Living Your Own Life
Had she ever gotten directly angry at someone in her life?
She had always been too busy accepting, understanding, or swallowing it down in silence. Though she had wept with pent-up frustration when she was all alone, she had never once vented it at another living soul.
“Father’s right, Fluffball.”
Pelens added, his expression cold and stony as he stared at the closed door.
“Don’t you dare forgive me, Father, or Brother until you feel better. Your feelings must always come first.”
It felt as though the Duke and Pelens were painstakingly pulling out, one by one with their own hands, the thousands of needles that had pierced her body.
“…Okay.”
Yet after that day, Lefonya never saw Havelian.
Havelian stopped visiting the library and never showed his face in the dining hall. Instead of taking meals with the family, he ate alone in his bedchamber, and he no longer read in the garden greenhouse. It was as if spending time with her all this while had merely been an act of charity.
Lefonya, who had loitered around the library a few times hoping to catch a glimpse of him, eventually stopped going altogether. Malice was something she was accustomed to, and resignation and acquiescence were practically second nature to her.
“Phonya. I plan to visit the Imperial Palace today.”
The Duke spoke up in the middle of breakfast.
“The Imperial Palace? Why?”
“The Duke of Villemon has requested personal protection. A council has been convened, so I must attend.”
“Rudeum did?”
Lefonya’s eyes went wide with surprise. Her soup spoon halted midair.
“It doesn’t mean something bad happened to him. Rather, because his circumstances are perilous enough to threaten his safety, he’s merely requesting permission to carry a sword when visiting the Imperial Palace or other estates, or when attending banquets.”
The Duke of Craitan naturally ladled a spoonful of soup and fed it to Lefonya, whose spoon had frozen. Rudeum was being harassed by assassins sent by the Dowager Duchess of Villemon, so it made sense that he would ask to carry a blade wherever he went.
“Did he get hurt?”
There had been no word from him, he hadn’t snuck into her bedroom, and despite calling his name several times, there had been no response. She had been wondering if she should go meet him in person.
“No, nothing like that. It’s likely for his own protection because his house has grown exponentially in such a short span. Since he’s still young, defending himself can’t be easy.”
Huh? Not because of the assassins?
“…His house is growing exponentially? House Villemon?”
The Duke nodded, feeding Lefonya another spoonful of soup.
“As soon as he succeeded to the dukedom, he began buying up islands. They were worthless, abandoned isles on the fringes of the Euril Strait—a crucial maritime trade passage. After that, he bought up all the surrounding coastal territory. Even though there was a port, it was merely a stopover rather than a major source of revenue, so people didn’t think much of it.”
Lefonya had learned about that area in her studies. Since merchant ships sailed directly along the established trade route, any disconnected peripheral islands or coastal land were considered utterly useless. Yet he had bought up every last bit of it, so people had probably laughed at him.
“He even demanded territorial rights over the surrounding waters, swallowing up the entire area. He offered the Emperor an exorbitant sum to purchase ownership, and since the harvestable resources were limited and the place was practically derelict anyway, the Emperor had no reason to refuse.”
“Why… why would Rudeum do something so foolish?”
What was he going to do with abandoned waters bought at such a steep price? Lefonya tilted her head, picturing Rudeum in her mind.
The Duke chuckled softly at her reaction.
“That’s what everyone thought.”
“…Huh?”
“At least, until pirates began lurking around the Euril Strait, preying on merchant ships.”
“Pirates?”
“They pillage, then immediately flee into foreign waters, making it nearly impossible to root them out. Nor is any nation willing to step forward and shoulder the casualties of clearing them. Naturally, the pirates run wild with glee. …Do you know what that monstrous lad did then, Phonya?”
“What?”
“The Duke of Villemon opened up his territorial waters—the very sea adjoining the Euril Strait that everyone had dismissed as useless.”
Lefonya gasped.
“He carved out an entirely new, safe shipping route. Ha. Unless he knew beforehand that pirates would run rampant, it’s an absurd feat.”
Duke Craitan swept a hand through his hair, chuckling as though finding it unbelievable even in hindsight.
“What’s more, he guaranteed safe passage from pirates while passing through his waters.”
After all, House Villemon was renowned for military might rivaling that of House Craitan.
“In exchange, he levied a twenty-five percent transit toll.”
Lefonya gasped again.
“A standard toll is around five percent, so twenty-five is astronomical. But what choice do they have? Cross paths with pirates, lose everything, and receive no compensation—or pay the toll and travel under armed escort?”
“……”
“Everyone chose the latter. Every merchant vessel is currently paying a twenty-five percent transit toll to House Villemon, and no one has the means to stop him.”
Lefonya swallowed hard.
“House Villemon is growing at an unfathomable rate.”
