Arc-4 Ch-17

I’m exhausted. Truly exhausted. As the adrenaline fades, fatigue crashes over me. Checking the clock, it’s been less than a day since the kidnapping. In that single day, I’ve endured abduction, sabotage, combat, and evacuation.

I managed a brief nap, but the physical and mental toll has piled up. After arriving at the Bartfort family’s airship, I showered, changed, and saw a doctor. My injury—just a slightly swollen cheek from a punch—only needed some ointment.

Dorothea’s unscathed, but Finley has a bruise from a sword sheath, and Jenna’s face is swollen from repeated blows. The doctor says their injuries will heal cleanly in a few days. Hunger hits after treatment. Eating preserved food and soup in the ship’s lounge finally makes it sink in: we’re saved.

I honestly didn’t expect to return unharmed. The overwhelming joy of surviving—nearly unscathed due to countless strokes of luck—makes my body tremble. I want to hurry back to Bartfort territory, but there’s no rushing. Post-battle cleanup remains, and we must check on the injured soldiers.

I want to eat quickly, but I can’t risk indigestion—I’m pregnant, and my baby’s safety comes first. Swallowing warm soup and finishing tough bread leaves me wanting more. After eating for two, I take a brief walk around the ship. Thanking the doctors and soldiers, I head to the bridge.

I need to see Leon and ease his mind. I’m often hard on him, but today I’ll be extra gentle. I’ll pamper him and do anything he wants. Oh no, my face is loosening into a grin. Suppressing the urge to run, I open the bridge door and approach the captain’s chair.

“Is something wrong, Angelica-san?”

It’s Colin in the captain’s seat. Looking around, neither Leon, Father-in-law, nor Nicks are here. I thought the rest of the Bartfort family would be present.

“I’m just checking in after settling down. Where are Leon and the others?”

“They left me in charge and are resting. Father’s with the girls, and Nicks is dodging Dorothea.”

“And Leon?”

“Probably in the captain’s cabin.”

“Got it.”

I want to rush to the captain’s cabin, but gratitude comes first. Heading to my husband without thanking everyone would be discourteous.

“Thank you. You all went through a lot for us.”

I bow formally. Our safe return is thanks to their efforts—no amount of gratitude is enough.

“I didn’t do much. Father and the others were the impressive ones,” Colin says.

“Still, commanding a ship in your first battle isn’t something most could do.”

“Thanks to them. I just kept the ship from sinking.”

He points to a kingdom airship towing one pirate ship and aiming cannons at another. The ship we were held on seems to have contained the fire. The kingdom’s show of force to prevent pirate escapes is fitting for heroes. As someone whose engagement they helped break, being saved by them leaves me conflicted. Turning from the unwelcome sight, I head for the door.

“I’m going to Leon.”

“Take care.”

A few dozen steps from the door, I reach the captain’s cabin. It has a small desk, bed, simple closet, and bookshelf—the ship’s most comfortable room, aside from guest quarters. Spending time with Leon here until we reach Bartfort territory doesn’t sound bad.

Hiding a smirk, I knock on the door. No answer. I knock again—still nothing. Turning the knob, it’s unlocked and opens easily. A bit stunned by the carelessness, I enter a dark room. Groping for the light, I turn it on and survey the cabin. Military clothes, boots, and guns are scattered on the floor, making it hard to walk.

The room’s occupant is curled up on the bed under a blanket, unmoving—asleep or awake, I can’t tell. With no choice, I start picking up the mess. The clothes and boots are stained with fresh black marks—likely blood. Checking the guns, their safeties are on, and they’re unloaded. Is he diligent or lazy? My husband’s logic is a mystery.

Sitting on the bed, I stroke Leon’s curled-up form, and he stirs. His cat-like refusal to be petted makes me chuckle. I keep stroking, and he trembles each time, which is amusing, so I continue. Finally giving up, he throws off the blanket and glares at me, annoyed.

“What?”

“Checkup’s done. I’m fine, and the others have minor injuries.”

“Good.”

“And here’s a reward for my hardworking husband.”

“Don’t need it. Leave me alone.”

His curt, dismissive attitude irks me. Does he know how I felt this past day? I believed he’d come, but I didn’t expect to survive. I braced for someone’s death, prepared to be violated by the pirates or to kill myself if I became a burden. I never imagined His Highness and the others would show up, but it was a necessary call for a swift resolution. Given Zora’s group’s nature, the longer it dragged on, the slimmer our chances of survival.

Asking the Holfort royal family—rivals of my Redgrave house—for help might cost us later, but that’s a future problem. Right now, I just want to bask in the joy of reunion. To borrow Leon’s words, I want to get lovey-dovey with my husband. Yet my beloved husband is being cold. Normally, he clings to me despite his grumbling, but today he won’t even look at me—infuriating.

