Let's Forgive Each Other
Lefonya blinked in surprise and glanced around the hall. Come to think of it, Rudeum was nowhere to be seen.
Did he leave?
She had been waiting for the right moment to slip away and speak with him in private. But as she scanned the crowd, a chilling voice drifted down from right above her head.
"That thing... is the very creature that blocked my path back then."
Pelens was glaring toward the terrace, his eyes narrowed into a fierce scowl. More precisely, he was staring at the ethereal silhouette of the silver wolf hovering just beyond the balustrade.
Gasps!
Could that thing really be seen by others? If someone identified what it was, wouldn't they realize someone had been trespassing in the ducal estate as well? Could she really just let this happen?
"B-Brother? What are you looking at? Look at me for a second, please? Look over here. Look at me!"
"Fluffball."
Despite Lefonya's desperate, heart-wrenching pleas, Pelens's gaze remained pinned to the terrace.
"Can you stay here and play by yourself for just a moment? You remember the kids your age who came to greet you earlier, right? They're all over there, so go join them for a bit. Father will be here shortly, so just stay put until then, all right?"
Pelens rose from his seat, a shimmering shroud of Aura flaring to life around his fists.
"Wait, brother! Brother! This is a ballroom! You can't just smash everything to pieces!"
"Sure I can. That filthy pest had the nerve to show its face in front of me again."
Again? What does he mean, again? Has Pelens seen that silver wolf before? But now was hardly the time to worry about that.
"Ruining someone else's party will cause a massive scandal!"
"Haha. Don't worry. I've wrecked plenty of places before. It's never as big of a deal as people make it out to be."
Is this madman actually bragging about that right now?!
"Besides, that wretched thing keeps fluttering around you, Fluffball, and it's putting me in a foul mood."
This was bad. Pelens's eyes had gone completely feral. He seemed thoroughly convinced that the spectral beast posed a mortal threat to her. Sensing the sudden surge of violence, the surrounding nobles began quietly retreating, maintaining a practiced, respectful distance. It seemed the infamous troublemaker of House Craitan was every bit the monster rumors claimed.
"I'll drag that creature down and find out who summoned it—or tear it to shreds. Haha."
"Wait, brother, no! You can't break anything! Today is my very first official debut!"
Lefonya blurted out the first excuse that crossed her mind, but miraculously, it struck a chord. Pelens, who had been poised to launch himself at the terrace, froze mid-stride.
"So... why don't we sit down and talk this through—"
"Fine, then I'll capture it or slaughter it without breaking a single thing. Happy now?"
"That's not what I—!"
Before she could finish her protest, Pelens darted toward the terrace. The silver wolf, which had been pacing languidly outside, immediately took to the air, widening the distance between them.
"Ha! Where do you think you're running off to? Who's your master, huh? Who the hell do they think they are, sending a creepy beast to keep leering at my little sister?!"
Aura surged down Pelens's legs as he vaulted into the open sky, matching the airborne wolf's trajectory in an instant.
Last time he used it to enhance his speed, and now he's leaping through the air... Aura really can do almost anything depending on how you wield it.
As she watched Pelens disappear into the night, Lefonya made a firm mental note: Never, under any circumstances, pick a direct fight with an Aura Master.
Tap, tap.
A gentle touch tapped against her shoulder.
Lefonya spun around.
"Huh?"
"Come with me."
It was Rudeum. The moment their eyes met, he took her hand and pulled her along. Lefonya offered no resistance, allowing him to lead the way.
Guiding her into an empty waiting room not far from the main hall, Rudeum glanced around the corridor before quietly shutting the door behind them.
"Is it really okay for you to be hiding here like this? That wolf my brother's fighting—isn't it yours?"
"Mine? Ah. I did summon it to lure away the second young master of Craitan, but it's not a pet. It's a spirit."
A spirit? That thing was an elemental spirit?
No wonder it seemed translucent as mist and could fly through thin air. She had read about such entities before, but with so few Spirit Contractors remaining in the Empire, she had never received proper instruction on the subject.
"My brother said he was going to kill it, though. Will it be all right?"
