ISTV 12

It was like a scene straight out of a drama—someone casually dropped the necktie, and one of the paladins restraining Garen hurriedly came to support me.

With a voice on the verge of collapse, I spoke. I probably looked like a tragic heroine burdened with all the world’s sorrow, but my voice was oddly calm, adding to the dramatic atmosphere.

“I don’t want to hear any more.”

“Understood.”

The knight picked up the necktie and pressed a hidden button.

“Can you stand?”

I staggered to my feet.

Even if I stumbled like a drunk, I would no doubt look like a grief-stricken heroine.

Feigning difficulty, I said,

—Auntie, who’s worse?

“Even now, do you still claim it was my brother’s fault?”

—Did she not teach her child how to speak properly?

“I don’t believe he was born with such a cruel tongue. Where and how did he learn to speak in such a vulgar and horrific way?”

I turned toward the High Priest.

“I want to cleanse my ears. This is unbearable.”

The High Priest nodded.

“Bring the holy water.”

For the record, holy water costs 100 million diamonds per drop.

That bill would go to House Dern.

Upon hearing the words “holy water,” the woman’s face turned ashen.

Hooray for financial punishment!

Kusmo trembled, pale as a ghost, while Lady Dern screamed in denial.

“This is clearly a setup!”

She pretended to be logical while throwing a fit.

“Who installs such a device in a necktie? Even if you’re from the renowned magical House Devernon, this is highly suspicious! As if someone had anticipated this exact scenario.”

“……”

“Perhaps someone even orchestrated this to happen.”

Good. Let’s see how far she can push her nonsense.

“This is nothing but a cunning scheme. Is this your doing, Lady? Or is someone higher pulling the strings? Ah! Recently, there’s been a trade dispute between House Dern and House Devernon—perhaps this was just a cowardly ploy to pressure us using this incident!”

As I stayed silent, Lady Dern grew more and more confident.

She must think I’m too scared to say anything.

“Lady Seyla. Lord Garen. You both have mouths—say something. Why was such a necktie prepared in advance? We’ll be formally raising this matter as you’ve used our child as a scapegoat!”

After listening for a while, I slowly opened my mouth.

“First, it’s true that I prepared the necktie as a gift under my father’s orders.”

“I knew it. What, did you have some malicious intent?”

“Please, take a look around my brother and me.”

The coming-of-age ceremony was a significant event.

Most attendees were accompanied by their parents, or by a representative if the parents couldn’t come.

“Not a single elder from House Devernon could attend this event.”

I glanced briefly at Garen.

His eyes were bloodshot with frustration.

“That’s not because my brother is unloved.”

Garen flinched.

Perhaps that was the line he’d wanted to hear all along.

“It’s because today was the youngest-ever professor appointment ceremony for my eldest brother, Lord Demian, the prodigy born of Devernon. The family had no choice but to prioritize it. Even so, my father wished to commemorate today’s event.”

I had already prepared that justification in case I needed it.

Thanks to my ability to eloquently wrap things up in elegance, I could deliver it smoothly and with ease.

“Though he could not be here in body, his heart was with his son. This necktie was a deeply meaningful gift meant to say: ‘I will remember you always.’”

Demian’s appointment as the youngest professor was already famous across the continent.

“But Lady Dern and Lord Kusmo defiled that heartfelt gift. While I initially insisted that my brother’s violence could not be justified…”

I stepped closer to Lady Dern.

“I’ve changed my mind. As my brother—and as a noble son of a prestigious house—he did the right thing.”

I looked around. Many in the crowd were murmuring, and Kusmo had his head hung low.

One of the paladins soon returned with a small bottle of holy water.

The High Priest spoke firmly.

“The cost will be charged to House Dern.”

It was as good as a verdict.

A genius that appears once in a hundred years.

The first son of Devernon, gifted with a natural talent for magic and many achievements from a young age, had just been appointed as an adjunct professor at Somarfi Academy—a fact that sent ripples throughout the continent.

