Starting the very next day, applications for my fiancé search came flooding in.

It looked as though every unmarried man in the capital had submitted one.

 

Time passed quickly.

Work began on laying the foundation of the Grand Plaza, and Ruspell informed me of the date for the first trial of the magic device “Sprinkler”.

A week later, the application period came to an end.

The butler painstakingly narrowed the applicants down to thirty candidates, all of whom sat for the written examination.

Of those, fifteen achieved high enough scores to advance and completed their personality assessments yesterday.

Now all that remained was selecting the ten candidates who would move on to the one-on-one interviews.

“Portraits weren’t even a required document, yet every single applicant included one.”

Every last one of them was strikingly handsome.

No doubt they’d slipped an artist a generous sum to flatter their looks.

“They’re only going to be found out at the interview. What’s the point…?”

As I reviewed the files of the remaining fiancé candidates, my gaze drifted into space.

Today was the last day of my ‘crow cycle.’

Not once during the past week had a system prompt appeared.

‘Hasn’t it been a little too quiet?’

Even though I’d been doing exactly as I pleased, the lousy author hadn’t interfered once.

‘Normally, he’d have sabotaged me by now…’

I had no idea what he was plotting, but I decided not to dwell on it.

If the lousy author stayed out of my way, that only worked in my favor.

Just as I finished reviewing the applications and arranging the interview order, the butler entered the study carrying an elegant box.

“Master, the scabbard you commissioned has been completed. Would you like to inspect it?”

“Bring it here.”

If I wanted to avoid Owen’s ability, I needed Lulu.

The problem was that Lulu was far too heavy to carry around.

So I’d secretly commissioned a mage to create a magical scabbard. (TN: A scabbard is the protective sheath that a sword/dagger is carried in.)

One enchanted with weight-reduction magic.

‘At last… I can finally leave the manor.’

I’d been cooped up inside all this time, waiting for the scabbard to be finished.

If I’d gone out and happened to run into Owen, I’d have been in serious trouble.

“The Academy’s autumn opening ceremony is next week, correct?”

“Yes, Master.”

As fate would have it, the Academy’s opening ceremony fell on the very same day as the first trial of Ruspell’s Sprinkler.

“The Academy has been asking whether you’ll be attending the opening ceremony. How should I respond?”

“…”

“Master?”

“Wait.”

“Yes, Master.”

I simply folded my arms and waited patiently for a system prompt to appear.

‘Let’s see if you keep your mouth shut this time, too.’

Even after a long while, not a single damned prompt appeared.

Not even for an event directly involving the protagonist.

‘Can I take this as permission to keep doing whatever I want? Fine by me, lousy author. Better yet, stay out of my business forever. Things have been going so smoothly without you around, I’m practically on the verge of reaching the ending already.’

I nodded in satisfaction.

“I’ll already be at the Academy to observe the experiment anyway. Tell them I’ll attend.”

“Understood.”

“And make an appointment at a dressmaker’s for this afternoon.”

“Wouldn’t it be more convenient to have the designer come here?”

“The dress isn’t for me.”

“…You’re planning to buy a dress for Miss Fiache?”

“I can’t very well send a child sponsored by House Ivrante to the opening ceremony dressed in just anything.”

“I’ll make an appointment with the finest children’s dressmaker in the capital.”

“And have Fiache ready as well.”

“Yes, Master.”

I gathered up the documents I’d been reviewing and handed them to the butler.

“The ten files on top are the finalists. Set a date for the interviews and notify them.”

“Yes, Master.”

The butler took the candidates’ files and withdrew.

The moment the door shut behind him, I hurriedly opened the box.

Inside lay the scabbard, nestled in crimson velvet.

Amethysts encircled its length, while a large diamond adorned its center, scattering brilliant light in every direction.

“Oh, this turned out rather well. Come take a look, everyone. What do you think?”

• Oh my! Is this Lulu’s new outfit? Lulu, do you like it?
• Lulu seems to like it as well. I think it’s beautiful.
• Damn, it’s flashy as hell. People won’t even notice Lulu anymore.

“I had it made that way on purpose. Lulu’s supposed to be a family heirloom that’s been passed down through generations. It’d look strange carrying something like that around in an ordinary scabbard.”

Gnome slipped Lulu into the scabbard.

The violet blade and the amethysts complemented each other perfectly.

The diamond brightened what might otherwise have looked too dark.

