Arc-6 Ch-06
Question
Clarice Fia Atley’s life was one of blessings.
Born the daughter of Bernard Fia Atley, head of the Atley family and a minister of the Holfort Kingdom, she was betrothed to a young man of the Marmoria family—a lineage of prestige and renown dating back to the kingdom’s founding.
With a heritage rich in both status and wealth, blessed with exceptional beauty and a promising fiancé, she possessed everything a noblewoman could desire. From the very beginning, she was a young lady destined to triumph in life without the slightest effort.
But the course of her life darkened once her fiancé, Jilk Fia Marmoria, enrolled in the Royal Academy. The cause lay in the arrival of a female student admitted on a special scholarship.
Her name was Olivia—a girl who would later be hailed as the “Saint of Salvation” for twice repelling the Fanoss Principality’s invasions.
For a noblewoman like Clarice, who had believed there was nothing in life she could not obtain, having her fiancé taken by a commoner girl was the height of humiliation.
For Clarice—and indeed for any noblewoman of the kingdom—to be robbed of anything by another was unthinkable. If it had been another noble, perhaps it could have been endured. But for the rival to be a mere commoner?
Commoners were insects crawling upon the earth, weeds sprouting by the roadside. To be threatened by one was intolerable.
Naturally, frictions surrounding Olivia soon grew intense.
And yet, despite the hostility, Olivia never faltered.
At times, she seemed even to regard the harassment as little more than childish.
As Olivia threw herself into her studies and training, the acts of harassment gradually dwindled.
This was partly due to the protection she received from noble heirs who became her allies, but more importantly, many noblewomen realized within half a year of Olivia’s enrollment that they could not hope to match her in either academics or practical skills.
While noble ladies idled away their time with frivolous aristocratic pursuits, the commoner girl pushed herself relentlessly, sacrificing sleep and meals in the process.
No matter how many advantages nobles received from childhood compared to commoners, most heirs and daughters remained unremarkable.
Even if one began behind, a rare talent combined with tireless effort would, in time, surpass them all.
Moreover, when the Fanoss Principality invaded, the corrupt actions of certain nobles drew harsh condemnation, not only from upright aristocrats but also from the common people, gravely undermining the nobility’s standing within the Holfort Kingdom.
While the commoner Olivia won the title of “Saint” for repelling the invasion, what were the nobles doing?
They abandoned their people, deserted their lands, and even debased themselves by colluding with the enemy in order to beg for their lives.
And what, then, is a noble?
A noble is granted the right to rule solely because they protect their land and people.
Those who flee from battle out of fear for their own lives are no nobles at all.
And the one who repelled the principality’s army was no noble, but a mere teenage commoner girl.
Her resolve and ability far outstripped those of the noble heirs and daughters who had fled.
It was then that Clarice was forced at last to acknowledge her own defeat.
※ ※ ※ ※ ※
“So, that’s why I’m now searching for a new marriage prospect,” Clarice said.
“There isn’t much sense of tragedy in your tone, Clarice-senpai. I thought the old you would still be raging about the broken engagement,” I replied.
“Please, don’t call me senpai. The academy’s hierarchy has no meaning here.”
“…Understood.”
After the commotion at the party hall, I had been quietly ushered into a separate chamber.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Lady Mylene subtly whisper something to Clarice, and immediately I was moved to this room.
The ability to gauge others’ emotions and steer the flow of events with such precision is a skill I utterly lack.
That is precisely why Lady Mylene, despite marrying into another land as a teenager, still reigns as the de facto ruler of this kingdom after more than twenty years.
No—I must not lose focus.
The one I am to face here is not Lady Mylene, but Minister Bernard.
If I let my attention stray to other matters, even something bound for success could unravel.
“You’re saying you feel no anger or resentment toward Olivia?” I asked.
“I heard you were in quite a state when Jilk broke off the engagement,” I added.