This wasn’t just a political or diplomatic blunder; it was a crime. I knew such people existed before the Fanoss war, but I never thought Zora’s family was part of an illegal noblewomen’s organization.

Learning they nearly made young Leon a commodity in their dark dealings fills me with revulsion and rage.

If the rescue had been delayed, we might’ve been victims too. That thought amplifies my relief at reuniting. Above all, Leon coming to save me was gallant and dashing—I’ve fallen for him again. His loving words over the communicator, even if strategic, felt sincere, making me want to forgive him.

If this were our bedroom, I’d drag him to bed myself. But Leon’s utterly deflated, unlike me. His attitude is bold and rude, treating me like a nuisance, dousing my burning passion. Still, he only acts this way when he’s down. Normally, he complains but seeks my help; when he fails at serious work, he shuts himself away.

Years of marriage have taught me how to handle this. The best approach is relentless kindness and comfort.

“Come on, act properly.”

“…”

“Not sleeping? When did you last eat?”

“Barely slept since you were taken. Just ate some rations.”

“That won’t do. I’ll get something.”

“No, I don’t want anything.”

I keep talking as he lies back down, needing him to vent and feel at ease. I must clear the anxiety and regret pooling in his heart, soothing him. This is something only I can do—not the Bartfort family or our kids—his vulnerable side he shows only to me. The mix of exhaustion from coddling a difficult child and the thrill of seeing what I shouldn’t is addicting.

“If it’s tough, let it out. It’ll help.”

“Why’s the guy who saved you getting comfortate by the one who got saved? Shouldn’t it be the other way?”

“A reward for my hardworking husband. Indulge.”

Poking his cheek, he finally looks at me properly.

“…I killed again.”

“I see.”

“Almost killed Rutart. Zora’s definitely dead from the explosion.”

“You’d have to be superhuman to survive that.”

“They were awful. I hated them so much I lost count of how many times I wanted to kill them. But when it came down to it, I hesitated.”

“No one would call it a crime.”

“There’s a wall between wanting to kill and trying to. I pushed Zora’s death onto Father.”

“He won’t mind, will he?”

“She was his wife. He’s known her longer than me.”

Leon sighs wearily. His strength is not hating even those he despises; his weakness is agonizing over it. I don’t blame him—selfishly, I want to monopolize this kindness.

“Today’s strategy was full of flaws. I prepared, but it was nearly improvised. Not a plan for a family held hostage.”

“You always say battlefields change constantly with countless variables. Be glad it worked out.”

“That’s only because His Highness and the others happened to visit. Our forces alone wouldn’t have cut it.”

That’s eating at him too. No, that seems to be the core issue for him.

“If Zora’s group had attacked Bartfort territory directly, we’d have been helpless. The kingdom wouldn’t recognize them as rulers—just bandits to crush.”

“True. Even in the frontier, attacking a noble’s land would draw neighboring lords and the kingdom.”

“If they’d aimed to reclaim nobility and attacked during our post-Fanoss war shortages, we’d have lost. If they’d focused on escaping or ignored my obvious taunts, one careful move could’ve made things worse.”

“Exploiting enemy mistakes is valid tactics, right?”

“Hoping the enemy acts like idiots is the worst kind of strategy.”

Indeed, if Zora’s group had stuck to piracy, our losses would’ve been greater. Attacking civilian ships would’ve hurt Bartfort’s reputation, reduced tourism, and disrupted trade. It’s an effective harassment tactic. But even if they’d seized control from Leon, it’s doubtful Zora’s group could restore the territory’s standing.

“It’s only because His Highness and the others were so strong that our losses were minimal. No matter how I struggle, I can’t handle ten times our numbers. What are those guys? They shatter tactics and strategy with raw individual power. It’s ridiculous,” Leon grumbles, his voice laced with irritation.

It seems his biggest frustration is that the four who joined the fight outshone the Bartfort family’s forces. It’s understandable. Those five, including Prince Julius, have been prodigies since their academy days. No one their age could compare, and even the duel proxies I arranged during the engagement annulment were swept aside. Their recklessness and arrogance once mismatched their strength, but with experience, they’ve matured into heroes worthy of praise. For me, knowing them as mischievous kids, it’s like, “Those brats grew up.” But to Leon, who didn’t know them then, they’re the “heroes who protected the Holfort Kingdom with the Saintess.”

I’ve never wished for Leon to become a hero like them. I want him to manage our territory, raise our children, and grow old with me in Bartfort. For Leon, Zora’s actions, which sparked this incident, feel like his own failure, and needing others’ help to resolve it gnaws at him.