He stood on the platform, under the gaze of countless onlookers.

It was a grand appointment ceremony, attended by House Devernon’s head DePhelto, steward Taykan, knights of the Dawn Order, and most of the Devernon power circle.

“I first extend my gratitude to the Dean of Somarfi Academy and the professors for entrusting me with this honorable position.”

After briefly expressing his thanks and thoughts, he stepped down from the stage.

“Well done, My Lord.”

“….”

His personal maid, Karina—formerly an assassin—was right at his side.

She was incredibly quick-witted and well-attuned to Demian’s needs.

“Are you looking for someone?”

“No.”

But he clearly was.

Karina thought this inwardly, trying to guess who he might be thinking about.

‘The Bi-Gung delegation is here, and so is the Queibek family. Everyone that might matter to him is present.’

But she couldn’t figure out who he might be missing.

Then, Demian said,

“Fetch some Levithon herb.”

Karina nearly asked, “Levithon herb?” out loud but managed to simply respond, “Yes.”

‘Levithon… That’s a miracle herb only really effective on children before their coming-of-age ceremony.’

It was nearly a panacea for kids before adulthood.

It was expensive, but extremely effective.

“I’ll mark the purchase for research use, My Lord.”

“As you wish.”

Karina quietly vanished.

In the carriage on the way back to the estate, Demian stared out the window with a blank expression.

‘Are you sick, Seyla?’

Seyla had not come to the appointment ceremony.

She had to be sick. There was no other reason she would’ve missed it.

He gave an order to the coachman.

“Go faster.”

Not long after returning to the estate, Demian was summoned by DePhelto.

It wasn’t unexpected, so he wasn’t too surprised.

“You said I prepared the necktie? Quite the clever lie.”

“I did it to protect the family’s honor.”

In the end, everything had gone in our favor.

Kusmo’s comments had been far too inflammatory and shocking.

People pointed fingers at Kusmo, and Garen was able to claim self-defense.

“My brother successfully completed his coming-of-age ceremony, and House Dern bowed their heads before us.”

“……”

“And now, in the trade dispute with House Dern, we’ve gained a favorable position.”

I hadn’t aimed for that specifically, but it worked out well for me.

“We’ve lost nothing. If anything, the only cost was you gaining a public image as a father who dearly loves his son. But that’s not such a bad thing in the public eye.”

DePhelto looked at me for a long moment before chuckling in amusement.

His chuckles grew louder and louder until they became full-blown laughter.

“Amusing. Utterly amusing.”

“Still, I will accept any punishment for lying.”

“Your contribution outweighs the fault. I won’t pursue it. You may go.”

“Yes.”

I politely lifted my dress hem, bowed, and turned toward the door.

“But Seyla.”

“Yes?”

He was calling me even though the matter was settled? That was rare.

What now?

“I heard your defense of your brother—so noble and graceful. It’s become quite the story.”

A year ago, his expression had been icy, but now it had softened considerably.

I felt proud of how far I’d come.

“Did it benefit the family?”

“In a week, there will be a Devernon Conference. You’ll be attending with me. Prepare yourself.”

Devernon Conference?

This world had three major power conferences.

Since everyone insisted they be named after themselves—Queibek, Bigung, and Devernon—the conferences were ultimately named based on who was hosting and where.

This time, the Devernon family was the host, so it was the Devernon Conference.

A place where the leaders of the three great powers gathered to discuss the future—and he wanted me there? Why?

“Do I have the right to refuse?”

“Do you wish to?”

Meeting the heads of the three powers…

Getting caught in something that big meant I’d be walking into constant death flags.

There would be too many variables outside my control.

Who knows? I might end up slipping on a banana peel and cracking my skull—a tragic young lady remembered only for her unfortunate demise.

“I’ll give you a day. Think it over. It may be a good opportunity for you as well.”