And it wasn’t merely the staggering fortune amassed through tolls. With things as they were, until the pirates were eradicated, his sphere of influence would extend across neighboring realms. To purchase abandoned peripheral islands and waters when a perfectly good route already existed, only to carve out a new passage…
Could there be a spirit with the power of foresight?
Of course that was impossible, but could this really be explained by mere good luck?
“So you see, a request for personal protection is hardly surprising.”
Lefonya nodded in understanding.
Wow. While I was just idling around here, Rudeum was doing something on a whole different scale.
She suddenly felt embarrassed for having grumbled every night when he failed to appear despite her calling his name in secret.
Pelens, who had been listening to their conversation while picking out distasteful vegetables from his plate, spoke up.
“Ah, Phonya. I have to drop by the Imperial Academy today as well.”
“The Academy?”
“Remember how I said I submitted an exeat pass to stay out until the graduation exam? I received a letter from the council president saying there’s an issue with the form and asking me to come in and verify it today. I must’ve botched something on the paperwork.”
Mm. That does sound like Pelens. Lefonya nodded.
“If an issue crops up, I won’t be allowed to sit for this year’s graduation exam at all. I need to graduate properly this year so I can officially be assigned as your personal escort, Phonya.”
Resting his chin in one hand, Pelens gave a languid smile and twirled the ends of Lefonya’s hair around his finger.
“Are you really going to graduate this year?”
“Of course. I’ll show you what it looks like to take first place in the exams.”
Pelens flashed a confident grin. It seemed he had genuinely set his mind on graduating this time. Though the rift between Duke Craitan and Pelens hadn’t completely mended, he was staying here at the estate rather than living at the Academy.
“Okay. I’ll look forward to it,” Lefonya agreed.
This was the first time since her adoption that both of them had left the estate simultaneously.
Honestly, the fact that they stayed cooped up in the mansion ever since adopting me was what was truly strange.
Worried sick about Lefonya, they had refused to step beyond the estate gates, keeping their eyes glued to her side at all times—which had been absurd in its own right.
It’s not like I’m leaving the mansion, so what could possibly be dangerous?
Lefonya rested her chin on her hand, gazing out the window. Rain was falling outside in a dreary drizzle. Thinking that Pelens would have a miserable trip to the Academy in this weather, she sipped the hot chocolate cream milk Becky had brought her. Just as the fluffy, sweet cream began to lift her spirits—
Knock, knock.
“I have something to say.”
Havelian’s voice came through with the knock. After spending all this time avoiding her and keeping entirely out of sight, here he was.
“Come in.”
At Lefonya’s permission, the door swung open. Seeing Havelian after such a long absence, she noticed he refused to meet her eyes. He was desperately averting his gaze.
“Could you spare a moment? There is something I must discuss with you in private.”
The Duke had told her to get angry right back at Havelian whenever she saw him, but Lefonya had no intention of doing so. Havelian simply possessed a keener memory than most and couldn’t forget his family; how could she begrudge him that or direct her anger at him?
“Sure.”
Lefonya nodded. Havelian gestured for her to follow with a curt tilt of his head and began walking.
Lefonya told Birdie, Becky, and Sir Canwell—who was standing guard in Pelens’s absence—to wait behind, then followed after Havelian. The three had insisted on accompanying her, but Lefonya had talked them out of it.
She didn’t want Havelian losing his temper in front of Birdie, Becky, and Sir Canwell. Having avoided her all this time, the only reason he would seek her out today, when everyone else was away, was to vent his frustrated resentment. Yet if witnesses saw it, word would inevitably reach Duke Craitan’s ears again, potentially jeopardizing Havelian’s position as heir.
Lefonya didn’t want that.
Because in truth, Lefonya genuinely understood Havelian—a brother who cherished his little sister so deeply that he couldn’t bring himself to forget her. Not so long ago, she herself had envied the real young lady, wishing that after she died, there would be someone who remembered her, searched for her, and waited for her like that.
“Where are we going?”
Lefonya hurried her little steps to keep pace behind him. Seeking a secluded spot, Havelian passed through the corridors and headed toward the outer grounds. Yet he offered no answer to her question.
After walking for what felt like an eternity, he abruptly ground to a halt.
“…Huh?”
Waiting just beyond was a carriage so shabby it could never belong to a ducal estate.
“This is for your own good as well. Living your own life might be far better than living as someone else’s substitute.”
“What do you mean by—mmph!”
Before the words could leave her mouth, a large hand clamped down over Lefonya’s nose and lips from behind. Her tiny body was scooped clean off the ground.
“Mmmph! Mmm!”
“Shh. Be quiet, my lady.”
A familiar voice murmured from behind. Having never forgotten a voice once heard, she recognized it immediately.
It was the retainers who still lingered within the estate.