• Oh my, doesn’t our Lulu look magnificent? I’m in love.
• She really does. It looks wonderful.
• …Yeah, it suits her. Don’t you think, Gnome?
• (Nod!)

The spirits twirled Lulu around in the air as though dancing before presenting her to me.

I fastened the scabbard at my waist.

It still had a reassuring weight to it.

“Looks like even weight-reduction magic can’t eliminate the weight entirely.”

Still, thanks to its extravagant design, it didn’t look at all out of place with my dress.

“It’s a little heavy, but it’ll be easy enough to carry around. Lulu, we’ll be together from now on.”

Rumbleee. Rululul. Furururu.

• I can’t believe I’m getting to see this again… sniff… Why am I crying? Waaaah!
• It’s been such a long time since Lulu laughed like that. She must be so happy.
• Ngh… Why’s this getting to me…? Gnome! Don’t wipe my eyes! Damn it, that’s embarrassing… Hey, knock it off! I said stop! Those aren’t tears, it’s just my nose running!

The spirits sincerely celebrated the Ego Sword’s return to its master.

***

 

That afternoon, I headed to the dressmaker’s with Fiache.

The maid accompanying me today was Caroline, the one in charge of Fiache’s wardrobe.

I’d always been impressed by Caroline’s impeccable taste, so I chose her as my attendant without a second thought.

After all, I was planning to buy out half the shop today.

Unlike me, who was positively giddy at the prospect of spending an obscene amount of money, the carriage was silent.

Caroline was so intimidated by me that she barely dared to breathe, while Fiache was unusually quiet.

Glancing at me cautiously, Caroline leaned over and whispered to Fiache,

“Miss, are you sleepy?”

“Mhm… a little…”

“You mustn’t fall asleep. Just try to hold on a little longer.”

She seemed terrified that Fiache might nod off in front of me and appear unladylike.

Her voice trembled ever so slightly.

Pretending not to notice, I kept my eyes on the view outside the window.

The reflection in the glass showed Fiache, half-asleep.

Beside her sat Caroline, fidgeting anxiously.

‘I must’ve been out of my mind. Eight rounds of hide-and-seek before dawn… I really should’ve known when to stop.’

Besides, this was usually Fiache’s naptime.

No wonder she was struggling to stay awake.

‘Her birthday’s only a few days away, so I wanted to bring her out… Maybe I should’ve just let her rest instead.’

It couldn’t be helped.

The only thing to do was finish shopping as quickly as possible and head back.

The dressmaker the butler had reserved didn’t look like an ordinary children’s boutique.

A refined fragrance lingered in the air, and the interior was luxuriously appointed.

It was the sort of place designed to appeal more to parents than children.

After all, parents were the ones spending the money.

‘No wonder it’s the most sought-after dressmaker in the capital… Clever.’

The designer, who had been waiting for our arrival, greeted us with a radiant smile.

“Your Grace! It’s an honor to welcome you. My name is Elise, and I’ll be assisting you today.”

“I trust you’ve made the necessary preparations.”

“Of course! After speaking with your butler, I selected dresses that I thought would suit the young miss perfectly. If you’ll follow me, please.”

Fiache and I took our seats on a sofa.

Around us, more than a dozen dresses and an assortment of accessories had been beautifully arranged for display.

“As a token of our appreciation for your visit, we’ve prepared a small gift. It’s nothing extravagant, but I do hope you’ll accept it.”

Elise handed over a small box.

Inside, nestled among decorative flowers, was a beautifully embroidered handkerchief.

It wasn’t a gift meant to curry favor with me.

It was for Fiache.

‘Now that’s good service.’

Setting the box aside, I leaned back against the sofa.

“Fiache, why don’t you pick something you like?”

Fiache, who had looked utterly spellbound ever since we entered the shop, shifted awkwardly.

For some reason, her complexion had darkened.

“Y-Your Grace…”

“Yes?”

“D-Do… do I have to go back to the orphanage?”

“The orphanage?”

“Y-You’re t-trying to s-send me away. I-I know.”

“…Send you away? Why would you think that?”

Fiache bit down on her lip.

Her large eyes were already shimmering with tears.

“B-Before… the M-Marquess bought m-me a p-present once… and th-that night… wh-when I woke up… I-I was in a c-carriage.”

“A carriage?”

“A c-carriage… t-to the o-orphanage.”