“It’s true I was a mess,” Clarice admitted. “I was self-destructive, even keeping company with rough sorts. That much is true. You left the academy after the engagement annulment scandal, so you couldn’t know how I was back then.”
Clarice smiled at me, her expression carrying both melancholy and amusement.
It was no girlish grin but the polished smile of a refined lady.
After the duel that annulled my engagement with His Highness Julius, the academy was plunged into further turmoil.
Indeed, one could say that my duel had merely been the prelude.
Besides His Highness, four other noble heirs demanded the dissolution of their engagements, shocking not only the academy but the entire aristocracy.
For noble families, marriage is never a personal matter; it is a contract between houses, shaping political fortunes and alliances.
Even someone who would one day be hailed as a saint could not simply overturn such arrangements.
In contesting my engagement by means of a formal duel, I had at least abided by established propriety.
Stephanie Fou Offrey, the earl’s daughter betrothed to Brad, plotted with sky pirates to eliminate Olivia behind the scenes.
After her defeat, she was punished. The Offrey earldom was dismantled, its head and heir executed, and Stephanie herself disappeared—only to resurface much later, during the destruction of the Lady’s Forest.
These incidents involving Olivia left lasting scars upon the nobility of the kingdom.
“Isn’t it troubling that the prince and the noble heirs, all of them already betrothed, allowed themselves to be swayed by a commoner girl?”
“To force annulments without heed to their families or their fiancées’ houses, and without following proper procedure—was that not a betrayal of trust?”
“True, the Offrey earl’s daughter who conspired with sky pirates was guilty of crime. But the root cause lay with Brad Fou Field, who unilaterally sought to dissolve his engagement—and with Olivia, who seduced him.”
Such sentiments spread through the royal court.
If not for the protection of the Frampton marquess faction—who had ousted the Redgrave dukedom—and the timely invasion of the Fanoss Principality, Olivia’s very life might have been forfeit.
While the upper echelons of the Holfort Kingdom proved ineffectual, Olivia and her companions repelled the principality, and the fame of Olivia, the Saint of Salvation, spread swiftly throughout the land.
But that did not mean all nobles welcomed her existence, nor that the grievances had been resolved.
Military valor and political achievement are not the same.
To tell noblewomen—abandoned unilaterally by their fiancés—that they must not resent the national hero, the saint who stole them, was far too much to ask.
Clarice, in particular, had loved Jilk deeply.
She had supported her fiancé so unwaveringly that it astonished all who knew her, only to be cast aside in such a way.
It would be unreasonable to expect her not to harbor resentment.
After my own annulment with His Highness Julius, I withdrew entirely from noble gatherings and soirées, devoting myself to estate management studies, secluding myself either in the capital or the Redgrave estate.
Those efforts now serve me well in administering the Bartfort estate—though the irony is bitter.
But I heard only vague accounts from my father and brother of what befell the academy after my departure.
I had no wish to revisit that place of humiliation. And with the academy forced to close within half a year due to the Fanoss war, I had no interest whatsoever.
As for Clarice, I heard only rumors: that she consorted with delinquents, that she despaired and attempted suicide again and again.
This must be the first time in five years that I have faced Clarice directly.
“You truly no longer feel any lingering attachment to Jilk?” I asked.
“Then let me ask you,” Clarice countered. “Do you still wish to reconcile with His Highness Julius?”
“No chance,” I replied.
“Exactly,” she said. “Why was I so infatuated with that cheating fool? I’m more furious at my own lack of judgment than at him.”
It seems she truly no longer resents Jilk all that deeply.
That said, she clearly has no intent to forgive him either.
In that, I feel much the same.
Just because I am now content, blessed with husband and children, does not mean I am so saintly as to forgive His Highness Julius entirely.
I merely came to see that turning resentment into fuel for developing the Bartfort estate and raising my children was far more worthwhile.
It was Leon who changed me thus. Because Leon is my husband, I was able to change.
