Chapter 82 – What Do You Think of Me?
2024.01.21
“F-Forgive me. The young lady is unwell, but she’s definitely still alive. Her fever has gone down a lot.”
“Hm.”
Maximilian glanced at Rosalyn, lying there like a corpse, without the slightest flicker of emotion. Then he turned to Sophia.
“But why is it just the three of you here? Where are the other knights?”
“Well… in truth, not long after we arrived in Ansen, we were ambushed by a group of people. Only the three of us and the young lady barely survived.”
“What kind of group? Who were they?”
“I’m not sure. We survived only because we were hiding inside the carriage.”
“You didn’t see anything? Not even something like their crest or insignia?”
“Um…”
At that, one of the younger maids cautiously stepped forward.
“It was… a woman.”
“A woman?”
“Yes. I’m certain there was a black-haired woman among them.”
Even now, the memory made her tremble. But the woman’s face—glimpsed right after stepping out of the carriage—had been so unearthly beautiful that it was seared into her mind.
“That’s impossible. A woman attacked an Embley carriage? How? Are you sure?”
“N-Not completely sure…”
“Then you shouldn’t go around speaking as if it’s a fact.”
“I-I’m sorry.”
His tone was gentle, but the sharpness beneath it was plain. The maid who had spoken shrank back at once.
“If we go to where you were attacked, we might find some clues. You remember exactly where it happened?”
“Yes, sir. I remember it clearly.”
Sophia then described the ambush site in detail.
“I see. Whoever dared attack the Embley will have to pay the price—don’t you agree?”
He spoke as if the Embley blood ran in his own veins, and he did it so naturally that it didn’t feel strange at all.
Just then, another maid came forward, holding a child in her arms.
“My lady… the young lady gave birth to a son. His name is Dani—”
“You take care of him.”
Maximilian didn’t even glance at the baby’s face. It was as if he didn’t think of him as his own blood.
Sophia’s chest burned with anger. Her lady had endured the agony of tearing flesh to bring this child into the world, and yet this man wouldn’t even look at him.
“Until the Embley Elector arrives, you take good care of Rosalyn. If she were to die… how heartbroken would the Elector be?”
“…Yes, I understand.”
When Rosalyn had been conscious, he had acted as though he’d pluck the stars from the sky for her. But now that she lay unmoving, his demeanor was cold, devoid of even a grain of warmth—like a man handing off a beast to be kept.
Sophia cursed him inwardly, but outwardly, she only nodded obediently.
He held my hand. That means he doesn’t feel nothing for me, right?
Leonard had been staring fixedly at Cordelia’s hand for some time. One by one, he recalled every little thing she’d done to him, attaching meaning to them.
When she said I was the person she respected most in the world, there had to be affection in that, right? That means she’s full of positive feelings for me…
If anyone knew the thoughts swirling in his head, they’d laugh at the absurdity of it. But Leonard was dead serious.
And that night… she clung to me, crying, telling me not to abandon her. That’s proof she trusts me more than anyone in the world.
“Master.”
“Wha— huh? What?”
“Why are you so startled?”
“I wasn’t startled. Ahem.”
The catch in his voice completely ruined the credibility of that denial. Trying to act as if nothing had happened, he said,
“What is it? Speak.”
“You’ve been staring at my hand for a while. Are you still holding a grudge?”
“A grudge? What grudge?”
“This bracelet. Wasn’t it Ebrard’s treasure?”
Cordelia lightly shook her left wrist. Only now did Leonard notice the bracelet, despite having been staring at her hand all this time.
“Just use it. Don’t feel pressured.”
“Belluche said it could be used for teleportation, right?”
“That’s right. But he told you that?”
“Yes. He even told me the activation word. I’ve never tried it, though.”
“How odd. At first, Belluche seemed to dislike you…”
Now that he thought about it, Belluche’s behavior was suspicious.
He had initially been openly displeased at the fact Cordelia was Leonard’s disciple. But at some point, he had stopped complaining about guarding her—he’d even volunteered to accompany her to Abram’s.
Could it be that guy also…?!
It was the kind of thought that would make Belluche blow up in indignation, but with his rose-tinted glasses firmly in place, Leonard found it entirely plausible.
“Don’t get too close to Belluche.”
“Uh? All of a sudden? Why?”
