Chapter 67
The Second Tea Party
Ferda looked over everything that had happened at Valdrova Castle.
He had been away for an entire month, so he wondered whether any problems had arisen, but everything appeared to be proceeding smoothly.
The first place he visited was Burnell’s laboratory.
Even Burnell’s difficult-to-follow theories were gradually being refined into something easier to understand.
It was an achievement made possible by the fifteen assistants helping him.
The greatest hurdle is still far ahead, though.
Burnell’s greatest challenge was, without question, Malcolm.
“Mr. Malcolm, could you put this into the opening on the right?”
“The right one, you mean?! Understood!”
“No, your right! The hand you eat with! No, not there! Agh!”
To those who had spent their lives competing with geniuses, Malcolm was nothing short of a natural disaster.
Whenever anyone said anything even slightly complicated, a question mark practically appeared above his head.
He could not distinguish east from west, north from south, or even left from right.
He was quite possibly the greatest idiot in history.
They had to make concepts that even geniuses struggled to understand comprehensible to a fool.
Burnell had pulled at his hair so much that his once-thick locks had thinned enough to expose his scalp.
Meanwhile, Malcolm, the source of all his suffering, remained as cheerful as a dog out for a walk.
Magitech is ultimately meant to be used by people who are not magicians.
Even if someone like Malcolm could not apply it creatively, if he could at least understand its purpose and operate it, then ordinary people would be able to use it as well.
That was Ferda’s ultimate goal.
In any case, things seem to be progressing smoothly here.
As Ferda passed by Burnell clutching his head in despair, he heard a loud voice from one corner of the corridor.
“Hyaaaah?!”
He recognized the overdramatic shriek immediately.
It belonged to the demon Penelope.
“What is this witch doing here?! Why is a witch openly wandering around a dragon’s castle?!”
The witch she was referring to was undoubtedly Echidna.
“Hehehehehe. If a demon is allowed to wander around, why shouldn’t a witch?”
Ferda wondered why the two of them were together, but the reason soon became apparent.
“Miss Mechidna? Could you calm down and listen to me?”
It was because of Zed.
When Ferda drew closer, he saw exactly what was happening.
Penelope was clinging to Zed’s leg.
Zed was floundering helplessly.
And Echidna was pointing a knife at him.
Her eyes were unfocused.
“Ah, Lord Zed. Don’t worry. I won’t harm you. I merely intend to perform a contract-separation technique.”
“A contract-separation technique?”
“Yes. We cut off the place where Lord Zed’s mark was engraved and grant it new life, allowing us to evade the curse. Then Lord Zed’s body will be perfectly clean again, just as it was before.”
“…Doesn’t that mean you’re going to cut off my arm?”
“And you’ll have to spend every day of your life in agony. But pain like that is nothing!”
Zed was so dumbfounded that his true feelings slipped out.
“Are you insane?”
“It’s all right! Even if you only have one arm, I’ll keep loving you forever, Lord Zed!”
“Well, I happen to love my arm!”
“We’ll overcome it together! With the power of our love!”
This part of the castle had descended into its own unique form of chaos.
Ferda could easily infer the cause from their conversation.
It must be because of the pact with Penelope.
On the day of the rescue, Ferda had forced Penelope and Zed to enter into a contract.
It was intended to prevent Penelope’s body from returning to Hell while simultaneously allowing them to monitor her movements.
He had also placed a strong gagging clause in the contract, ensuring that she could never speak about Sitri’s Life Vessel without his permission.
Penelope was the one wearing the collar, but from her perspective, the terms were excellent.
Was it not far better to hide safely inside a dragon’s lair than to spend her life fleeing from place to place?
Is it… good for Zed too?
He was the sort of man who reflexively flirted with any woman he saw.
Penelope was a woman, technically speaking, so Ferda assumed he might be pleased.
Ferda had not fully explained Penelope’s purpose to Zed.
It was enough for him to know that she was a daughter Sitri treasured immensely.
While Zed remained trapped between the demon and the witch, his eyes met Ferda’s.
Zed’s gaze clearly said:
Please save me.
A true man spoke with his back.
Ferda turned away like a man.
Handle it yourself.
In any case, everything is running without issue.
The castle continued functioning without anyone knowing what Ferda had done during his absence.
“Lord Ferda.”
Luri, the petite girl dressed in a maid uniform, approached him as she normally did.
“Everything is ready.”
“Understood.”
Ferda adjusted his necktie for no particular reason.
Black hands extended from his clothes and began straightening his outfit once more.
He had risked dealing with a demon to obtain information.
He had killed the one threatening Luri to prevent her from being taken away.
He had faced two crises that could have endangered the continued existence of the nation.
Yet even all those moments combined had not made him as nervous as he was now.
It felt like being a child hiding a urine-soaked blanket inside a wardrobe.
Like concealing a secret that might not be discovered immediately, but inevitably would be someday.
That anxiety vanished when the door to the recreation room opened.
Before him stood the wide-open balcony, a tea table, and an out-of-place suit of dragoon armor.
Again today.
He had already seen it twice, so it was no longer particularly surprising.
She sat perfectly still, staring in his direction.
The helmet modeled after Valdrova’s draconic visage imposed an overwhelming pressure on anyone who faced it.
Why is she just staring at me?
Ferda began walking forward.
He imagined what expression she might be wearing beneath the helmet.
Before his imagination could reach its worst conclusion, he realized the truth.
“Snore…”
She was asleep.
Valdrova’s head tilted forward.
It nearly struck the floor before snapping back upright.
“Mmm… Mmh… Hm?”