I am certain that had I wed another noble, such a transformation would never have taken place.
“Well, it took me quite some time to arrive at that outlook,” Clarice said.
“Same here,” I admitted. “If I hadn’t met my husband, I’d probably still be resenting His Highness.”
“What a marvelous encounter. I envy you,” Clarice said. “As for me, the saint who shattered my engagement came walking straight to my door.”
“Lady Olivia did?” I asked.
“She appeared at my estate without warning, without so much as an appointment, insisting she had come to apologize.”
A bold move indeed. The saint’s decisiveness admits no resistance. She ignores protocol and cumbersome formality, acting instead with unhesitating speed.
In war, such qualities must have served her well.
From the perspective of Fanoss commanders, a single formidable unit would suddenly plunge into the battlefield, disrupt their lines, and vanish.
Commanders fell one after another, their coordination collapsed, and while confusion reigned, the Holfort army prepared and struck back. Thus the strategy succeeded, and Olivia and her five companions were exalted as heroes.
Yet while victory was achieved, military action does not usually permit such unilateral decisions.
Cumbersome procedures exist to minimize the loss of soldiers and resources.
Even if the war is won, if the land is left in ruins and there are too few people left to rebuild, a nation cannot stand.
In like manner, requiring appointments for noble audiences is not mere formality but a safeguard—to weigh the urgency of tasks, to ensure mutual consent.
The higher the rank of a noble, the greater the perils they face.
Thus, even if Olivia bore no ill intent, it is no wonder that her actions drew disfavor among the nobility.
“At first, I wouldn’t even see her. I said, ‘What did you come here for?’ then left her standing outside the gate all day, even going so far as to douse her with cold water. Normally, anyone would have given up. But that Saintess? She absolutely never gives up.”
“Her persistence is relentless. And because she acts without malice or ulterior motives, it somehow makes it even more unbearable.”
“I heard You married into the frontier. Did she really come all the way to your estate?”
“Yes, she came to ask for my help in matters of state. Honestly, I wanted to refuse. But since the request also came from Her Highness the Consort, I had no choice.”
“I really wish she’d let me be. The way she behaves, she makes me feel like the villain for not forgiving her.”
To treat the Saintess who saved the kingdom harshly would be to invite censure from all sides.
And yet, forgiving Olivia—the one who caused her engagement to be annulled—was no simple matter.
Such reluctance was only natural.
Indeed, it must have been infuriating to be cast as the villain simply because of Olivia’s well-meaning persistence.
“But if I didn’t fall into despair, it was partly thanks to her—or perhaps because of her. Right after my engagement was broken, the war broke out and the academy was closed. Thanks to that, I was spared from having to face that useless man who had nothing going for him but his family name. Jilk never once apologized, but the Saintess kept coming to my estate whenever she had time, insisting on meeting me. When she knelt before me and said it was all her fault, that she deserved my resentment—what was I supposed to do? I wasn’t so foolish as to become another Stephanie.”
She shrugged her shoulders. Though her words mocked Olivia’s persistence, her tone carried no true resentment or bitterness.
Olivia’s repeated and heartfelt apologies to Clarice, whose engagement had been annulled, seemed to have left a genuine mark.
“Above all else, as a person—and as a woman—my heart had to acknowledge that I lost to Olivia. No matter how much I devoted myself to Jilk, everything I gave him was underpinned by my family’s power. When the Fanoss Principality’s army marched on the capital, what could I have done, even if someone had ordered me to fight and win alongside my fiancé? I could never have fought for my life the way Olivia did.”
“If you put it like that, not a single noblewoman in the kingdom could compare to the Saintess.”
“That’s precisely it. No one can match her.”
During the principality’s invasion, I had holed up in my estate, watching the turmoil from afar as though it had nothing to do with me.
Even during the second invasion, all I did was pray for Leon’s safety, manage the Bartfort territory, and safeguard its people.