“We hostages were saved. Be happy about it,” I say.

“No way. It’s pathetic to rely on other guys to save the woman I love,” he retorts.

“I don’t mind.”

“I do. Fighting dirty and low-key while they shine heroically? It’s humiliating.”

Come to think of it, Leon’s been conscious of my former fiancé, Prince Julius. Whenever a “better” man appears, he worries I’ll be drawn to them. Such adorable, petty jealousy. I can’t help but smile. Leon, sulking and turning away, is so endearing. Taking his hands and pressing them to my cheeks, the cool touch against my flushed skin feels soothing.

“Did you want to look cool in front of me that badly?” I tease.

“Is that wrong?” he snaps.

“Relax. You’re my hero.”

“The world calls me the rogue knight.”

“Let them talk. I’m the only one who needs to know your worth.”

“I don’t want you or the kids catching flak because of me.”

“Ambition’s good, but don’t overdo it. That’d trouble me.”

He’s so cute—adorably so. I can’t resist kissing him. If the Bartfort family or knights weren’t on board, I might’ve pinned him down. Should I tempt him? If he wants me, I’m game.

“Here’s your reward. Want to touch my chest?” I offer.

“I’ll pass.”

“Then hold me?”

“Not in the mood.”

His listless response makes me feel like a shameless woman. Some get frisky post-battle, but Leon’s not one of them. Fine, I’ll back off and behave. Shifting, I lay him down, resting his head on my lap. As I gently stroke his head, his eyelids droop.

“Sorry, Angie. I’ll sleep a bit,” he mumbles.

“No problem. Rest until we reach Bartfort.”

Before I finish, his breathing turns steady and calm. Curled up, he looks more like a cat than a person. A hero needier than our kids. But it doesn’t feel bad—being this loved, I’d forgive almost anything. After enjoying the stroking, sleepiness hits me. I pull the blanket over us, cling to Leon, and savor the joy of sharing a bed until we arrive.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

Post-battle cleanup is the worst. The higher your rank, the more tedious courtesies and unspoken customs pile up. I miss being a grunt on the battlefield—sure, death was closer, but I didn’t deal with annoying reports. All I had to do was focus on winning, not factions or accolades. Noble-led armies obsess over those, wasting time. At least let me enjoy the night after a victory. Thinking this, I walk the mansion’s corridors as night deepens.

The incident’s officially a simple pirate hunt. For the kingdom, admitting a missed organization attacked nobles hurts credibility, and Zora’s group being the masterminds taints Bartfort’s image. After talks with Prince Julius, we settled on: “Pirates attacked a Bartfort-bound airship; Viscount Bartfort defeated them to save his family.” Zora’s actions are buried, their names erased from history. Now, endless reports and adjustments await. Merce, Rutart, and other ringleaders face interrogation and punishment; pirates get prison or forced labor. The captured airship can’t go to the capital, so after the kingdom takes what it needs, Bartfort can do as we please. His Highness and his group will stay a few days before returning to the capital, and we’re stuck handling their visit.

Back in Bartfort, everyone welcomed us joyfully. Earl Roseblade took over territory defense after Julius pursued us. I’m not sure if Deidere persuaded him or Dorothea exaggerated, but he’s eager to marry her to Nicks. Mother worried about Jenna and Finley’s injuries but was relieved they’re alive. My kids clung to Angie, crying, ignoring their worried dad. We owe the Roseblades too, adding to our obligations.

More money’s needed. The pirate airship’s too damaged to repair—better to scrap it for materials. The Lady’s Forest ship, thanks to Greg and Jilk, is less damaged and usable after repairs. But repairs and ownership procedures cost time and money. Plus, hosting His Highness and the Earl requires lodging and meals—more expenses and exhaustion. I wish they’d leave soon.

Stop. Thinking about this bums me out. I should just be glad Angie and the others are safe. Lionel and Ariel won’t leave her side, shooing me away as a nuisance. My kids are so cold—Papa’s sad. Angie’s been resting in her room since returning. The doctor found no issues; with rest, she and the baby will be fine. Now I just need to step up. Being a lord is tough.

Entering the bedroom, I see Angie on our bed, the twins asleep beside her, breathing softly. It’s a picture-perfect mother-and-child scene, fit for a painting. A beautiful ex-ducal heiress and her adorable twins. I feel out of place joining them. I’ve killed many, even if they were pirates. Do I deserve to be near my kids? Won’t I cause Angie and them more pain? These doubts have haunted me since the incident.

“What’s wrong?” Angie asks.

I was about to sleep elsewhere when she stops me. She’d been waiting.

