FDSML CH 14

Chapter 14

“‘You used me as a shield until Lady Ferris finished her debut—how dare you use me!’”

Nanael wasn’t entirely wrong. The reason he kept the engagement wasn’t only his father. Having become a duke so young, he had many enemies; he needed an excuse to divert attention while things stabilized. His father’s sudden collapse had shaken all of House Ainruck.

If only his father had died honorably in battle, his position wouldn’t feel so precarious, and the imperial family wouldn’t have him by the throat. Retainers still waiting for the previous duke’s recovery—and the factions trying to use that—were lying low, biding their time.

Of course, Alperen hadn’t just sat on his hands; he’d gathered a sizable bloc that supported him.

“Alperen Ainruck—you have to be stronger than anyone. So no one can ever deny you.”

His father—who’d become duke only because his older brother died—had spent his life proving himself, all the more because that brother had been a brilliant mage. Alperen, lucky enough to be gifted in many ways, became the previous duke’s pride.

But he often wondered:

If I became weak and worthless… would Father reject me?

He couldn’t answer right away. Deep inside was still a boy afraid of being found wanting—an unworthy son who sometimes doubted his father’s love. Whether or not his father meant to, the pressure had seeped into him. He had to prove himself to his father at every step.

Meeting the little lady Rodelia had been a stroke of luck.

At first she wasn’t particularly impressive. She started catching his eye the day she turned up asking him to heal a bird with an injured leg.

“Heal it. You’re an amazing mage, right?”

She handed the request over like she was collecting a parcel. The bird looked like a snake had bitten its leg. By nature, it should have been snake food. But Rodelia clearly wanted to save that small, weak thing.

Normally he would have brushed it off as a hassle, but that day he’d placed second for the first time and was out of sorts. That’s why he snapped at her, trying to crush her resolve.

“In the animal world, the weak die. Even if I save it now, it’ll just get hurt and die later. Are you going to bring it to me every time? Some creatures are born to be eaten.”

“That’s a mother bird hurt while protecting her chick. If she dies, the babies die too. You’re saying that now?”

“That’s nature’s ord—”

“Don’t be ridiculous! You could save it and you won’t—hiding behind lofty reasons? You’re the worst!”

“Urk!”

Rodelia, fuming, kicked him in the shin and burst into tears.

“So the weak should all die? If you’re not the main character, is a side character’s death just fine? Are strong people born strong? Who chooses to be weak?!”

She cried so hard. Alperen didn’t know what had set her off. But one thing was clear: her near-absurd plea hit him surprisingly deep.

He looked at the bird, breathing faintly—so small and fragile it seemed it might burst if he held it too hard. Rodelia grieved over that insignificant creature, and something cracked in the wall inside him. Her words clashed head-on with his father’s creed that only the strong survive.

Rodelia was telling him:

You don’t have to be strong.

It’s okay to be weak.

You don’t have to keep proving yourself.

In that moment, he wanted to grant her wish. He stretched a hand toward the bird.

Flutter—!

The bird that had seemed on the brink revived under his touch and beat its wings. It shot into the sky, suddenly free. Seeing that frail thing regain freedom because of him left him oddly light.

Watching it fly off, Alperen murmured,

“Rodelia, I’m not strong.”

“I know. What ‘strong’ person acts like the world has ended over one second place? You’re totally flimsy.”

It was basically a jab at his Achilles’ heel—and yet he wasn’t angry at all. The pain he’d felt minutes earlier eased like mist. It was as if the long shadow of his father had been driven back by Rodelia’s light.

From then on, he let her close and quietly watched her. Small, weak things gathered around Rodelia. Butterflies circled her in the garden; injured animals often came to her for help. Each time, she came to him, and he used healing magic without complaint. He’d even learned healing—a poor match for his natural affinity—because of her. Rescuing animals became their private game.

And she always said the same thing:

“Watch out for red hair today!”

As a child, Rodelia’s hair had been even redder. It sounded like she was drawing a line—don’t come near me. That pricked his pride. At first, he thought she had some other scheme and tried to ferret it out. By the time he realized he couldn’t stop tracking her with his eyes, he’d figured it out: the “red hair” was Nanael Barnard, and Rodelia was focused solely on breaking his engagement.

That’s why he’d kept putting off the breakup—so her attention would stay on him.

But now that was gone.

How am I supposed to keep you with me?

Complicated, he stroked Rodelia’s cheek. She shifted in her sleep and snuggled closer, clutching his hand—and started nibbling on her own hair.

“Mmm… pasta…”

She must be eating pasta in her dream, using his hand like a fork.

“Pfft.”

He smothered a laugh and turned his head. “Ha… you really are something.”

Among all the young ladies he’d met, Rodelia Ferris was the one he could never relax around. The way her unpredictable charm had made him smile during his bleakest times…

He suddenly remembered their first meeting. Her eyes had watched him warily, but her actions were bold and warm.

“If you’re my brother’s friend, then you’re my brother too. How about it? Want me as your little sister?”

“…No need.”

“Wow, ouch. Most people at least turn me down tactfully.”

“…It’s fine.”

“Really? I’m a great little sister. You won’t regret keeping me close.”

From the start she’d been different—charging in to be “siblings,” taking cheeky shots at Nanael. Back then, with the engagement to Nanael feeling like a humiliation, it was cathartic having someone curse her out on his behalf.

But at some point, every time Rodelia emphasized the “brother–sister” thing, it started to grate. It didn’t take long to realize his feelings weren’t those of a friend toward a friend’s sister.

Even after he knew, nothing changed outwardly. The closer he held that bond, the more carefully he approached—really, the less able he was to cross the line. The more precious something is, the more you fear losing it.

As he gently brushed a strand off Rodelia’s cheek, her eyes flew open. She blinked slowly, taking in her surroundings. When clarity returned to her gaze, Alperen knew it at once.

The spell on her had lifted.