“…”

“I c-cried and b-begged the c-coachman to t-take me h-home… b-but he s-said he couldn’t. H-He said… m-my home wasn’t the M-Marquess’s house anymore… it was the o-orphanage.”

So her adoptive parents had bought her a gift before giving her up.

‘If they did it because they felt guilty… then they’re absolute bastards.’

Instead of wasting time buying her presents, they should’ve told her.

At least then she could’ve prepared herself.

‘Come to think of it, what happened to the investigation I commissioned from the information guild? I haven’t heard anything yet.’

Then again, I could already guess what had happened without reading the report.

“I-I don’t w-want to g-go back to the o-orphanage. I-I w-want to l-live… w-with Y-Your Grace….”

As her sobs grew louder, so did her stammer.

By the end, it was almost impossible to understand what she was saying.

“…”

I knew Fiache’s stammer came from emotional wounds.

She never stammered when she was with me as a crow.

Only in front of people did she freeze up and struggle to speak.

‘You bastard who did this to Fiache… just wait. Once you realize she spoke perfectly fine all through the night, I’ll make sure you experience exactly how I felt.’

Having been abandoned once before, Fiache lived in constant fear that she’d be cast aside again.

What she needed wasn’t presents.

She needed the certainty…

…the unwavering belief…

…that she would never be abandoned again.

I watched the tears hanging from her chin before speaking.

“You want to keep living with me?”

“Sniff… Y-Yes…”

“Then choose something.”

“…Huh?”

“Whatever you choose, I promise I won’t send you away until it’s worn out and gone.”

“…R-Really?”

“Do I look like someone who would lie to you?”

“N-No! N-Not at all!”

“Go on, then. And wipe those tears away properly first.”

“Okay!!!”

Fiache scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand.

Caroline hurriedly took out a handkerchief.

“Oh, Miss, you’ll hurt yourself doing that. Let me.”

“O-Okay!”

“There… all done. Now off you go.”

“Yes!”

Answering brightly, Fiache finally began looking around in earnest.

She glanced over the dresses and jewelry only briefly before stopping in front of the stationery.

She lingered there for quite some time.

‘Is she afraid the dresses are too expensive to choose?’

I shot Caroline a meaningful look.

“Caroline, help Fiache choose.”

“Yes, Master!”

Caroline, who had already been watching Fiache with a troubled expression, gently led her toward the dresses.

“How about this ribbon and these shoes? I think they’d look lovely with this dress.”

“Um…”

“Don’t you like them? Then… oh! Here’s a pair of pink loafers in your favorite color. What do you think?”

“Mm… they’re pretty.”

“You don’t have to choose just one. Try on everything you like.”

“I-I… I-I’ve p-picked.”

“Really? Which one? Miss, show me too.”

“This one!”

The item Fiache held up was a pen.

A cute pen adorned with a fluffy pink feather.

With so many extravagant and expensive things on display, she’d chosen nothing more than a pen.

“A pen? But, Miss, surely…”

Caroline looked genuinely disappointed on her behalf, but I thought I understood why Fiache had chosen it.

‘Because a pen won’t wear out and disappear, no matter how much time passes.’

I set down my teacup and rose to my feet.

“We’ll purchase everything that was prepared for us… and everything the child looked at, even once.”

The corners of Elise’s mouth nearly reached her ears.

“My, Your Grace! As expected of the Duchess—your generosity is on another level! There are rather a lot of items, so it’ll take some time to load everything into the carriage. Will that be all right?”

I looked at Fiache.

She was clutching the pen with both hands, her mouth hanging open in astonishment.

“Fiache, are you taking the pen with you?”

“Y-Yes… b-but… I-I only p-picked… o-one thing…”

“That’s right. I picked the rest.”

“…Huh?”

“Miss, these are gifts from Her Grace. Say thank you and accept them. Go on.”

Smiling, Caroline whispered the words to the bewildered child.

Fiache’s face instantly flushed bright red.

“Th-Thank you…”

“You may take the pen with you now. Have the rest sent to the manor.”

“Certainly. It seems our adorable young miss has truly fallen in love with that pen! In that case, I’ll place it in a lovely little handbag for her. Please wait just a moment!”

The instant Elise turned away, the boutique’s door swung open and someone walked in.

It was a noblewoman with soft chestnut-brown hair elegantly pinned up, accompanied by a little girl who looked to be about seven or eight years old.