If not for Olivia and her companions’ valor, we would not now be here, calmly sipping tea and conversing.
From time to time, I find myself grinding my teeth at my own helplessness.
No matter how I struggle, all I can do is watch Leon’s back as he walks toward a battlefield where death awaits.
Even if I can ease his burdens and comfort his sorrows, I am still only a frail woman, lacking both the strength and the resolve to fight beside him.
At best, I can burn a kidnapper’s ship—but I lack the skill and the will to kill.
“Recently, Jilk finally came to apologize. Apparently, one of the Saintess’s subordinates gave him a severe tongue-lashing. Pathetic, isn’t it? That he needed to be told before realizing his own mistakes.”
“Did you forgive him?”
“I heard his apology. I told him I never wanted to see his face again, and he left quietly. He still sends gifts, but I haven’t touched a single one.”
“Why do noblemen always assume that the women they abandoned must still be pining for them?”
“Utterly foolish. Just thinking about it makes my blood boil again. I should have punched him outright.”
Clarice raised her fist toward the ceiling, as though Jilk’s handsome face were floating there.
I recalled the time I struck His Highness Julius during a clandestine meeting with Lady Milaine.
For a moment, I had wondered if I had gone too far—but truthfully, it felt exhilarating.
I’d gladly strike him again if I had the chance. But since he did save my life, I will restrain myself.
“You look happy now.”
“Do I?”
“When I first heard you married that upstart Bartfort after His Highness broke your engagement, everyone in the capital thought you had sunk into despair.”
“It wasn’t despair. True, I wanted to prove those who mocked me wrong. But my husband loves me, and I’m happy. I no longer even feel the need for revenge.”
“And now the two of you are happily hunting sky pirates together?”
“…Is that the rumor circulating in the capital?”
“Only among idle court gossips. Tell me, is it true that Dorothea—the one who kept rejecting marriage proposals—is marrying into the Bartfort family?”
“It’s true. The engagement is already formalized. In just a few months, my brother-in-law and Dorothea will be wed.”
“…Does the Bartfort family possess some strange charm that draws the disgraced noble ladies of the capital?”
“Who can say? But neither Dorothea nor I could ever have imagined being married to anyone else.”
“All right, all right—I’ve heard enough of your sickeningly sweet talk. I suppose I’d best find someone to marry myself…”
Knock, knock, knock.
A firm rapping at the door interrupted us. A portly, middle-aged man stepped inside.
Earl Bernard Fia Atley.
The authority of an earl who also served as a minister would be invaluable in persuading my father.
But if I failed here, conflict between the Holfort royal family and the Redgrave ducal house would be unavoidable.
My heart quickened with tension.
“It has been a long time, Lady Angelica. Or perhaps I should address you as Viscountess Bartfort now?”
“Earl Atley, you seem well. It is my fault for letting so much time pass without calling on you properly.”
“Think nothing of it. The exploits of the Viscount and his lady wife have already reached the capital. Thank you for attending today despite your health.”
His cheerful smile and easy demeanor were those of a kindly old gentleman, the sort to put anyone at ease.
Had he been speaking with commoners, they would surely have relaxed and poured out their hearts. But this was nothing more than the Earl’s mask.
A mere genial old man could not have remained a minister at the viper’s nest of court politics for more than a decade.
That his concern for me was sincere, I did not doubt. Yet at the same time, he was calmly appraising every word, ready to turn it into material for his political arsenal.
More than a few nobles who had let down their guard before that smile had found themselves punished mere days later.
If politics was the battlefield of nobles, then Earl Atley—who had maintained his ministerial seat for so long—was a veteran among veterans.
“Clarice, leave the rest to me. Go enjoy yourself—the party isn’t over yet.”
“Yes, Father. Please return soon.”
“I will. Give my regards to everyone.”
As soon as Clarice departed into the corridor, a heavy silence filled the chamber.
His kindly, curved eyes leveled, and his gaze sharpened, piercing as though it could reach into the depths of my heart.
