Arc-6 Ch-36

After the series of incidents in which the head of the family and the heir were safely rescued, the servants of the Redgrave ducal mansion began repairing the estate. The gardeners and the male servants checked the damage done to the interior and the garden and performed simple repairs, while the maids and the female servants were in charge of cleaning and treating the injured. Perhaps it was a blessing amidst misfortune that not a single guard who went to eliminate the ruffians died or was even seriously injured. If anything, the fact that the enemy held back and ended up imprisoning the head of the family and the heir only deepened their sense of humiliation.

Even so, their work was far simpler than that of the senior servants and the butler who were running around to settle the situation. A completely unprecedented incident had occurred in the residential district of the upper nobility close to the royal castle—at the Redgrave ducal house, the foremost of all feudal nobles. Inquiries of “What has happened?” poured in endlessly from neighboring nobles.

Some nobles, convinced that a civil war had finally broken out between the royal faction and the ducal faction, shut themselves inside their mansions, and some even rushed in panic to the airport. They could not tell all of them the details of the turmoil. For a ducal house—the pinnacle of nobility beneath the royal family—to be toyed with by a lower-ranking viscount was nothing but humiliation. They offered vague explanations to visiting nobles, and sooner or later, some sort of official announcement would quietly be made by the royal family or the ducal house.

The servants repairing the garden each turned their eyes toward the sun sinking at the horizon. What they recalled was the face of the young noble who had just left the ducal residence.

Leon Fou Bartfort, Viscount.

A man born as the second son of a baron family—lowest of the nobles—who could not inherit the family estate and had not even received the minimum education a noble should have had. A self-made man who had risen only because of his achievements in war, a newly-emerged noble assigned to the duke’s daughter whose marriage prospects had decreased because her engagement with the prince was annulled. Everyone serving the ducal house had sincerely believed that, and looked down on him. In fact, when Viscount Bartfort visited the ducal mansion, his awkward behavior in his ill-fitting ceremonial attire and his overly humble demeanor could hardly have been an act.

Even at today’s visit, the star was Angelica who had returned home, and the viscount was merely an accessory. Most who worked in the ducal mansion were born into noble families or had served the house for generations. Their loyalty to the Redgrave family was deep, and consequently, their contempt for lower nobles was naturally strong. It was the incurable hereditary disease of the nobility: judging others by family rank, size of territory, assets, the length of family history, and dismissing the person’s actual ability. Had they truly revered their lord and adored the young lady, they should have noticed. They should have realized what it meant for the daughter of the duke to marry a man who was supposedly nothing more than a rough, violence-prone brute.

The result of looking down on him because of prejudice was this disgrace. If they did not think so—if they did not convince themselves so—they could not process the emotions stagnating in their hearts. If Viscount Bartfort were to visit the ducal mansion again, then next time they would welcome him politely, as a man worthy of forming friendship with the ducal house. Thinking vaguely about such things, the servants resumed their tasks.

※　※　※　※　※

Walking down the cramped, uncomfortable corridor of the airship, a faint grating metallic sound echoed. His Highness Julius and I remained silent the whole time; a viscount like me was far too low-ranked to speak first to a prince. It would be disrespectful. More than anything, the cut inside my mouth hurt unbearably. Saliva mixed with the taste of blood pooled in my mouth and felt awful. I really wanted to spit it out, but I couldn’t do that in front of a prince. When we reached our destination, I turned the doorknob and opened it. The airship’s door, made of metal and wood, was incredibly heavy and hard to open.

“Oh, you’re back…” “Whoa…” “……What happened to you?” “Are you alright?” “…………”

As soon as the four of them saw my face, they each said something. Don’t talk to me. Right now I just want to be alone.

“Please sit there, Lord Bartfort!”

Following Marie, who rushed over and gave instructions, I sat on a nearby chair, and her small hand touched my face. Her palm felt hard and thick-skinned, unlike her young appearance. This wasn’t the palm of a noble lady who never carried anything heavy—this was the palm of someone who did physical labor. I didn’t know the details, but Marie was apparently a proper noble lady once. Just how harsh must her life have been for an aristocratic young lady to end up with such calloused hands?

The sensation was so different from Angie’s palm that it made me remember Angie, and it hurt.

“Do you understand what your face looks like right now?”

“When I look in a mirror I want to smash it, so I don’t look much.”

“Please answer properly.”

But it was true. Ever since I got that facial scar during the war, I stopped looking at mirrors. Angie tells me not to worry about it, but having an ugly face means seeing myself in a mirror only irritates me. When she touched the heated parts of my face, pain shot through them and I felt like crying.