“…Didn’t want to wake you. I’ll sleep in another room.”

“Not allowed. Get over here.”

“The twins want to cling to you. I’d be in the way.”

“You’re obligated to sleep beside me. That’s an order.”

My pushy wife shuts me down. Our bed’s cramped for four, and with Angie pregnant, I need space to avoid bumping her. I gently peel the twins off, jealous of their blissful sleeping faces. Sliding between them and Angelica, I notice her staring at me.

“What’re you worrying about?” she asks.

“Nothing.”

“No secrets between us.”

“…Wondering if a killer like me should hold our kids.”

No matter how heroic I’m called, I’ve killed. Self-defense or not, it was the quickest solution. I’m terrified the kids will despise me, call me a murderer. It makes me want to die. Bad thoughts keep me awake, and I dread leaning on Angie only to disappoint her.

“It’s okay,” she says softly, sensing my fear.

“Even if the world rejects you, I swear I’ll stay by your side until the end.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You’re not lying?”

“Don’t push it.”

Scolded like a stubborn kid, I’m such a lousy husband. I slept all the way back, yet I’m drowsy again. Angie’s warmth and softness are comforting. To her, I’m probably no different from the twins—a needy, unreliable arranged-marriage partner. I love her so much, but I’m too weak to protect this happiness. I want strength to safeguard my loved ones. As I drift off, I faintly hear a voice calling me.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

In the dining hall, I down strong liquor and wipe my mouth. Bad day? Eat, drink, or sleep. I don’t mess with women. I’ve been to brothels, but visiting one in our territory would spark rumors. Better head back and sleep before I’m too drunk—work awaits tomorrow.

My engagement to Dorothea’s likely on hold. This incident started because I failed to mediate between Bartfort and Roseblade soldiers. The Earl treated me like a son for saving Dorothea, but only because we returned safely. If Zora’s group had killed the hostages, the Roseblades and Redgraves would’ve held us accountable. My head wouldn’t be enough; the whole family would be ruined. I’ll apologize to the Earl and call off the engagement. It’s the only way.

Looking back, it was a terrible first meeting. Arrogant, snarky, and headstrong—a typical noble lady. Her insults reminded me of academy rejections, and I snapped. At the marriage meeting, her sudden meekness threw me, but her bizarre fetishes repelled me. I thought I was stuck with a flawed heiress, suspecting deception.

But dating showed Dorothea cared for me. She asked Father and Mother about my past and preferences, looking after me. Knowledgeable about development and trade, she facilitated ties with the Roseblades. I suspected she aimed to take over or trap me, but she genuinely helped. After months, I can tell she’s sincere. That’s why I must be honest. This incident, though bloodless, stemmed from Bartfort family drama. Noble custom demands we handle it internally. If Leon’s blamed, it sours ties with the ducal house. Father’s retiring soon, so I’m the best candidate—I started this with Dorothea.

Each swig brings her face to mind. Have I ever been popular with women? A beauty like her saying she loves me feels unreal. Then it hits me—I’m falling for her. That’s why I need to end it properly. Her first love clouded her judgment; she deserves better prospects. Marrying me would only bring hardship, not happiness. A woman of her status needs a fitting match, not a poor baron’s heir. Sweet dreams are over; time to face reality.

The bottle’s empty. Stumbling, I reach my room. A noble heir sleeping alone at my age looks bad. I envy married Leon, surrounded by a beautiful wife and cute kids. Where’s my soulmate?

Tossing my jacket and pants on the floor, I sit on the bed. Tomorrow’s packed—regular duties plus hosting His Highness and the Earl. I pull the covers over to sleep.

Squish…

Something soft brushes my foot. Must be the alcohol messing with me. I stretch out under the covers.

Squish!

“Ahh…♥”

A soft sensation hits my elbow, paired with a sultry voice. This isn’t the booze. My senses scream it’s real. I rip off the covers to check the bed.

A naked woman lies there.

“—!?”

My silent scream echoes through the mansion.

┳⁠━━━━⁠━⁠⁠━⁠━⁠━━━⁠┳⁠

Authors Note

┻━⁠━━━━⁠━━⁠━━━⁠┻

This is the finale of part four. While this work focuses on internal affairs, parts four and five leaned heavily on combat. Leon remains a background mob, unable to match the five capture targets’ raw specs. His choices facing this weakness will drive his perspective moving forward.

Addendum:

Illustrations for this chapter were drawn by Kryto-sama and Tama-sama. Thank you!  

Kryto-sama: Pixiv  

Tama-sama: Pixiv  

Also posted is a rare Nicks x Dorothea adult scene as an interlude:  

Syosetu (Note: Adult content warning)  

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