Most noble ladies would have faltered, even burst into tears, at such a sudden change.
That I could meet his stare without wavering was proof of my growth in these past five years.
I was no longer the naive duke’s daughter who had once brandished her title as a weapon.
“I suspected that earlier commotion was orchestrated by Her Highness the Consort and yourself, Earl.”
“We’re not nearly so clever. If we could pull off such schemes, court meetings would be resolved far more smoothly.”
He addressed me in the same familiar, playful tone he had used when I was a child.
I fought to keep myself from relaxing.
Leon had once told me that the best traps are the ones you want to fall into even knowing they’re traps.
This shift in demeanor was Earl Atley’s signature tactic. A moment’s carelessness, and I would be the one swallowed whole.
“Those girls’ families—and their husbands’ houses—will gain nothing from this merit-based reward. They achieved nothing in the last war. Though they avoided dismissal, they’ve been relegated to minor posts and cornered. That commotion earlier was likely their desperate attempt to claw something back for their families.”
“I have no intention of demanding harsh punishment.”
“I understand. But for Her Highness the Consort, this is the perfect opportunity to demonstrate the strength of the royal family. Their families have been tasked with suppressing sky pirates. Even if they refused, Her Highness would respond, ‘The Marmoria and Arclight heirs, despite being court nobles, achieved martial feats. Being a court noble or young is no excuse.’ No vassal could defy such words.”
“To exploit an unforeseen incident to such an extent…”
“Otherwise, how could one ever leave one’s homeland and govern a kingdom? If anything, I could use a little of Her Highness’s vigor myself.”
Looking closely at Earl Atley’s face once more, I noticed more white in his hair and beard than I remembered, more lines etched upon his features.
His once-robust frame now seemed just a touch diminished. Surely it was not merely my imagination. In this private setting, he could not conceal his fatigue. And I knew precisely what had driven him to this point.
“I’ve reviewed your reform proposal. You haven’t yet reported it to the Duke, have you?”
“No. It’s obvious he would oppose it.”
“To tell you the truth, I feel the same. When Her Highness proposed that plan, I honestly questioned her sanity. Had someone told me, ‘Her Highness is a spy sent by the Lepart United Kingdom,’ or ‘She has finally gone mad under the strain of her burdens,’ I might well have believed them.”
“Is it truly so extreme?”
“It’s lunacy. Do you even comprehend what you’re proposing?”
“That in the Holfort Kingdom, the very concept of nobility would one day cease to exist—that is how you read it, is it not, Earl?”
“Exactly. If this reform is enacted, the nobility will eventually vanish. Push it far enough, and even the monarchy itself will become unnecessary.”
“Impressive, Earl. That is the same conclusion I reached.”
“Then why!?”
The Earl’s voice rose sharply as he demanded an answer.
It’s precisely because you’re someone who maintains sanity and logical thinking that you can fully grasp the dangers of my reform proposal.
Lingering here for too long would arouse suspicion from those around us—and above all, the Earl is a minister of the Holfort Kingdom.
He is one of the few nobles who truly understands the dire condition of this country.
That is exactly why I can entrust him with my true intentions.
“Then let me ask you: is it possible to rebuild the Holfort Kingdom as things stand now?”
“…If we assume there’s no interference from foreign nations and that the nobles harbor no dissatisfaction.”
“I can hardly believe you genuinely think a reconstruction plan built on such wishful assumptions is feasible, Earl.”
“You give me too much credit.”
The Earl lets out a wry smile as his body sways faintly.
I can feel in him an urgency far beyond anything I’ve known in my peaceful frontier life.
For years, the Earl has surely been wrestling with the kingdom’s impending collapse.
As a man of conscience, he must have been desperately seeking a way to divert the country from the path of ruin.
Perhaps, had it not been for the Principality of Fanoss’s second invasion, that might still have been possible.