“Is this really how you conduct business? Since when is it acceptable to cancel someone’s reservation without so much as asking?”

It seemed Elise had canceled all of her appointments because of me.

Since we were finished anyway, I was about to excuse myself—

Thud.

Fiache dropped the pen, her face drained of all color.

The moment she saw the noblewoman and the little girl, she hurried behind Caroline, hiding herself.

Her fingers gripped Caroline’s skirt so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

“M-Miss?”

Shake, shake, shake!

Fiache frantically shook her head.

It was as though she were begging Caroline not to let them notice she was there.

Caroline looked at me in confusion, silently asking what she should do.

I answered with a subtle glance, signaling her to stay exactly where she was.

“I’ve been coming here for years! How can you treat a loyal customer like this—”

The noblewoman, who had been shouting with the veins in her neck standing out, suddenly spotted me and her eyes went wide.

The irritation vanished from her voice in an instant, replaced by polished elegance.

“Oh my, I didn’t realize you had a guest… Would you happen to be Her Grace, the Duchess Ivrante?”

“And you are?”

“My name is Floria Moulton. I’ve long wished for the opportunity to meet Your Grace, and what a surprise to find you here.”

“And the child?”

“My daughter, Bianca. She’s seven years old. Bianca, greet Her Grace.”

“…”

“Bianca?”

The little girl, who had been pouting, finally opened her mouth.

“I don’t waaaant to!!!”

…Wow.

That was astonishingly loud.

“You promised you’d buy me a new dress! When are you going to buy it?!”

“All right, all right. If you greet Her Grace nicely, Mother will buy you a dress. Our Bianca is a good girl, isn’t she? Now, say hello.”

“No! No! I said I don’t waaant to!!!”

Bianca dropped onto the floor and immediately began throwing a full-blown tantrum.

The exhausted-looking maid stepped forward, trying to help her up.

“Miss, you mustn’t behave like this. Please stand up.”

“Go away!”

Thud!

Bianca swung her fist straight into the maid’s face.

“Ugh!”

The maid stumbled back with a quiet groan, clutching her eye as though she’d been struck there.

Judging by the countless scratches and bruises already covering her face, this clearly wasn’t the first time.

“You promised! Why aren’t you keeping your promise?! Buy it for me! Buy it nowww!”

Her shrill screams echoed through the boutique.

She was yelling so loudly it was impossible to think straight.

Even Elise, who was obviously accustomed to scenes like this, finally gave up and discreetly covered her ears.

“Oh my… whatever has gotten into her?”

Noticing me watching, Marchioness Moulton smiled gracefully.

“It seems our Bianca isn’t in the best of moods today. She’s normally such a sweet child, but she’s terribly upset that she couldn’t buy her dress. I hope Your Grace can understand.”

She didn’t scold Bianca.

Not when the girl punched her maid.

Not when she threw herself onto the floor.

She maintained her elegant composure throughout.

Instead of disciplining a child who was causing a scene in someone else’s shop, she expected another customer to be understanding.

It was completely beyond me.

“What did you say?”

“…Pardon?”

“It was too noisy. I couldn’t hear you. Say it again.”

“…”

The Marchioness’s smile stiffened ever so slightly.

She shot the maid a sharp look.

The maid immediately tried once more to calm Bianca.

“Miss… please don’t do this…”

“And who are you?! I told you to go away! Get out! Go away!”

“Ahh!”

This time Bianca grabbed the maid by the hair and yanked hard.

‘She’s only seven, and she’s that strong?’

Watching her fling the maid around by the hair, I was left speechless.

Yet neither Elise nor any of the boutique’s staff looked surprised.

They merely watched the poor maid with sympathetic eyes.

Not one of them seemed shocked by Bianca’s outrageous behavior.

Their expressions simply said,

“Here we go again.”

‘So she’s been acting like this outside the house too. Are the children of noble families all like this?’

The only child I really knew was Fiache.

For all I knew, maybe I was the odd one for being so outraged.

Bianca finally quieted down for a moment, occupied with taking out her frustration on the maid.

Seizing the opportunity, Marchioness Moulton resumed speaking in the same refined tone as before.

“I promised to buy my daughter a dress today, yet the boutique canceled our reservation without warning. She’s simply so heartbroken that she can’t control herself. I hope Your Grace will understand.”

“I don’t.”

“…Pardon?”

“Is failing to buy a single dress really enough to break a child’s heart? Is that supposed to justify all of this? Exactly what part of it am I meant to understand?”