“That hurts.”

“Please endure it. …Judging by appearance, there is no abnormality with your eyes or nose, and no teeth are broken.”

“She probably held back.”

“What terrifying person drove you this far?”

“I don’t want to say.”

 “It was Angelica. She punched Bartfort.”

“Your Highness, please don’t reveal that so casually.”

What a talkative prince. This whole mess is because you guys had that dispute with the ducal house in the first place. If the royal family had handled things properly, I wouldn’t have gotten beaten up by Angie. Well, if the royal family had no problems at all, Angie wouldn’t have become my wife in the first place.

“Please stay still. I will heal you now.”

Marie murmured that, and her palms began to glow faintly as she pressed them against my face. The glowing palms didn’t feel hot—just a little warmer than body temperature, like bathwater. After her palm stayed on a swollen area for several dozen seconds, the heat gradually faded and the pain eased. Once the pain disappeared she moved to another spot, repeating the process, and by the time all the pain was gone from my face, a considerable amount of time had passed.

“It’s done. Considering the swelling, your wounds were shallow. That’s a relief.”

“So that was healing magic.”

"Yes. Thanks to this, Lady Olivia allows me to stay by her side.”

“Compared to Olivia, her power is weaker and it takes longer.”

“She wouldn’t take even a hundred seconds to heal Bartfort.”

 “Boys, be quiet. Comparing me with Lady Olivia is inappropriate and insolent.”

I moved my facial muscles to check that everything had really healed. Even the cut inside my mouth healed—an incredible power. The Holy Maiden surpasses even Marie, and that’s less “respectable” and more “terrifying.”

Truly, the Holy Maiden and her companions are absurdly powerful. No matter how much I train, I never leave the realm of the ordinary. The place they stand is far too distant.

“Where is Lady Angelica?”

 “………………” 

“She stayed at the ducal house. We’re going to retreat to the royal capital’s airport for now. You four come with me to the royal castle. Marie, return to the temple.”

 “Don’t give orders on your own, Your Highness.”

 “You’re so spineless right now. A commander must take responsibility until the end.”

Say whatever you want. My chest hasn’t stopped hurting since Angie got angry with me. Healing magic can cure the body, but not the wounds of the heart.

“What happened?”

Aside from His Highness, the five of them were waiting for my answer. Why should I have to tell these guys about a husband-and-wife quarrel?

But it would be even worse if the prince explained it in some amusing way. I sighed and sat up again. What a terrible day.

※　※　※　※　※

“I am not going back. I will remain in the ducal mansion.”

Right after we freed the duke and Gilbert from the reception room, Angie’s curt words pierced my heart. The people of the ducal house looked at us nervously, but they didn’t seem to have the courage to intrude on the conversation. Angie was at the peak of her anger now—at this rate, she might start verbally abusing anyone who entered her sight. Since we married, I had never seen her this angry. I tried desperately to pull some countermeasure out of my mind, but no good idea emerged. Right now, her cold rejection hurt far, far more than the pain in my face.

The pain was too much.

“…I want you to come home with me.”

"The ducal house needs manpower to deal with a certain someone’s mess. Is there any problem with a daughter rushing home to aid her family’s crisis?”

“…I’m sorry.”

 “For what are you apologizing, and to whom? Please explain in detail, Lord Bartfort.”

Angelica didn’t even call my name. Being spoken to in that polite yet scornful tone made the strength drain from my legs. It was different from our usual marital quarrels. A sense of crisis kept building unbearably, but all I could do for Angie right now was apologize.

“For now I’ll pull back today, and come again tomorrow.”

“Is it acceptable for you not to return to your territory?”

“If you come with me I’ll go back. Until you return with me, I’m not going back to the Bartfort territory.”

“Please stop uttering such frivolous things again.”

“I’m serious. I’m staying in the royal capital until your mood gets better.”

“Even without me, there should be no hindrance to governing the Bartfort territory.”

“I’m not evaluating you based on ability alone.”

“Oh? Here I thought you found me unreliable with all my shortcomings, and so you secretly acted together with the others without telling me.”

“…………”

It seemed Angie was quite offended that I acted with His Highness and the others without telling her. As a former candidate for the next queen, Angie has a certain level of pride, and if you don’t praise her she sulks right away. It’s troublesome, but also one of her cute qualities. However, this situation was way too bad.

Matters like cleaning up after the incident at the ducal residence, or negotiations between the royal faction and the ducal faction, would never go smoothly without Ange.