But the situation has changed so drastically before and after the war that the very foundation of the old assumptions has crumbled.
To cling to outdated reconstruction plans now would only guide the kingdom toward a slow death.
No—worse. With foreign powers already sowing unrest within our borders, one misstep could see the kingdom swallowed whole in an instant.
If we are to change this course, nothing less than a fundamental reform of the system itself is required.
“What impression do you have of Olivia, Earl?”
“What’s with that sudden question?”
“Please, answer honestly. Or perhaps, as the Earl, you already have an answer prepared.”
“…From which perspective?”
“All of them.”
“As a minister concerned with governance, the Saintess’s power is of immeasurable value. But as a noble, I view her as a dangerous threat to our standing.”
“I feel the same.”
“And as a father, I cannot bring myself to like the woman who caused my daughter’s engagement to be annulled—no matter how virtuous Lady Olivia may appear.”
His final words lighten the tension between us.
As expected, the Earl is both formidable and reliable.
“I believe we have no choice but to pursue a policy of seeking talent widely, using Saintess Olivia’s existence as justification.”
“That much, nearly everyone in the kingdom’s upper echelons already understands. The question is—who will take her in? That is the issue paralyzing the royal court at present.”
“A political marriage, to bring Olivia into either the royal family or the ducal house. Depending on how it unfolds, the very line of succession could change.”
“If it were that simple, it would be easier to resolve. But it is not so straightforward.”
The Earl plucks several sugar cubes from the bowl on the table and arranges them before us.
One cube in the center, surrounded by three others.
“The fate of this kingdom rests on the Saintess—there’s no denying it. The royal family and the ducal house are both striving to claim her. Add to that the struggles between court nobles and territorial nobles, between ancient prestigious houses and newly risen families. Even that would have been manageable. The real complication lies in the emergence of a third power.”
“And that is?”
“The Prime Minister. Ever since His Excellency Lucas—the late king’s brother, more trusted by the court nobles than His Majesty Roland himself—took up a share of governance, matters have grown tangled. Her Highness Mylene, after all, hails from the Lepart United Kingdom and has always held a weak power base within Holfort. Now there is a growing movement to place Lucas-sama, with his impeccable lineage, at the head of the court nobles. Her Highness’s influence has waned considerably. And yet, the Prime Minister insists that Her Highness is the rightful leader of both the royal family and the court faction.”
“Then surely that is not too great a problem, is it?”
“But the Prime Minister and Her Highness have clashed on numerous issues. The handling of the Saintess is the most glaring example.”
“Does the Prime Minister dislike Olivia?”
Many nobles obsessed with bloodline purity loathe the idea of commoner blood mingling with noble houses.
The older the family, the more they treat their lineage itself as their greatest achievement—I know that mindset all too well.
For the late king’s brother, who nearly took the throne himself, such prejudice would be only natural. But the Earl shakes his head.
“On the contrary—the Prime Minister treats the Saintess with utmost reverence. At times, he seems more her subordinate than her superior.”
“Then surely that should work to the royal family’s advantage if she grows close to them?”
“Exactly. Ordinarily he stands opposed to the Duke, but when it concerns the Saintess, he lends the Duke his support. It is little wonder that Her Highness finds herself cornered.”
“Is my father on poor terms with the Prime Minister?”
“You didn’t know? Well, it was before your birth, so perhaps it’s only natural. When Lucas and His Majesty Roland competed for the crown, the champion of the feudal nobles siding with the late king’s brother was none other than Lord Vince. Yet Lucas ceded the throne to his nephew and withdrew into a semi-retired life as Duke. To Lord Vince, that must have felt like betrayal.”
So that is the truth.
With such a history, it is no wonder that my engagement—as a duke’s daughter—to His Highness Julius, son of Lady Mylene from a foreign kingdom, was easy to annulled.
And for the supposedly retired late king’s brother to reemerge as Prime Minister must be a galling sight indeed.