A crack appeared in Marchioness Moulton’s composure.

The smile lingering on her lips gradually faded.

“Where I come from, if a child is making enough noise to disrupt someone’s business, the proper response is to discipline them. It seems your views on raising children are rather different from mine, Marchioness.”

“…”

“Of course, I have no intention of interfering with how you choose to raise your daughter. Still, at seven years old, shouldn’t a child at least understand not to inconvenience other people?”

I paused for a moment before smiling gracefully.

“Ah, don’t misunderstand. I only say that because our Fiache understands as much already, despite being only five.”

“…I heard that Fiache has officially become House Ivrante’s ward. I must admit, I was quite worried.”

“Worried about Fiache?”

“No, naturally I was worried about Your Grace.”

‘And why exactly would you be worried about me?’

The question wasn’t even worth asking.

The Marchioness shook her head sympathetically.

“Fiache is terribly behind children her own age. I’m afraid she’ll only become a stain on Your Grace’s reputation.”

“A stain? You’re talking about Fiache?”

“Naturally. Even at her age, she can barely speak properly. She stammers, she’s timid, and she’s painfully slow in everything she does… Sigh. I suffered a great deal because of that child.”

“I assumed you’d left everything to the maids and paid her no mind. I must say, I’m surprised.”

“W-Well…”

“Tell me, then. I’d love to hear exactly what hardships Fiache caused you.”

The Marchioness faltered.

She blinked several times before finally answering vaguely,

“I-I can’t go into detail, but… I truly did my best. I considered her my own daughter, after all. Unfortunately, there was simply no correcting her violent nature.”

‘Violent? Fiache, who’d stop to treat an injured wild bird? That’s the funniest load of nonsense I’ve heard all day.’

“Oh my, don’t tell me no one informed Your Grace? Fiache was disowned because she attacked our Bianca.”

I let out a quiet laugh.

“I did read the report saying Fiache scratched Bianca’s forehead.”

“I’m relieved to hear that. Every word of it is true. Because of Fiache, our Bianca suffered a terrible wound to her forehead. Every time I see the scar, my heart aches…”

I raised an eyebrow as I looked at Bianca’s forehead.

It was perfectly smooth and fair.

“A scar?”

The Marchioness cleared her throat.

“I-If you look closely… it’s definitely there.”

“I see. So Fiache somehow managed to injure a girl much bigger than herself. I suppose she must’ve suddenly developed the strength of a bear.”

“Are… are you saying you don’t believe me?”

“No, I do believe you.”

I smiled pleasantly.

“I’m simply curious whether Bianca stood perfectly still while Fiache scratched her forehead.”

“…Pardon?”

“A child who can’t control her temper and lashes out at anyone within reach… are you saying she simply let Fiache do as she pleased?”

“Your Grace! How could you say such a thing? Bianca would never—”

“Don’t mistake my question for an unfounded assumption.”

I held her gaze.

“I suggest you answer it.”

“…”

Marchioness Moulton bit down hard on her lip.

There was nothing she could say.

Because Fiache had undoubtedly been beaten far more severely by Bianca…

…far more severely than the tiny scratch Bianca had received.

The reason it had never been recorded was simple.

Fiache was an orphan.

Bianca was the precious daughter of a marquess.

“Did Fiache tell you we’d abused her? I suspected as much… So that’s why House Ivrante cut ties with us.”

“Cut ties?”

“My husband told me. He said House Ivrante abruptly terminated all business with us. Do you have any idea how much trouble that caused our family? Or are you saying that isn’t the reason?”

Terminated our business?

‘What is she talking about…? Ah.’

“Are you referring to the Fabius Construction Guild?”

“Naturally. Which other guild would I be talking about?”

The Marchioness answered sharply.

She seemed convinced I was only pretending not to know.

‘So the Fabius Construction Guild belongs to the Marquess Moulton. Interesting.’

So her husband had only told her that I’d ended our business relationship.

Apparently, he’d neglected to mention the embezzlement.

“I wondered why Your Grace suddenly canceled the contract… but I never imagined you’d make decisions that affected your entire house based on the scheming of a mere child.”

“By your own account, Fiache is behind children her own age and can barely speak.”

I smiled.

“How exactly would a child like that manipulate me? She probably didn’t even know what abuse was.”

“Then why…?”

“Wouldn’t it be better to ask Marquess Moulton that question yourself? Of course, I could tell you.”