"I instructed it to dispel its physical form after playing around with him for a bit, so it'll be fine. If things get truly dangerous, it will simply return to the spirit realm."
"Oh... Well, that's a relief, then."
"More importantly, now that you know who I am, is the safety of my spirit really all you care about?"
"Excuse me?"
Lefonya turned to face him fully. Only now did it register that she was alone in a room with him.
"That's right!" Lefonya shouted, suddenly remembering the mountain of questions she had been harboring. Rudeum barely suppressed a chuckle. There was so much to say that she hardly knew where to begin. "You... You're the Duke of Villemon?!"
"I introduced myself quite formally earlier, didn't I?" Rudeum gave a slight, teasing nod.
So the mysterious boy who had slipped into her room and the newly instated Duke of Villemon were truly the exact same person? Thinking back, it made sense why she had never run into him during her desperate searches through the Craitan estate. She had assumed she was just unlucky.
Wait... If he's the Duke of Villemon, does that mean he wasn't the boy who originally reported finding me in that abandoned shack?
If the informant had been Rudeum, Sir Velic would have recognized him immediately. Sir Velic had remembered the boy's appearance, but had no idea who he was.
Yet when I asked him before, he never denied it!
Lefonya furrowed her brows, raising her guard as she glared at him. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"You never asked who I was."
"Are you playing games with me right now?"
Seeing her pout with genuine indignation, Rudeum smothered another laugh. "I intended to tell you once I formally succeeded the ducal seat. That's why I told you to come see me. I even wrote my name on the invitation and sent it to you before anyone else so you'd recognize it. Imagine my disappointment when you pretended not to know me at all."
"What? Disappointed? Why would you be disappointed?! You never told me you were the Duke of Villemon in the first place!" Flustered, her words stumbled out in an indignant rush.
"Even so, I specifically asked you to come visit. I thought you would recognize the hint."
"How on earth was I supposed to know that?"
"I assumed you'd realize I was the Duke of Villemon the moment you read the invitation."
Lefonya froze.
"...Well, I didn't. In fact, I wasn't even planning on attending this party."
"What? You weren't going to come at all? Wow. Now I'm genuinely hurt."
In all her life, Lefonya had never heard anyone say they felt hurt by her absence. People had grown furious with her, wept before her, pitied her, exploited her, and placed heavy trust upon her shoulders—but no one had ever expressed simple, personal disappointment like this.
"Besides... you used me too, spinning that tall tale just to keep the banquet from being ruined."
"What? Of course that was a lie."
"Huh?"
Rudeum tilted his head, regarding her with utter bewilderment. "Don't tell me you actually believed what I told the Duke of Craitan?"
"......"
"Haah. Lefonya, you were the one who told me not to act like we knew each other. On top of that, you claimed I was a complete stranger. Yet I had sent you the very first invitation and rushed over to greet you the second you walked through the door."
"Th-That's true, but..."
"The story didn't add up, so I improvised by weaving together a mix of truth and fiction."
"I thought you were being serious..."
"Yes, so it seems. Judging by your reaction, I must have quite a talent for lying." Rudeum let out an amused snort, clearly enjoying her embarrassment. Growing self-conscious, Lefonya crossed her arms and grumbled under her breath.
"If you had told me from the start that you were the young master of Villemon, I wouldn't have said you were a stranger."
At her words, Rudeum fell silent. He reached up, tugging at his impeccably tied cravat to loosen it slightly, and let out a soft sigh.
"...If you had known who I was from the beginning, we never would have been able to talk like this."
"What does that mean?"
"Now that you know my identity, you must want something from me."
"Want something?" Lefonya tilted her head in confusion.
"Yes. Go ahead and tell me what you desire. Let's find some common ground."
Talk about self-absorbed... She had suspected it before, but this boy really was something else.
"Hey."
"Go on. Whether it's money or political backing, just say—"
"Did you hide your identity because you assumed that if I knew you were a duke, I'd immediately demand gold or beg for your authority?"
"......"
He really is just a child trapped in such a narrow, cynical world.
"What could I possibly want from you?"
"What?"
