YWPWYLFDM 82

Chapter 82

As planned, Capella spent the night at Debbie and Scott’s cabin, then left Eila behind and departed.

Before leaving, she repeated Byron’s instructions over and over: that Eila must learn well how to live here.

Yes—according to the scenario Byron had crafted, this was the very place where Eila Hailing Weisshafen, who had once vanished with her wet nurse, was meant to have grown up.

It had been the same in her past life.

Eila, discovered by a kindly couple living in seclusion deep in the mountains, became their foster daughter.

Later, when bandits attacked and set their home ablaze, killing her foster parents, Eila alone survived. She descended to the neighboring village, only to discover that she was, in fact, the long-lost sole daughter of the Weisshafen ducal house.

At sixteen, she had lived with the couple for over two months, learning their way of life—
all so she could avenge her father, all so she could pose convincingly as their daughter without arousing suspicion from Roderick and Ophelia.

But back then, she hadn’t known. She hadn’t known Byron would go so far as to actually kill Debbie and Scott, just to make his fabricated story more believable.

By eliminating them, he both explained why Eila hadn’t been found and erased any future witnesses.

Yet the couple were far too good-hearted to deserve being sacrificed for such a scheme.

They had mourned sincerely, as if it were their own tragedy, when Eila and Capella told them their fabricated tale. They had treated her with kindness, helping her feel at home and unafraid.

Even when her “mother,” who had promised to return soon, failed to appear, they never treated her like a burden. Instead, they comforted her, reassuring her that her mother would be back soon.

So when that couple truly perished in flames along with their warm little cabin, the shock had been devastating.

Looking back, she thought perhaps that had been the first time she ever doubted her father’s actions.

Of course, she had quickly lashed herself back into line, reminding herself that her father was doing what was right, and pushed away those doubts.

The tide of regret washed over her even now, but she forced it down. No amount of recalling her past foolishness could change anything.

What mattered was what she would do from here on.

…Auntie, Uncle. This time, it won’t happen. I’ll protect you both… I swear it.

Eila repeated the vow in her heart several times while helping Debbie prepare lunch.

Hadn’t she even obtained special permission from Winfred to use an imperial safehouse, all for their safety?

As she trimmed vegetables from the garden with practiced hands, Debbie gave her a gentle smile and said,

“My goodness, Eila, you even cook so neatly. You’re not just pretty, you’re skilled too.”

It was only because she had already lived with them once before and learned their ways. But hearing praise still made her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She mumbled softly, “It’s nothing…”

They had praised her plenty back when she was sixteen as well, but now—perhaps because she was even younger—they seemed all the more indulgent toward her.

“Oh dear, I forgot to pick some basil leaves,” Debbie suddenly said, clapping her hands.

“I’ll go get them, Auntie,” Eila offered immediately.

Since she had just finished chopping vegetables, her hands were free. Debbie looked a little sheepish as she accepted the help.

“Would you? You know where they are, right?”

“Yes, Auntie.”

Eila nodded and stepped outside.

Debbie and Scott often marveled at how quickly she learned her way around, but of course it was because this place was unchanged from the past—or rather, from the future three years ahead.

It was as though time itself had frozen here.

She went to the herb patch at the corner of the garden. As she was plucking leaves, she suddenly sensed a presence.

It wasn’t time yet for Scott to return from checking the fish traps at the stream, and it didn’t feel like an animal.

No—this presence was very familiar to her.

“…Cloud. Stop lurking and come out.”

Glancing toward the cabin to make sure Debbie couldn’t hear, she called out. Sure enough, a familiar figure emerged from behind a tree.

“My lady.”

“What are you doing here?”

“It is my master’s order. To… protect you.”

Cloud, usually so skilled at hiding his emotions that he could deceive everyone—including her—was giving away such a flimsy lie that she immediately scoffed.

“Not protect—watch, you mean.”

“…”

He couldn’t answer. Which meant she was right.

“I should go back in. If it’s something long, save it. If it’s short, speak now.”

She plucked basil leaves with a cool voice.

“…My master suspects you.”

He delivered the message plainly.

So—her slip when she had been unable to hide her reaction to the order to kill Noah had reached Byron’s ears.

“…Is it serious?”

“No. When I explained that perhaps my lady only hesitated because it was a helpless infant, he seemed to accept it. But I thought it best to warn you to be cautious.”

Eila paused, basil in hand, studying him. The feeling was strange.

This man—whom she had once hated so much she wanted him dead—was now sincerely worrying about her, even helping her.

And in doing so, he was betraying the very man he always called “master.”

“…Fine. You’ll keep hanging around here, won’t you? Just make sure Auntie and Uncle never notice you. You’ll scare them.”

She was used to tailing and surveillance, but for the couple—who had spent so long living peacefully on their own—it would be terrifying if they stumbled upon Cloud.

With a small sigh, she said this. Cloud dipped his head briefly in obedience.

“…Yes, my lady.”

Then he slipped back behind the trees.

“Eila, are you still out there?”

Debbie poked her head out of the cabin.

“I’m coming, Auntie! Just a moment!”

Her voice, cold as ice when speaking to Cloud, now softened into the bright tone of a child as she answered Debbie.

Hidden behind the tree, Cloud watched her until she disappeared fully back into the cabin, his expression clouded with turmoil.

The war against the Sekim tribe, as always, ended in a human victory.

This time, it was even shorter than any in history.

Much of the credit went to Roderick and the Weisshafen knights. The ducal knights had always been the empire’s shield, but now they were at the peak of their strength.

The true finishing blow came when Roderick himself charged into the enemy camp and captured their chieftain.

Leaderless, the Sekim tribe faltered and finally chose to retreat.

Though a few remnants lingered and raided nearby villages, preventing the army from fully withdrawing, the crisis had largely passed.

Thus, Roderick entrusted the clean-up to others and hurried home.

Infants Noah’s age grew so quickly—just a few days apart felt like a transformation. How much bigger had his son grown while he was away?

He longed to sweep both Ophelia and Noah into his arms at once.

“Welcome home, Roderick. You’ve worked so hard.”

When he finally arrived, Ophelia was waiting for him at the front door, Noah in the nanny’s arms beside her.

Roderick’s heart leapt. He wanted to embrace them immediately, but he had rushed home straight from the battlefield, unwashed and filthy.

“I’ll wash up first.”

He flapped his arms awkwardly, as if to hug them without touching, before giving up and darting inside.

Ophelia laughed at her usually stoic husband flailing like a bird, then followed him inside with a smile.

After a thorough bath, Roderick emerged toweling his damp hair. His muscular frame, marked with old scars, was visible beneath the bathrobe.

“…?”

As he looked around, he finally sensed something strange in the atmosphere of the mansion.

The servants bringing him clothes seemed unsettled, and the house wasn’t as orderly as usual.

Throwing on some simple indoor clothes, Roderick hurried to the nursery.

Of course, he wanted to feel how heavy Noah had grown in his arms—but more urgently, he needed to ask Ophelia what had happened while he was gone.

“Ophelia, did something happen? Why is the house so unsettled?”

He asked gently, carefully, not wanting his words to sound like reproach.

And of course, Ophelia knew her husband would never scold her over such things. She took no offense.

“Well… it’s like this.”

She handed their son into his freshly washed arms as she explained. Noah felt much heavier than before, just as he looked.

“The servants began quitting one by one. Now, only the bare minimum are left. Noah is still so little, and I couldn’t hire replacements on my own. So I was simply waiting for you to return.”