A Guardian Who Cannot Protect
The mechanical wooden horse certainly moved faster than a maid on foot, but it didn't exactly tear through the halls with a breathless rush of wind like she had envisioned.
Clack-clop, clack-clop.
"Oh my goodness, my Lady. What an adorable little horse you have!"
"Are you out for a stroll, my Lady? Good morning to you."
It spared her feet from walking, and it was undeniably faster than an ordinary toddler's waddle, but still…
"Pardon me, my Lady. Would you mind if I slipped past you?"
"Huh? Oh, uh… s-sure, go ahead…"
A servant sprinting at full tilt easily left her in the dust.
Well, of course, Lefonya grumbled inwardly. As if the Duke would ever gift me something that went roaring through the estate at lightning speed.
Not from a man who handed her a yellow chick fork and cooed at her to chew every bite like a good girl.
She had been duped. Well, technically, the Duke had never promised anything about top speeds, so perhaps it wasn't an outright lie.
Moreover, the toy was so extravagantly adorned that everyone in the corridors spotted her from a mile away and politely cleared a path. Others approached from down the hall, beaming at her with broad, adoring grins as if she were the most precious thing they had ever laid eyes on.
Still, it's faster and far less tiring than walking on these stubby legs…
Besides, it was the very first present she had ever received in her entire life.
Lefonya diligently steered the little steed all across the sprawling estate. And by that afternoon, word had spread among the staff that the young lady's cuteness had somehow ascended to an entirely new, insurmountable level.
Having secured the Duke's permission, Lefonya doggedly trailed behind Pelens wherever he went.
"Senior! Be my escort."
"Kid, do you have any idea how hard I debated whether to run for my life or just stand here when I saw that wooden horse galloping toward me from fifty yards away?"
"Be my escort."
"Listen to me, squirt. The world doesn't just bend to your whims. Just because you want something doesn't mean people won't turn you down. And I'm turning you—"
"I know. I've been rejected plenty of times before. You're not the first person to say no to me."
If there was one thing she was thoroughly accustomed to, it was being pushed away.
Lefonya stated it with such calm indifference that Pelens, caught mid-sentence, suddenly looked almost guilty.
"I'm the one who needs you, so I'm the one who has to cling," she added matter-of-factly. "The person in need always has to beg. Isn't that how it works?"
"…Am I supposed to agree with that, or tell you you're completely wrong?"
"I'm right, aren't I?"
"Ha! Did Father not even hire you an etiquette tutor? Unbelievable. I might be planning to throw you out, but he claims he wants to keep you, doesn't he?"
"Maybe the Duke wants to throw me out, too."
"Ugh." Pelens pressed a palm against his forehead and let out an exasperated groan. "Listen carefully, kid."
"Okay."
"I don't protect people. So go ask someone else to be your escort. If you don't know who to pick, I'll even help you find someone decent."
"I don't want to."
"Well, I don't want to, either."
Pelens stood his ground. Delivering his refusal with resolute finality, he turned on his heel and strode away.
"M-My Lady! Are you all right?"
"Young Master Pelens has never let anyone get close to him. Please don't think it's just you, my Lady! He has always been that way, truly."
Watching anxiously from a distance, Birdie and Becky hurried over to soothe her.
"Mm, I'm fine. I'll just go ask him again later."
Lefonya offered them an unbothered, cheerful smile before kicking the pedals of her wooden horse back into motion. The maids watched her retreating figure with heavy, sympathetic hearts, but in truth, Lefonya genuinely didn't care.
In fact, this suited her perfectly.
Excellent. I'm buying plenty of time.
Chasing after Pelens had never been her primary objective in the first place.
Pretending to pursue him, pretending to scour every wing of the estate in search of him, was the perfect pretext to poke into every forgotten nook and cranny to see if she had overlooked anything.
Whenever Pelens happened to cross her path, she would casually bring up the escort request, get rejected cleanly, and be on her way. What was more, because Pelens was actively avoiding her, roaming the estate had become easier than ever.
"Where could it be?" she murmured under her breath. Where on earth was the heirloom hidden?
"Ha. Kid. How the hell did you track me down all the way out here?"
Instead of the heirloom she was desperately seeking, the wrong target kept turning up. Lefonya tilted her head back to gaze up into the canopy of a tall tree, where Pelens was currently sprawled along a thick branch, having retreated to the boughs just to escape her.
"Escort."
"…Denied."
Nod.
Lefonya gave a brisk nod, spun her little mount around, and leisurely trotted away.
Ideally, I want to find the heirloom and slip out before the Duke gets around to assigning me an official knight.
