her expression smoothed out, and she enjoyed the meal in comfort. Whatever his motives, she completely agreed that the chef deserved a reward.
It would be wonderful if I could eat like this forever.
Of course, that would never happen. Once she slipped out of this estate, she would never enjoy such delicacies or this level of comfort again.
I'd better enjoy as much of it as I can right now.
Only after Lefonya buried herself in her meal did the Duke's fork finally slow to a stop. Stepping forward with impeccable discretion, the butler quietly handed his master a cup of digestive tea.
A week had passed since the vassals descended upon the mansion.
During that time, they had been extraordinarily busy.
"Do you have any idea how magnificent House Craitan is? It is the most prestigious family in the Empire, second only to the Imperial Family itself! For a mere child like you—"
"Wow. I got adopted into such an amazing family? Thank you for telling me. But if what you're saying is true, then I'm the daughter of the second-highest family in the entire Empire... so are you really allowed to address me so disrespectfully?"
First, they tried intimidating her with the grandeur of the house to shatter her confidence.
"Your Grace, my ring is missing! It's a priceless keepsake given to me by my wife! Earlier, the young lady was looking at it with such covetous eyes, could it be—!"
"Is this the ring you lost?"
"My ring! Ha, so the young lady did steal it after all! Your Grace, this is an outright crime! For a theft to occur under the roof of the Empire's Guardian House! We cannot simply let this pass—"
"The Duke and I both watched you sneak into my bedroom earlier to hide it there."
Next, they framed her for theft to ruin her reputation.
"Your Grace, there is something deeply suspicious about the young lady. In my opinion, she might very well be a spy planted here to bring ruin upon our house..."
"What's a spy?"
They tried driving a wedge between her and the Duke.
"Young Lady, we will give you as much gold as you desire. In exchange, please leave this family at once..."
"Duke. They said they'll give me money if I leave the family. How much should I ask for?"
They even tried bribing her directly with a pile of coin.
And every single attempt failed spectacularly.
"She is no ordinary child."
Late at night, the vassals gathered in secret within the shadows of the estate.
"She never leaves the Duke's side from morning to night. There isn't even an opening to sow discord between them."
"We should have known the moment she barged into the grand council hall. It seems she fully intends to take root here."
"She is an insidious creature. A nameless brat who doesn't know her place, completely blinded by greed."
They had assumed that dealing with a five-year-old would hardly require an elaborate scheme. It had been pure arrogance on their part.
"Now is not the time to treat her with kid gloves just because she is five. If that little wretch is this ambitious now, what will become of her when she grows older?"
The vassals exchanged covert glances. The dim light in their eyes curdled into thick, venomous malice.
"Let us hire mercenaries. Abduct the child and slaughter her."
"I agree."
"We must choose someone thoroughly capable. Someone who leaves no loose ends."
No matter how clever a five-year-old might be, she could never prevail against a seasoned mercenary. Driven into a corner, the vassals drew their final card.
"I feel a shred of pity for the child, but as men bound by loyalty to House Craitan, our duty is to protect the family name."
"Of course. Everything we do is for the sake of House Craitan."
"It is her own fault for harboring ambitions far beyond her station. We gave her ample warning."
Their consensus solidified. Unanimously, they agreed to murder a five-year-old child.
After a few more hushed whispers regarding the procurement of an assassin, the conspirators quietly slipped away in different directions.
Once every trace of their presence faded into the dark, only the mournful cry of a night bird echoed through the courtyard.
Lefonya, who had been completely suppressing her presence behind a stone pillar, stepped into the moonlight.
"Disgusting scum."
Earlier, after the Duke had tucked her into bed and departed, she noticed the vassals gathering suspiciously and had quietly shadowed them.
Haa.
She knew they would scramble to devise a new plot after all their failures, but she hadn't expected them to leap straight to murdering a five-year-old.
"Children really have it rough no matter where they go, don't they?"
Crossing her short arms, Lefonya gazed indifferently up at the moonlit sky.
If they had just left me alone, I would have found the heirloom and vanished on my own.
A capable mercenary who left no loose ends? Lefonya recalled their words with a cold, mocking sneer.
"You're describing me."
Among the countless orphans raised and trained in secrecy by the Pope, she had reigned as his first 'daughter'—the unmatched honor student of slaughter.
As she walked back toward the main building, she glanced upward. Perhaps weighed down by an endless mountain of paperwork, the window of the Duke's office remained brightly illuminated.
He spends the entire day keeping me company while trying to work, so nighttime is the only time he has left.
Because the vassals' sudden intrusion had thrown the entire household into chaos, Lefonya had not yet been assigned a personal escort knight. The Duke seemed acutely aware of this, as she had noticed him scrutinizing his knights very closely over the past few days.
The vassals definitely know that, too.
That was why they intended to strike before an escort was officially placed by her side.
Lefonya hummed a jaunty little tune as she walked back to her quarters.
"Hm-hm-hmm."
Of course, having never listened to proper music in her life, her humming was an utter, off-key disaster.
When she slipped back into her bedroom, comforting warmth enveloped her small frame. Following the Duke's strict decree that a child must never be left in the cold, the fire in her hearth had never once been allowed to die. The maids made rounds every hour to check the embers and air out the room, meaning someone would arrive shortly.
Lefonya climbed into bed and pulled the thick duvet over her head.
Steadying her breathing, she feigned deep sleep just as a maid slipped quietly through the door on schedule. The maid inspected the hearth, refreshed the air, and checked to ensure Lefonya was resting peacefully. Satisfied, she latched the window securely and took her leave.
The moment the door clicked shut, Lefonya smoothly pushed herself up. She padded toward the private dressing room adjoining the bedchamber, a space primarily used for changing attire.
Humming her broken tune, she retrieved a bottle of high-proof alcohol fragrance she had scouted earlier. She took a small sniff. It smelled wonderfully sweet.
She unlatched the bedroom window, inviting a gentle draft inside.
"To the true master of this bedroom, I apologize."
Offering a casual apology to the missing 'true daughter of Craitan,' Lefonya kept her distance and hurled the bottle directly into the hearth.
Crash!
Glass shattered with a sharp crack, and a violent column of fire erupted into the air. Stoked by the incoming breeze, the roaring flames danced wildly before leaping onto the nearby wall hangings.
Whoosh!
Having consumed the golden tapestries, the embers devoured the heavy velvet drapes and spread with terrifying speed across the plush carpet, the polished wooden chairs, and the settee.
The Pope had taught her well: whenever she needed to incinerate an estate to destroy evidence, she was always to use the oil lamps or alcohol-based fragrances already present within the mansion. By using the household's own supplies, no investigator would ever be able to trace the arson to an outside hand.
This should be enough.
The carpet near the entrance blazed fiercely, cutting off the main exit in a matter of seconds.
With all preparations complete, Lefonya calmly walked back to the bed nestled deep within the room.
I wonder how long it will take him.
She lay down in the exact same posture the maid had seen moments ago, resting peacefully amidst the raging inferno.
"Duke."
The corners of her lips curled into a subtle, knowing smile as her eyelashes fluttered shut, mimicking slumber.
"You'd better notice quickly. If you're late, I'll die."