I smiled a little wider.

“Assuming you’re prepared to humiliate yourself.”

The Marchioness bristled, but she didn’t press the issue.

She really was an experienced woman.

“I’d rather you answer one of my questions first. I’ve been curious about it for some time, but I couldn’t very well ask Fiache.”

“…What would you like to know?”

“Did you abuse Fiache?”

“Absolutely not! Abuse? How could you accuse me of something so vulgar? Honestly, if anyone were to overhear such slander…”

“Then why did a perfectly healthy child develop selective mutism? According to the records, she was already suffering from it when you relinquished custody. Doesn’t that mean something happened to Fiache while she was living in your household?”

“How should I know? I’m not a physician! It’s true Fiache was injured rather often. But isn’t that perfectly normal when children play together?”

“So you consider that perfectly normal…”

“If you find it so hard to believe, ask Fiache yourself! Ask her whether I ever laid a hand on her!”

To be fair, a woman who wouldn’t even hold her own daughter’s hand hardly seemed the type to strike Fiache herself.

But if Fiache had been injured so often…

…then Bianca was the obvious culprit.

‘Did Bianca hit her? Or treat her like a doll because she looked down on her for being an orphan?’

Even so, Bianca had only been seven years old.

‘That alone doesn’t seem like enough to leave a child with selective mutism…’

“Your Grace, think about it. Our Bianca is nobly born.”

“And?”

“The only reason Fiache was allowed to live with a marquess’s family for an entire year was because of Bianca. Bianca wanted a younger sister. What greater honor could there possibly be for a common orphan?”

The sheer arrogance of it sent a chill down my spine.

I hadn’t thought there could be anyone besides Adrianne capable of saying something like that aloud.

With a practiced flick, Marchioness Moulton opened her fan and began fanning herself gracefully.

“So, even Your Grace—a noble among nobles—shares the same opinion as I do. Or… was I mistaken?”

The Marchioness’s meaning was obvious.

‘You’re even more prejudiced about birth than I am. You don’t even see commoners as people.’

If this were the old Adrianne, she’d probably have been right.

The original Adrianne likely hadn’t cared in the slightest about what Fiache had gone through.

‘Too bad for you. I’m not Adrianne.’

I smiled coldly.

“It seems you’ve misunderstood something. I’m simply curious what a child who is now an official ward of House Ivrante was subjected to while living under the roof of a marquess.”

The Marchioness couldn’t hide her surprise.

She’d realized that I viewed what had happened to Fiache as a matter between noble houses…

…and that I had every intention of settling the score.

“Y-Your Grace… at the time, Fiache wasn’t yet under your protection.”

“I’m rather petty.”

“…Isn’t that all in the past? The past should remain in the past. Surely that’s the only way Fiache can make a fresh start.”

“Fiache already has. So don’t concern yourself over that.”

I smiled pleasantly.

“The trouble is… I have a very long memory.”

The Marchioness wasn’t easily intimidated.

Narrowing her eyes, she asked,

“Is Fiache enrolling at the Academy, by any chance?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Seeing Your Grace in a dressmaker’s like this tells me everything I need to know.”

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

“It seems you’re rather fond of Fiache. You even came here personally to buy her dresses… didn’t you?”

“In my own way.”

“But did you know this? Status means nothing at the Academy. Whether a child is the daughter of a marquess or the ward of a ducal house, they’re all simply students.”

“And?”

“So even if children quarrel among themselves, their families aren’t permitted to interfere. Matters must be settled within the Academy. Those are the rules.”

‘I see. So this is a threat.’

If I didn’t stay on her good side…

…she was implying she’d have her daughter make Fiache’s life miserable.

‘Still… that’s odd. This feels like someone who’s going to keep showing up.’

I’d assumed Marchioness Moulton and Bianca were nothing more than one-off extras.

The sort who torment the protagonist once before disappearing from the story.

“Does your daughter attend the Academy as well?”

“She’s in her third year. She intends to become a mage.”

“…Has her mana awakened?”

The Marchioness proudly fluttered her fan.

“It awakened when she was only three years old. They called her a magical prodigy because her mana manifested even earlier than Master Ruspell’s. Even His Majesty remarked that he’d be watching her career with great interest.”

‘Hold on…Mana awakened at three years old. A magical prodigy. Expected to rival Ruspell one day…and an absolutely rotten personality. Could she be…? Have I finally found the villain?’