With no intention of lingering in this gilded cage for long, Lefonya busily scoured every corridor and courtyard she could reach.
Clack-clack, clack-clack…
Despite the grim resolve burning in her chest, the sight of a tiny girl trundling about on a decorated wooden horse only made her look infinitely more precious to anyone passing by.
The skirmish continued for several days.
"Be my escort."
"I told you no."
Whenever Pelens was lounging around…
"You're still not going to escort me, right?"
"Yep."
Whenever Pelens sat down for a meal…
"Senior, guard—"
"Get lost."
"Okay."
Even when Pelens was trying to take an afternoon nap.
She got thoroughly rejected at every turn, and she searched just as thoroughly in between. At the same time, she played the part of the dutiful young lady without a single lapse. Every morning, she greeted the Duke and shared breakfast with him. Suspecting the Duke might hasten her disownment if she appeared unrefined, she even made a show of diligently reading a full volume from the library every day despite her hectic schedule.
Yet for all her efforts, nothing bore fruit.
I've covered the entire estate. I've crawled through drain grates and ransacked the incinerator yard, and there's still no sign of it.
Today was an especially golden opportunity; the Duke of Craitan was away at the Imperial Palace attending a nobleman's succession ceremony, leaving her free to roam without supervision. And still, she had come up empty-handed.
Slumped over the handlebars of her wooden horse, Lefonya let out a deep, defeated sigh.
"Haaah…"
…Is the Craitan family heirloom really kept solely in the patriarch's custody?
Maybe I should just find a way to take down the eldest son and become the family heir myself? They say he spent his whole childhood buried in books…
…Yeah, right. As if. Even if Havelian had spent his youth studying, he was a prodigy who had manifested Aura at an absurdly young age. There was no universe in which Lefonya could overpower a monster like that. And even if she somehow pulled off a miracle and took out the heir, her odds of defeating the second son, Pelens, were functionally zero.
"Haaaaaah…"
Lefonya rested her chin in her hands and sighed from the depths of her soul. Her cheeks, round and plump from all the nutritious meals she had been fed lately, squished flat against her palms.
"Hey, squirt."
A long shadow fell over her head. Snapping out of her brooding reverie, Lefonya looked up.
"Senior?"
It was Pelens.
Ever since she started pestering him to be her escort, he had gone out of his way to dodge her like the plague. It had been quite a while since he had approached her of his own accord.
"Haah, you really are something else…"
Ruffling his messy hair in frustration, Pelens plopped down onto the stone rim of the courtyard fountain.
What's his problem now?
Lefonya stared at him in confusion. She hadn't even sought him out this time, yet here he was, seeking her out just to heave long, brooding sighs.
"…I had a little sister."
Staring off into the empty air, Pelens spoke in a quiet, subdued voice.
"Right now, no one even knows if she's alive or dead. Well… truth is, she's dead. It's just that nobody in this house has the guts to admit it."
Lefonya blinked. She had never expected Pelens to bring this up first.
Come to think of it…
Not a single soul in the Craitan ducal estate had ever spoken of this to her.
The lost youngest daughter.
The dead, "real" young lady of Craitan.
The family's most absolute, inviolable taboo.
When the Duke took her in, and even now, as he looked at her with warm eyes and declared she was his true family… neither the Duke nor any of the servants attending her had ever uttered a single word about what had happened in the past.
If Lefonya had been an actual five-year-old child—and not an adult who had consumed a magical draught to shrink her body while retaining all the secrets of the world—she would have lived her entire life completely in the dark.
They must think there's no reason to tell me.
It was deeply ironic.
The only person in this entire manor willing to tell her the truth was Pelens—the very brother who suspected her the most, and who was actively trying to kick her out.
"…I'm no good at protecting things."
Pelens lowered his gaze, his voice devoid of its usual sharpness.
"If I were someone who knew how to protect people, my mother wouldn't have died like that. And neither would my sister."
Lefonya hadn't imagined in her wildest dreams that he harbored such thoughts.
Come to think of it, he kept insisting that he hated protecting people…
Was that what he had meant all along?
"That's why I don't give a damn about graduating from the Academy," Pelens continued, crossing his arms over his chest. "I have no intention of taking up any duty after graduation anyway. And coming back to this mansion to look at Father's face is the last thing I want to do. My family isn't here anymore."
He turned his head, his dark eyes finally meeting hers. For once, the mockery was gone, replaced only by a heavy, unvarnished honesty.
"I'm not built to guard or rescue anyone. And if I fail at it again—"
He paused, his gaze boring into hers with piercing sincerity.
"The one who ends up bleeding will be you, squirt."