A Priceless Safeguard
Permission to go outside was granted far sooner than expected.
“Can I... really go outside?”
She had thought she would be cooped up indoors for at least a month, yet here she was, already allowed to leave the estate grounds. Though the deadline to report back to her handler had passed, it had only been a couple of days, so things should still be manageable. Unable to conceal her relief and delight, Lefonya broke into a radiant smile.
“Of course. I told you, none of this was your fault, Ponya.”
Duke Craitan nodded with a tender, rueful smile. Rising from his seat, he crossed the room toward the two of them. He scooped Lefonya up from under Pelens's arm—where she had still been casually dangling—and gently placed her onto the sofa.
“Truthfully, I am still uneasy. But that is my burden to bear, not yours.”
Gently smoothing Lefonya's hair, the Duke leaned down and draped a delicate chain around her neck. Suspended from it was a pendant bearing an exquisite jewel that matched the exact hue of her hair.
“So please, take this, Ponya.”
“What is this?”
Having studied every variety of gemstone under the Pope, she was familiar with virtually all commonly known precious stones, yet this was one she had never laid eyes on before. Curious, Lefonya reached up to toy with the jewel embedded in the pendant. Perhaps because its color mirrored her own hair, her fingers naturally lingered on its cool surface.
“It is a Return Stone.”
“......?”
Lefonya yanked her hands back as though she had been burned.
What did he just say?
“A re... what?”
I must have misheard, right? Lefonya blinked in sheer disbelief. The Duke merely chuckled at her bewildered face.
A knot of pure dread tightened in her chest. The sinking feeling that it hadn't been an auditory hallucination at all sent cold sweat down her spine.
“It is a Return Stone that will transport you instantly back here to the Craitan Duchy Estate—directly to my office.”
“Gaaah!”
She hadn't misheard. It was truly, undeniably a Return Stone. All at once, the delicate necklace felt heavier than a boulder around her neck.
A Mana Stone alone would be jaw-dropping, but a Return Stone?!
Lefonya's eyes quivered uncontrollably as she stared down at the glittering pendant.
“Whoa. That's a Return Stone? It's my first time seeing one in person, too. Just looks like an ordinary gem.”
Even Pelens, who thought nothing of swiping Mana Stones from the Imperial Academy, leaned in to inspect it with open wonder.
While Mana Stones carried astronomical price tags, the value of a Return Stone was utterly beyond the realm of gold or coin. Across the entire continent, fewer than ten had ever been unearthed in recorded history. To make matters worse, they were single-use artifacts, meaning less than seven were rumored to remain in existence today.
No matter where one stood or what catastrophic peril surrounded them, shattering the stone would instantly tear through space and deliver the user to its predetermined coordinates. Anyone in physical contact with the person who shattered the jewel could be swept along in the transfer, earning it the revered title of "the Gem of the Gods."
The rulers of every empire and kingdom had strained until their eyes bled trying to secure just one. Lefonya remembered vividly how the Pope himself had once plotted relentlessly to acquire one for his own vault.
And now...
That legendary treasure was hanging around her neck.
“If you get lost while you're out, or if you suddenly get frightened... or if anything at all happens, don't think twice. Just break it immediately. It will bring you straight back here to safety.”
You obtained one of the rarest relics in the world... just so I could break it over feeling a little scared?!
Lefonya's jaw remained unhinged, utterly unable to shut.
“It doesn't require any physical strength. If you simply form the intention to break it in your mind, it will shatter on its own, so there is no need to worry about that.”
Who on earth is worried about breaking it?! Lefonya desperately swallowed down the impulse to screech that the Duke had lost his mind, glancing down at the stone once more with trembling lips.
“I-it feels... way, way, way too much.”
Perhaps because the astronomical weight around her collarbone was crushing her windpipe, her voice came out as a fragile squeak.
“Ponya. How could anything be considered 'too much' if it prevents you from being in danger?”
You crazy man! That's exactly why it's too much! There has to be a limit to overprotectiveness!
Unable to scream at the Duke of Craitan, Lefonya whipped her head around and cast a desperate, pleading SOS toward Pelens.
Catching her desperate gaze, Pelens nodded with utter solemnity.
Good. Thank goodness, he understands.
Pelens opened his mouth.
“Father is completely right.”
...Right. Not a single trace of mutual understanding took place.
“Do you have any idea how many terrifying people are out there in the world?”
Apparently having completely erased from his memory the fact that Lefonya had survived out in the wilderness before being adopted, Pelens leaned forward to spook her like an overzealous older brother.
“You never know what might happen. Carrying a Return Stone is the bare minimum.”
Right. They really are father and son. You truly cannot deny bloodlines.
Realizing that finding an ally in this office was an exercise in futility, Lefonya abandoned all hopes of persuasion right then and there.
“Going out is permitted strictly on the condition that you keep this necklace on, Ponya.”