Even when I spoke with Lady Mylene, the Prime Minister’s words were laced with cryptic undertones.
Just what manner of man is he? My curiosity stirs.
“Thanks to all this, I’ve had no rest. These past years, I’ve lost considerable weight. At my age, I should already be thinking of retirement—but Clarice’s marriage prospects remain unsettled, and it weighs heavily on me. I would dearly like to see my grandchildren before long.”
“You’re far too modest. Without your service, the kingdom would have collapsed into chaos.”
Politics always has its shadowy corners.
For nobles, the highest priority is preserving their bloodline—even if it means ruthless choices.
To secure a future for their children and grandchildren, they will sometimes destroy another’s.
Even I am prepared to betray the ducal house I was born into, if it means protecting my husband and children by forging ties with the royal family.
In such a world, Earl Atley—who exhausts himself for both his own house and the future of the kingdom—truly stands as an admirable man, both as a servant of state and as a private individual.
“Oh, and while we’re speaking of Lady Olivia, you should be careful as well. Viscount Bartfort has achieved unprecedented success for a kingdom noble. His victories in war and skill in managing his domain are remarkable. But such accomplishments will stir intense envy and resentment all around you.”
“Thank you for the warning.”
“By the way—does Viscount Bartfort have any intention of taking a concubine?”
“…Excuse me?”
“Clarice grows restless, with her marriage prospects still unsettled. I thought the Viscount, a rising star, might suit her well. Naturally, you would remain his primary wife; Clarice would be content as his concubine.”
What in the world is this man saying?
Moments ago, I held him in the highest regard—but now, that admiration has evaporated entirely.
Unfortunately for him, I have no intention of ever allowing Leon to take a concubine.
I might jest about such things in our private chambers, but in truth, I would do everything within my power to prevent it.
“Your kind offer is appreciated, but my husband is far too unrefined to meet your discerning standards, Earl. I truly hope Clarice finds a worthy match.”
“I-I see. That is most unfortunate.”
The Earl murmurs faintly, giving up the point.
It is certainly not because he was cowed by the pressure I exuded.
“Actually, when Lord Bartfort was first ennobled after the war, I had considered a proposal for him.”
“With Clarice?”
“Yes. But Lord Vince strongly opposed the idea of Bartfort forming ties with high-ranking houses. And so, I abandoned the prospect of an engagement between Clarice and him. I’ve since heard the marriage proposals he received afterward were dreadful.”
What…?
This is the first I’ve heard of my father interfering in Leon’s marriage prospects.
I had already sensed his displeasure with my own engagement to Leon.
But now—an indescribable unease creeps over me.
What exactly is going on between Leon and Olivia?
Perplexed by this new mystery, I reached into my party bag and drew out the documents I had prepared to persuade Earl Atley.
┳━━━━━━━━━━┳
Authors Note
┻━━━━━━━━━━┻
Clarice’s Long-Awaited Chapter
In this version, the events following Angelica’s annulled engagement remain the same. However, since the academy was closed during the Principality of Fanoss’s invasion, Clarice has not led such a reckless life. She only appears calm because she is free from love—once she falls for someone, she will likely return to being a heavy, intense woman. (Sweat)
In the original story, she became King Leon’s concubine, but here, their connection is far more tenuous.
From the next chapter, the narrative will shift back to Leon’s perspective.
Addendum: At the client’s request, illustrations were provided by mons, Monokuroman, and Yamada Oronari. Thank you very much.
mons: Skeb
Monokuroman: Skeb
Yamada Otonari: Skeb
To commemorate the completion of the original work, I also created several MobuSeka jigsaw puzzles. They range from 100 to 140 pieces, so I hope you’ll enjoy them in your spare time. Personally, puzzles help me calm down when I’m stuck on writing—though admittedly, they’re also a form of escape from reality. (Sweat)
Puzzcore 7
Any thoughts or feedback would be greatly appreciated—it would help motivate me for what lies ahead.