I studied Bianca carefully.

Apparently she’d worked off her frustration by tormenting the maid.

She was giggling to herself…

…a fistful of the maid’s hair still clutched tightly in her hand.

‘Well, they do say a tree is known by its shoots. I’d say she’s showing her true colors already.’

I couldn’t help feeling a little deflated.

I hadn’t been expecting a villain on the level of the Demon King…

…but this was almost disappointingly petty.

‘Did the author lower the caliber of the villains because this is a childcare novel?’

No.

That wasn’t it.

Bianca was still a child.

That was why she seemed so insignificant.

‘Maybe she’ll be different when she’s older.’

Suppose that one day she grew into a mage whose power rivaled Ruspell’s.

And then, one day, she suddenly decided to conquer the world.

‘…Oh. That might actually suit her.’

Bianca alone wouldn’t be enough, of course.

But every villain had followers.

‘It wouldn’t be balanced if only the protagonist had companions. The villain must have allies too.’

Looking at it that way, it was entirely possible.

After all, even the Demon King hadn’t invaded the human world alone.

My eyes drifted toward the empty air.

‘Even the lack of a system prompt is becoming a problem…’

If Bianca were an important villain, a prompt should have appeared.

Yet there was still nothing.

The trouble was that things had been quiet for so long now that I couldn’t tell whether this was simply more of the same…

…or whether Bianca wasn’t important enough to trigger a prompt in the first place.

‘Well… I’ll find out eventually.’

Even if Bianca did turn out to be the final mastermind, that was a problem for the distant future.

At her current level…

…she wasn’t even worthy of being an extra villain.

‘Still… who does she think she’s threatening?’

I never imagined I’d find myself saying this…

‘A mere marchioness dares threaten a duchess? Using her own daughter, no less? Has this woman completely lost her mind?’

The anger that had momentarily subsided while I observed Bianca surged back with a vengeance.

It had been a long time since I’d been so furious my head felt hot.

I spoke calmly.

“Marchioness Moulton.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The Marchioness lifted her chin proudly as she answered.

“Are you aware that the Academy recently introduced a policy allowing parents to observe classes?”

“Of course. Everyone was delighted. No matter how often people petitioned for it before, the Academy always refused. Then, all of a sudden, they introduced an observation policy. But… why do you ask?”

“I was the one who had that policy enacted.”

“…Y-Your Grace? H-How could you possibly…?”

“With enough money and enough influence, very little is impossible. What makes you think I’d concern myself with rules?”

Clatter.

The fan slipped from Marchioness Moulton’s hand.

She could only stare at me in stunned silence.

Rather than celebrating the new policy, she should’ve looked into how it had come to exist in the first place.

“If anything unpleasant happens to Fiache at the Academy…I intend to intervene personally.”

“W-What exactly do you mean by that…?”

“I mean I’ll hold not only the child responsible…but the parents as well. As I said, I’m rather petty.”

“…”

“Oh, that’s right. You mentioned that whatever happens at the Academy must be resolved within the Academy.”

“Y-Yes! Exactly, so—”

“I’ll simply abolish that rule.”

“N-No…”

Marchioness Moulton began stammering incoherently, completely at a loss for words.

“W-Wait just a moment, Your Grace! That’s not what I meant… I-I think you’ve misunderstood…”

I walked right past her and stopped in front of Bianca.

I stood over her, looking down without a word.

The little girl instinctively shrank her shoulders.

“Your name was Bianca, wasn’t it? It seems one of the Academy’s rules is about to disappear because of you. Do your best.”

“W-Waaahhh!”

‘…What did I do? All I did was encourage her to do her best.’

Bianca’s booming wail once again filled the boutique.

‘She certainly has a powerful voice. She’d make quite the singing villain.’

It was just as I glanced back at her with that thought—

The maid, white as a sheet, hurriedly scooped Bianca into her arms and ran out of the shop.

“…?”

I watched the boutique door swing violently shut behind them before turning back.

“Oh, one more thing. If anything happens to Fiache at the Academy…I’ll assume Bianca was responsible.”

“W-What do you mean…?”

“I mean if Fiache gets into a fight with another child, gets hurt, gets bullied…”

I paused for a moment.

“…or even trips over her own feet…I’ll assume Bianca was behind it.”

The Marchioness visibly flinched.