More than anything, I didn’t think I could endure the glare she was stabbing me with.

“We’re heading to the airport in the capital. Contact me if anything happens.”

“Understood. Though I cannot trouble the illustrious Bartfort Lord. Therefore, unless something truly grave occurs, I shall refrain from contacting you.”

She casually drove the final blow in. Scary—my wife is super scary. With no choice, and unable to take Angie back with me, I left the ducal residence. The looks the people of the ducal household threw at me were nothing compared to Angie’s gaze filled with anger that gouged at my heart far worse. She looked exactly like Angie when we first met. It felt like all the bonds we’d built over the past few years had been completely denied, and I felt like hanging myself. With my face still hurting, I left the mansion supported by His Highness Julius and boarded the airship that had landed. Reconciling after a marital quarrel was far more challenging than dealing with a civil war in the kingdom.

※　※　※　※　※

“What a hopeless case.”

“That was fast!”

In the end, it had been a mistake to consult these guys. They’d lost interest halfway through, and no matter how desperately I appealed, they treated it like bragging about my wife. I helped them out during the kidnapping incident, but…They were useless when it mattered most.

“Talking to these people is pointless.”

Marie, on the other hand, was quite eager to listen to my story. This saint’s personal maid is oddly worldly. Is it really okay to depend on these people, Lady Olivia?

“To begin with, these are the same people who one-sidedly pined after Lady Olivia and ended up neglecting their own fiancées. You mustn’t expect them to understand a woman’s heart.”

At Marie’s merciless words, everyone averted their eyes in embarrassment. Don’t say it too much… Lady Olivia really is a good woman.

If a girl like that had been close to you in school, it’s understandable you might lose your way. 

…Remembering how I couldn’t even attend the academy and only received military training during my youth makes me feel empty, and I almost start crying.

“I’ll speak to my mother and father too. I owe Angie an apology, and I’d sleep badly if the kingdom lost you two to a divorce.”

“I think that would have the opposite effect.”

“They might think it’s political intervention and earn the duke’s displeasure.”

“For now, just apologize. Over and over until she takes you back.”

“Wouldn’t giving her something be better?”

Say whatever you want, you lot—are these really the heroes who saved the kingdom? They’re just slightly better-raised brats, and their advice is hardly reliable.

“See? Just as I said.”

“Sorry, Marie. You’re the only one I can rely on.”

“For Lady Angelica, I believe showing it through actions rather than gifts would be best. Lord Bartfort should convey just how much you love her.”

“I do that every day.”

“Then do it more.”

“…By the way, what’s your dating history?”

“I refuse to answer a question lacking consideration toward a virgin.”

“No one is any help!”

I’m done. I want to cry. But if Angie doesn’t come home, I’m in trouble. Not just for managing the territory or raising children—if Angie isn’t by my side, my heart dies. Anyway, I’ll go to the ducal residence and prostrate myself. That’s the only idea I have left. I should’ve just dragged her home by force. I hate myself for chickening out at the crucial moment.

※　※　※　※　※

Even after sunset, the ducal residence was still bustling with servants hard at work. After all, due to the scheme of a lower noble, the head of the house and the heir had been temporarily detained—this was a major incident that left the Redgrave family’s honor in tatters. The Redgrave house receives many visitors, so they needed to fix their outward appearance as quickly as possible. As a result, it was a pleasant surprise that circumstances had created an opportunity convenient for us to continue our discussion in another location.

Only Father, my older brother, and I were in the lord’s office. The matter we were about to discuss was not something we could talk about in the presence of Cordelia or the head butler.

“The Bartfort brat made complete fools of us. We will pay dearly for this.”

The moment we took our seats, Father threw out words that were practically a threat. Once, back when I lived under the protection of the ducal house, that pressure would’ve made me tremble. In the years since I married into the Bartfort household, I haven’t just been indulging in a life of ease. Court nobles and major lords who live in the capital see the frontier as an uncivilized backwater, and they tend to look down on the rough and unsophisticated people living there, believing the kingdom’s authority doesn’t reach that far.

To Father and my brother, it may have seemed like I was living a carefree and peaceful life in the remote region. But the days I experienced in the Bartfort territory were not that easy. Indeed, the frontier is beyond the full reach of the royal house and the ducal house. Many nobles living there are descendants of small countries that once resisted the might of the Holfort Kingdom and were forced into vassalage. To frontier nobles carrying such frustrations, a Redgrave daughter who married into a family in a land beyond the duchy’s full influence was an ideal target.