Judging by the Duke's implacable gaze, if she refused the Return Stone, he wouldn't let her set a toe outside the estate for a month—no, for three months. And this time, Pelens had clearly deserted her side to form a united front with his father.
“What about older brother? Shouldn't he have it instead of me?”
Summoning the last shred of her conscience, Lefonya probed again. She needed to verify one last time whether an adopted orphan could truly take possession of a continent-class treasure that even the Duke's trueborn second son didn't carry.
The Duke raised his brows and glanced at Pelens.
“Pelens. Have you been slacking off in your training? It seems Ponya views you as far more fragile than herself.”
“...Hey. Fluffball.”
Pelens reached out with his massive hands and hoisted Lefonya straight up into the air.
“Ha! Seriously? Did you already forget everything I told you? Huh? Even if every single knight in this estate rushed me at once, I'd still wipe the floor with them. Who is a five-year-old fluffball trying to worry about?”
Despite his scolding tone, Pelens grinned broadly, clearly thoroughly charmed by her concern.
“Worry about yourself, not me. Yourself! There are barely a handful of people across the entire Empire who could ever beat me in a fight. Got it?”
When they laid it on this thick, there was simply no way out. It wasn't something harmful, after all; it was an artifact intended purely to safeguard her life, and fighting tooth and nail to reject such protection would only look suspicious. In truth, Lefonya was deeply grateful to have something so absolute to watch her back.
I still have to go make my report, after all.
Looking back and forth between the Duke and Pelens, Lefonya finally bobbed her head.
“Otay.”
Her tiny voice quavered with reluctant surrender.
“I'll... keep it.”
Her acceptance was delivered with so little enthusiasm and so much pitiful reluctance that both the Duke and Pelens burst into warm laughter. Lefonya's small face, however, remained as grimly determined as a soldier marching to war.
Lefonya set out on her outing accompanied by Pelens, Sir Velic, Birdie, and Becky.
Pelens had initially argued that they needed to bring an entire retinue of servants along with Sir Canwell, but he had conceded after Lefonya dug her heels in with absolute, vehement refusal. She had hoped to slip out with the barest minimum of company, but the Duke had made it clear that Sir Velic, Birdie, and Becky were non-negotiable escorts, leaving her no choice but to bring them along.
First, I'll pretend to pack some old keepsakes from the cabin. Once everyone's guard drops, I'll slip away just long enough to leave my mark at the designated drop point.
This was Lefonya's very first time stepping beyond the Craitan estate since she had arrived. Instead of the grand carriage she had shared with the Duke on that first day, they boarded an entirely different coach. The seats were padded with exceptionally plush, cloud-soft cushions as though tailored specifically for a tiny child, and there was even an adjustable safety harness installed. To top it off, the carriage's interior was painted in a delightful palette of bright, cheerful colors.
Did they have this custom-made for the real young lady?
There was no way they could have commissioned a brand-new carriage just for her spur-of-the-moment outing, so it had to have been prepared beforehand.
“Ponya. I'm really curious about that cabin you used to live in.”
“It's just a run-down shack. It might look strange to you, older brother.”
“Strange? Why would it be strange when it's the place that kept you safe? How long did you stay there?”
“Um...”
In reality, Lefonya had spent nearly all her time confined to the Old Training Quarters provided by the Pope; she had only visited that secluded cabin on the rarest of occasions. Whenever the brutality of her training drove her into suffocating panic, or whenever she desperately needed a solitary hole to piece her shattered emotions back together—it was nothing more than a hidden refuge she fled to in moments of utter despair. But she could never tell him that.
“I didn't count the days, so I don't really know. I think I just stayed there for a long time.”
“Haha. It's fine.”
She had worried that such a vague answer might invite suspicion, but Pelens merely let out a fond chuckle. With an understanding expression, he reached over to gently ruffle her hair.
“...Huh?”
Why is he looking at me like that?
“I didn't really know how to count numbers when I was five, either.”
Lefonya stared at him, dumbfounded. He actually thought she hadn't counted the days because she didn't know basic arithmetic!
The sheer injustice of it made her cheeks puff up.
I learned arithmetic faster than anyone else in the compound!
Back then, every single mistake had earned a strike from the Pope's barbed scourge, so she had mastered sums until her knuckles bled! How could he think she didn't know numbers?!
“I can count really well.”
“Sure, sure. Of course you can.”
It wasn't as if she could pull out an advanced ledger to demonstrate multi-digit multiplication right here in the carriage. Lefonya settled for glaring at Pelens with a face full of indignant fury. While she puffed her cheeks in silent outrage, the carriage rolled to a steady halt in front of her old cabin.
“Huh?”
The moment they stepped out of the coach, bewildered murmurs erupted from Sir Velic, Birdie, Becky, and Pelens all at once.
“What in the world...?”
Staring at the remains of the cabin, Lefonya felt the ground drop out from beneath her feet, her eyes trembling with sudden, cold dread.