‘Looks like that struck a nerve. Were you planning to have other children bully Fiache for Bianca? Is that it?’

“Th-There’s no such law!”

“I am the law.”

“…”

“So you’d better hope nothing at all happens to Fiache.”

The Marchioness’s lips quivered indignantly as she spun on her heel—

“You may leave once I’m finished speaking.”

—only to stop dead.

“Even your husband doesn’t turn his back on me without permission. I think it’s time you remembered your place, Marchioness.”

“…”

“You may go.”

“…Th-Thank you, Your Grace.”

The Marchioness dipped into a shallow curtsy before hurrying out of the boutique.

Silence settled over the room.

Even though the source of the disturbance was gone, Elise and the other attendants still looked frightened.

They kept sneaking glances at me, but no one dared speak.

‘…Was I the real source of the disturbance?’

After standing there awkwardly for a moment, I gave Elise a small nod.

“What happened to the pen? Weren’t you going to wrap it?”

“Huh? O-Of course! J-Just a moment, please!”

Elise hurried into the back while the rest of the attendants began straightening up the boutique.

Only then did the frozen atmosphere begin to thaw.

“Y-Your Grace…”

Fiache, who had spent the entire time hiding behind Caroline without making a sound, timidly approached me.

She reached out and gently took hold of the hem of my dress.

“I-I’m… s-s-sorry…”

“For what?”

“I-I h-hid… l-like a c-coward…I-I’m s-sorry I w-wasn’t… b-brave.”

“Were you frightened?”

“Y-Yes… I-I was s-so… s-so scared…”

“Then you did nothing wrong. If you’re frightened, it’s perfectly all right to hide. You can do that from now on, too.”

“…Really?”

“But before you hide, think about it. Ask yourself whether it’s really something to be afraid of. Whether it can actually hurt you. Think it through carefully.”

“W-What… if I’m s-still scared?”

“Then keep hiding.”

Fiache lowered her gaze and fell into thought. After a moment, she slowly shook her head.

“…N-No. I-I don’t want that. Fiache… doesn’t want to keep hiding anymore.”

“Why?”

“B-Because…”

Fiache trailed off before suddenly lifting her head.

“Because I’m an Ivrante!”

To Fiache, the Moulton family wasn’t merely a painful memory.

They were fear itself.

And yet the child was trying to overcome that fear on her own.

Even though the mere sight of them made her tremble.

‘How hard must that little head of hers have struggled over this?’

She was so admirable, so brave, that I simply couldn’t help myself.

I lightly tapped the top of her round little head.

“Good. That’s worthy of an Ivrante.”

Fiache’s eyes flew wide open in surprise before she gingerly touched the top of her head.

Her fair cheeks flushed as red as a ripe apple.

I hadn’t even patted her properly.

I’d practically just poked her with complete indifference.

And yet she looked that happy.

Just as I found myself smiling without realizing it, Caroline caught my eye.

She looked so moved that tears had begun to well up in her eyes.

‘…Ah, crap!’

Only then did it occur to me that what I’d just done didn’t suit Adrianne’s character at all.

‘It’s too early for this… I’m still supposed to be the cold, unfeeling guardian. What am I supposed to do now? Ah, whatever. My hand moved on its own. The lousy author can figure out how to clean this up.’

“Your Grace, the wrapping is finished. Here…”

“Put the handkerchief inside and give it to the child.”

“Of course. Miss, this handbag is made of genuine leather. It’s one of our products, so you can carry it to the Academy.”

“Th-Thank you.”

Fiache gave a little bow and accepted the handbag.

The pink bag embroidered with a yellow chick suited her perfectly, both in size and color.

I turned to Elise.

Making sure she understood I fully intended to become a regular customer.

Then, as though something had just occurred to me, I asked,

“Oh, do you happen to know where the Moulton estate is?”

“I do. We’ve delivered there many times since they’re one of our regular customers. But… may I ask why, Your Grace?”

“I don’t quite feel at ease after earlier.”

“…Pardon?”

A strange expression crossed Elise’s face.

After thoroughly tearing the Marchioness apart, I was suddenly saying I didn’t feel at ease.

She was probably wondering what on earth I meant.

“At any rate, I was thinking of sending them a gift. If it’s inconvenient, you don’t have to tell me. I can always find out another way.”

“N-Not at all! Of course I should tell you. Would you like me to draw you a map as well?”

I smiled pleasantly.

“That sounds like an excellent idea.”