“Just don’t. That guy’s head is full of nothing but me and his sword. There’s no room for a woman in there. Got it?”
“…Okay.”
The random talk of Belluche and women was baffling. He hadn’t been like this before, but ever since leaving Abram’s, her master had been saying more and more incomprehensible things.
Cordelia found it odd, but let it go. Her mind was now focused entirely on the Willas Archipelago, not far ahead.
Originally, they had planned to head straight to Yebo Delim. But news came that traces of Maximilian had been found in the south. Alongside that, there was the matter of officially naming Cordelia as Leonard’s successor in the “Acheron” school, so they had changed course toward the Ropel Magic Association.
“What kind of ceremony will it be there?”
“Just a gathering of old mages where we announce you’re the Acheron successor.”
“Is a successor different from a disciple?”
“Usually a mage has many disciples. The successor is the one among them who will take the position of the next Seirius.”
“Are you sure about naming me as your successor? You might take on another disciple someday.”
“No.”
Leonard shook his head with firm finality.
“You’re my first and last disciple. I never even planned to take one to begin with.”
“First and last”… The words lodged themselves warmly in Cordelia’s heart. She rather liked the sound of that.
“Mm. Well, that’s your choice. But why didn’t you want a disciple in the first place?”
“As you’ve learned by now, the mage–disciple bond is absolute. It can’t be severed easily. Once you take someone as your disciple, you’re responsible for them for life. That’s no small burden.”
“You’re really…”
“Really what?”
“Afraid of taking responsibility. Like with marriage before.”
“I know exactly how heavy that responsibility is. My choices can change someone’s life forever.”
“You don’t seem like the type to care about other people’s lives, but you’re surprisingly delicate.”
“I don’t care about just anyone’s life. My disciple or my wife—that’s different.”
Leonard looked straight into her eyes.
“I…”
He hesitated, wondering if bringing it up would sour the fragile good mood between them again. But in the end, he decided to go straight ahead.
“The reason I gave your father money… was because I felt responsible.”
“Responsible for what?”
“I wanted to protect you from him, and that was the method I chose. I swear, I never thought of it as paying for you.”
“…”
“But if it made you feel bad, then it was the wrong way—no matter my intention.”
Truthfully, he still didn’t fully understand why she had been so angry. But his feelings for her surpassed even that lack of understanding.
Cordelia simply stared at him for a while. When the silence stretched on, Leonard spoke more softly than usual.
“Say something. Even if it’s ‘you annoy me’ or ‘I’m still mad’… Anything’s fine.”
“Anything at all?”
“Yeah.”
He tried to sound casual, but inside, his emotions were in turmoil. If she said something like she could never forgive him, or that she didn’t want to see him anymore, it would wound him deeply.
“My father hated my eyes.”
“…Huh?”
That was the last thing he expected. His head jerked up from where he’d been gazing at the floor. Cordelia spoke calmly.
“I don’t know why. He just said he didn’t like them. When he drank, the hatred grew worse. At first it was just a slap or two, but later he’d grab whatever was at hand—even his leather belt—and swing it.”
Memories she would rather not recall, yet could never forget, rose unbidden.
She had clung to her father’s pant leg, begging him to stop. Saying she was sorry. Begging to be spared. Yet she still didn’t know what she had done wrong.
Hearing this, Leonard clenched his fist tightly, unseen.
I shouldn’t have just broken his ankle. I should have beaten him to death with a riding crop.
“At first I tried to understand him. I failed, of course. Then I tried to change my eyes.”
“How?”
“With chemicals… I thought maybe if I couldn’t see anymore, he wouldn’t hate me as much.”
Foolish in hindsight, but at the time, she had been desperate. A little more time, and she might actually have gone through with it.
“Your eyes…”
Leonard could easily picture the young Cordelia, trembling as she brought a hand toward her own eyes. He reached out, his fingertips hovering just short of her cheek.
“Your eyes are beautiful. More than anyone’s I’ve ever seen.”
“Hehe. Thank you.”
“I mean it. I’ve never seen such vivid green eyes before. Sometimes they’re as soft as spring sunlight, sometimes like fresh leaves in early summer.”
He felt frustrated by his limited words. To describe the way her eyes sparkled in the light, he’d have to gather every poet in Ersche.
Whether his sincerity reached her or not, Cordelia only gave him the faintest smile.