"I don't need anything from you."
Naturally, she didn't. Once this entire charade was over, Lefonya was going to leave. There was nothing Rudeum could offer that she had any use for.
"Why?"
"Hm?"
"A valuable chess piece just appeared right before your eyes. Isn't it only natural to use it? To you, shouldn't I be an exceptional piece to play?"
Rudeum looked at her with genuine incomprehension. Hearing him casually refer to himself as a disposable pawn made it painfully obvious that he had been treated that way his entire life. As the sole heir to the Duchy of Villemon, the vultures circling him had surely never left him in peace.
"I have no interest in doing that," Lefonya said firmly. When Rudeum continued to stare at her uncomprehendingly, she added, "House Craitan already has more than enough wealth... and their influence is plenty sufficient for me. I don't need to ask you for anything."
"...Ah." A hollow, realization-filled gasp escaped his lips, and he quickly turned his face away. "Right. You're... the young lady of Craitan."
In the entire Empire, the only power capable of standing on equal footing with the Duchy of Craitan was the Duchy of Villemon. Which meant House Craitan was the single family in existence that had zero need for Villemon's favors.
The tips of Rudeum's ears flushed bright crimson. He seemed thoroughly mortified that such an obvious fact had completely slipped his mind. Lefonya tactfully averted her eyes, pretending not to notice his flustered state.
Still, to think a boy his age already viewed himself as nothing more than a chess piece on a board.
...It probably has something to do with the Dowager Duchess of Villemon.
Even so, it wasn't Lefonya's place to pry. She had neither the luxury nor the right to meddle in his personal struggles. In truth, she had never intended to forge deep ties with anyone under the guise of Craitan's daughter anyway. When everything reached its end, all of these connections would be severed.
She still had no idea why he had visited her bedroom twice, asking if she was alive and urging her to stay that way. But...
"...Even if I don't want anything from you, proper etiquette is still proper etiquette."
Business was business, and courtesy was courtesy.
"Your Grace, Duke of Villemon. Please forgive my past discourtesies."
She could not afford to tarnish the reputation of House Craitan. How they had first met or the difference in their ages mattered little; for now, she needed to play the role of the devoted daughter flawlessly.
Lefonya gathered her skirts and offered him an elegant, picture-perfect curtsy. She half-expected him to relish the formal deference now that he held the title of Duke, but—
"...Pfft."
Did he just snort?
What returned was the sound of a desperately stifled laugh. Lefonya looked up, her expression flattening in disbelief. Watching her maintain that solemn, prim posture, Rudeum had pressed a hand firmly over his mouth, turning his head as his shoulders shook with silent mirth.
Perhaps it was because they had already met twice without pretense, chatting freely in the dark. Even after discovering he was the master of House Villemon, one of the foremost pillars of the realm, she felt no crushing pressure—and strangely, not an ounce of fear.
"Excuse me, but I am greeting you right now, Your Grace? Shouldn't you accept it properly? Well? Mr. Duke? I asked you to forgive my rudeness, Your Grace!"
Or perhaps it was simply because he was the only person in her entire life who had ever told her to stay alive.
Because he had whispered those words to her in the dark, she knew that no matter what happened, he would never be the one to end her life.
"Using honorifics doesn't automatically make your words polite, my lady."
See?
Even in the face of her brazen cheek, Rudeum merely smiled. His earlier embarrassment had melted away without a trace. Reaching out, he brushed his fingers against the crown of her head and deftly slipped free the hairpin that Birdie and Becky had fastened so tightly that morning in their determination to make her look dazzling.
As the pin came away, her hair tumbled down her shoulders in soft, silken waves, bringing with it a sudden, sweet wave of relief.
Lefonya blinked up at him in wide-eyed surprise.
"Mm. It definitely looks much better like this."
"......"
"I'll be taking this, then."
Without a shred of shame, Rudeum pocketed the ornate hairpin. Tucking it securely away, he looked down at her with an infuriatingly smug tilt of his chin.
"Now that I've committed a discourtesy of my own, will you forgive me?"
"Wh-What?"
"Then let's just forgive each other, Lefonya."