To nobles in the capital and nobles in the frontier alike, I was a loser—and before Leon and I solidified our position, we had endured significant hardships. On top of that, last year I was kidnapped by Zora and the others who bore a grudge toward Leon, nearly losing my life. If a young woman spends several years in the frontier surrounded by enemies, enduring hardships and repeatedly facing life-and-death struggles, she will naturally develop some degree of nerve.

“Do you desire my life? If so, it would be best to get it done quickly.”

“Don’t be reckless. Your father has no reason to want your life.”

“You provoked Leon without proper resolve, that’s why it turned out this way. If I hadn’t stayed behind, the ones in danger would have been you.”

“I doubt Lord Bartfort is so foolish.”

“It is a mistake to treat him as an ordinary noble. Have you already forgotten?”

“You speak as if you consider your own position above ours.”

“In reality, that’s exactly how it is. Had I not taken the initiative to remain in the ducal residence, the ones in danger would be you. When I was attacked by sky pirates, the people of the Bartfort household immediately launched into retaliation. They are indeed unfamiliar with court regulations, but precisely because of that, they are still primal nobles whose fangs the kingdom has not yet pulled.”

The Holfort Kingdom once suffered repeated desertions by feudal lords; even the Fanoss Principality became a rival nation because its grand duke rebelled. As a deterrent against such nobles, the kingdom enacted the matriarchal policy over lower nobles and established the Royal Academy. Leon was born a lower noble in the frontier, received no formal education as a noble, and was knighted without ever attending the academy. Loyalty to the crown or unspoken rules among nobles mean nothing to him.

“Above all, he is a descendant of Leah Bartfort. Are you telling him to uphold the regulations set by a royal family he is meant to indict?”

“…Who told you that?”

“I heard it from Chancellor Lucas. Though the information His Excellency possesses regarding the royal family is not complete.”

“That infuriating man. He lacks the guts to sit on the throne, yet he’s the first to interfere when we make a move. Perhaps we should have crushed the chancellor first instead of that foolish king.”

“So it is true then.”

“Yes. The Redgrave family is a branch of the Holfort royal family. Therefore, though incomplete, we inherit a degree of information regarding the shadows that the royal family bears.”

“Did you marry me to Leon because he is a Bartfort descendant?”

“There would be no reason to marry off my precious daughter to an upstart viscount with no justification.”

“And why did you not share this information with me?”

"That was merely because me and your brother conveyed what we had heard second-hand. Moreover, there is no way we could reveal our secrets to a daughter who was to marry into another house. I never imagined you would choose that man over the Redgrave family."

"That judgment is the greatest mistake you made, Father. If you were going to marry me off, you should have disclosed the information."

"So you think it was all a mistake from the start."

"If you had frankly told me that your goal was the Bartfort bloodline, or that you wished to bring Leon into your fold, I would have worked as your pawn. But you concealed that information and married me off, and that secrecy bred suspicion and brought about Leon's and my rebellion."

When I first met Leon, the wounds he had received on the battlefield had not yet healed. It should have been easy to make him a puppet and seize the Bartfort territory, or to bear his child and thereby obtain justification to denounce the royal family by taking in the bloodline of the true king. Political marriages are originally such things; it is not rare for a young lady to be ordered by her family to marry into another house and act in a manner akin to espionage.

"You are a capable daughter. I believed you would fulfill your duties even without being told anything, but it seems I greatly overestimated you."

"It was your half-hearted affection that caused the problem. Did you not expect that I might lean to his side?"

"I cannot understand it. I cannot understand it at all."

"Then why are you so devoted to him?"

Even if asked why, I had no answer. After all, I myself did not fully understand what part of Leon I had fallen for. I simply had no intention of divorcing him, nor of being with any man other than him.

"I do not know very well. However, I am certain that no woman understands Leon better than I do."

"So my lifelong ambition was defeated by mere romantic feelings. What a ridiculous tale. Even an amateur playwright would write a better script."

"But Father, are you truly intent on reconciling with the royal family?"

"There is no helping it. At the very least, it is certainly a terrible time to oppose the royal family. The royal fleet was a shield that protected not only the Holfort royal house but the entire nation. Now that it is gone, we cannot allow other countries any opening to exploit."

"…Was the airship he showed us real?"

"Who can say."

The three of us turned our eyes to the photographs brought from the reception room. Every airship’s hull showed great damage; they looked like decayed remnants. It was impossible to predict how many years—or even hundreds or thousands of years—would be needed to repair airships that had been so mercilessly eroded by time.

"Is today the first time you have seen this?"

"…I am ashamed to admit it, but yes."

"Lord Bartfort may indeed have discovered a place where Lost Items slumber. But unfortunately, all of the airships appear to be useless wrecks. That is the natural conclusion."

"If he were an ordinary noble, that conclusion would be fine."

"You think he is hiding a trump card?"

"Even looking at these photos, there is a ninety percent chance his claim of possessing a functioning Lost Item is a lie."

"Then our policy should be to ignore him."

"But the remaining ten percent may be the truth. And that man is Leon Fou Bartfort; no one can predict what he might do."

I understood Father’s and Brother’s feelings well. Leon bewildered people with actions beyond their expectations and exploited gaps in their defenses. Thus he was praised as a hero and reviled as a villainous knight. It was better to remain watchful rather than act carelessly and suffer a painful counterattack.

"Angie, are you willing to work for the Redgrave family once more?"

"If you reduce the repayment of the funds you lent us."

"You never miss a chance. But that is a cheap price. Keep watch on Lord Bartfort; if he attempts to act, inform us immediately."

"I refuse. If he truly desires the throne, I do not intend to stop him. Besides, both of you misunderstand Leon’s character."

"In what way are we mistaken?"

"He never antagonizes anyone unless they invade his territory. If left alone, he prefers to live peacefully within his own domain. If he were an ambitious man, he would already be trying to gain Father’s favor."

"Not a mad dog that cannot be tamed, but a literal lion, is that it."

Brother’s metaphor may indeed be accurate. Normally, a male lion leaves the management of the pride to the lionesses and spends his time leisurely. But when an external enemy threatens the pride, or when another male appears to take over, he fights fiercely as the leader. Somehow Leon’s image transformed into that of a wild animal, and I could not help but smile.

"My lifelong ambition has been crushed. It seems I will not see the Redgrave bloodline crowned during my lifetime."

"…I am truly sorry."

"If you are going to apologize, then do not obstruct your father’s path. If you do not hold your head high, it makes my defeat all the more pitiful."

Father’s voice trembled faintly. He had taken up the intention of rebellion for the sake of the kingdom, only to be stopped by his daughter. Although he would no longer be branded a traitor, no one knew whether my choice was the correct one for the kingdom’s future. I might even go down in history as an evil woman who, consumed by love for her husband and child, prolonged a dying dynasty with pointless life support. I was apparently not heartless enough to take pleasure in watching my father sink into despair.

"I am sorry, Gilbert. It seems I am unable to place you upon the throne."

"Your feelings alone are more than enough, Father."

"Angie, you may come to regret this one day. Had you not stopped me, your own child might have become king."

"Then you should have told Leon and me the truth, Father."

"…What?"

"Instead of secretly attempting to take in the Bartfort blood to secure legitimacy, if you had raised the descendant of Leah Bartfort, then with the story of Olivia, the descendant of the first Saint Anne, it would also have served as a check on the Temple. Trying to snatch the throne in the confusion with such a lowly scheme is why you failed."

"You believe Lord Bartfort is suited to be king?"

"If Leon truly desires the throne, I am prepared to devote everything of myself to him."

"Good grief. It seems my daughter is a woman who lives for love."

I had no regrets. Only after meeting Leon was I finally able to walk through life by my own will. My wish was to live out my life beside him. I glanced down at my palm. The skin scraped when I struck him still hurt. Perhaps I had gone too far?

No, occasionally it was a good lesson. I cannot stand being kept in the dark more than anything. Hurry up and apologize to me and drag me back to the Bartfort domain if you must. When I recalled Leon’s face, affection welled up alongside anger, and I struggled to keep my emotions under control.

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Authors Note

┻━⁠━━━━⁠━━⁠━━━⁠┻

Cleanup at the ducal residence.

The flag for Leon becoming king in this story has been broken, but things are far from settled.

The conversation in the ducal household is an homage to volume 12 of the original work.

Even if one’s ancestor was the true founding king, it is unreasonable for the descendants to become kings themselves.

Angie does not truly wish to make Leon king; she aims only to extinguish Vince’s rebellious intent.

Leon knows almost nothing about his own ancestors, so he did not realize that his talk of becoming king shocked the duke.

Postscript: At the request of the client, this chapter’s illustrations were drawn by Mugio and Spahpanzer. Thank you very much.

Mugio: Skeb

Spahpanzer: Pixiv

I would be grateful for your thoughts and impressions; they will serve as encouragement for future work.