The helmet of Valdrova, who had supposedly been waiting patiently, lifted toward Ferda.
“Mmm… Mr. Ferda…?”
Her voice was hazy with sleep.
She stared blankly at him for a moment.
“Ah?! Mr. Ferda?!”
She hurriedly sprang from her seat and welcomed him.
“Y-You’re back?!”
“Yes. It is an honor to see you, Grand Duchess Valdrova.”
“W-Welcome back, Mr. Ferda. I was just…”
Valdrova could not think of a suitable excuse.
Ferda helped her.
“You must have had a great deal to think about. You seemed deeply lost in contemplation.”
“Pardon? Ah, actually, I was dozing off…”
“When a king wakes after dozing, it is polite to say something like that.”
“Ah, I-I see. Yes. I was thinking. I was definitely thinking!”
Pleased to have found a plausible excuse, she nodded repeatedly.
She was a terrible liar.
“Are you all right, Mr. Ferda?”
“Yes.”
“I heard there was a problem with your carriage. They said you stopped by Count Consilus’s territory because of it…”
Ferda glanced at Luri.
She had been standing silently like part of the scenery and gave him a slight nod.
Ferda therefore confirmed it.
“Yes, that is correct.”
“You weren’t hurt, were you?”
“It was nothing serious. The issue could be resolved with minor repairs.”
“That’s a relief. I was a little worried.”
Her relief was sincere.
That reaction was precisely why the secret had to be kept.
“What did they discuss at the Council of Grand Dukes?”
Ferda told her about what had happened there.
He spoke only of a simple territorial dispute.
“I see. On the Cerdes Continent… I have heard that wars still break out from time to time.”
A territorial conflict between elves and dwarves.
“Are they still fighting? I feel as though they were already doing that long ago…”
Most of the conversation concerned such matters.
Conflict and anger.
There was nothing that might inspire laughter.
Yet Valdrova listened with deep concentration.
That was what frightened him.
He feared that her innocence might draw him in and cause him to make a mistake.
It was not easy to step into a pure field of snow with mud-covered feet.
“And…”
The story approached its conclusion.
“We also discussed the eastern conquest.”
“The eastern conquest?”
“I declared that we would conquer the Demonic Lands along our border.”
“Ah.”
The Demonic Lands.
At those words, even Valdrova, who had been responding agreeably until then, fell silent.
For no particular reason, she began rubbing her upper arm.
Her gaze drifted beyond the balcony.
It was early autumn, when the landscape underwent its richest transformation of color.
A sight ordinary people of the Cerdes Continent took for granted.
“The place now called the Demonic Lands…”
Her voice was steeped in distant memories.
“There was once a time when it, too, possessed scenery as beautiful as this.”
Complex emotions were woven into her words.
“It may have been stained black now, but someday it can regain those beautiful colors, can’t it?”
Of course.
He could have ended it simply with those words.
But Ferda could not bring himself to do so.
“It will not be easy.”
Ferda offered no certainty.
“But I will do whatever it takes to restore the scenery you once saw.”
Instead, he revealed his resolve.
“Is that so?”
Valdrova brightened, as though his words had truly reached her.
“I’ll help as much as I can with anything within my power.”
She clenched her fist tightly.
“My fiancé is working hard. I can’t simply sit around doing nothing.”
“If Your Highness lends me your hand, there could be no greater honor.”
As Ferda watched her, he felt his heart grow peaceful.
Something he could accept exactly as it was, without needing to peer deeply into hidden intentions.
This, surely, was true innocence.
“Um… Is there anything else?”
“There is nothing else.”
“Ah, I see…”
Valdrova’s voice trailed off uncertainly.
What was it?
What sort of story had she been expecting?
Ferda raised his cooling tea to his lips.
“Well, Luri told me…”
“Yes?”
“That you even held hands with a woman named Olivia.”
“Pffft!”
He choked and spectacularly sprayed tea everywhere.
Valdrova looked even more startled than Ferda, despite him being the one who had spat out the tea.
“Mr. Ferda? Are you all right?!”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you… I merely wanted to talk about it…”
Ferda wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and turned his eyes aside.
His gaze met Luri’s, who stood there like part of the furniture.
You actually told her?
When he glared at her with that question in his eyes, Luri looked away.
It would have been a lie to say he felt no resentment.
His head began aching in an instant.
What could he say to escape this situation?
That Olivia had grabbed his hand first?
That although they had held hands, it had meant nothing?
Dozens of excuses surfaced in his mind, but Ferda immediately discarded them all.
“I apologize. Holding hands with another woman while I am betrothed to Your Highness…”
“W-What do you mean, betrayal? I don’t care about things like that!”
She hurriedly waved her hands.
“You’re a man, Mr. Ferda… and I heard that lady is incredibly beautiful, so… yes, I think something like that could happen.”
She murmured as though she understood, but her fidgeting fingers and lowered head said otherwise.
Guilt weighed heavily upon Ferda’s heart.
“So, about that…”
Her eyes cautiously looked down at him.
“P-Perhaps…”
She tilted her head slightly as she asked Ferda,
“Would you perhaps… like to hold my hand too?”
A ringing echoed through Ferda’s head.
“…Pardon?”
He ended up asking like a fool.
“Your Highness’s… hand?”
“Yes. We held hands once before… and I think I can manage that much…”
My face is still impossible, though.
She mumbled the rest under her breath and waited for his answer.
“W-What do you think?”
Unlike the casualness of her suggestion, Ferda approached the matter with greater care than ever before.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
He could not afford to squander it recklessly.
He suppressed his trembling, swallowed to clear his throat, and tried to speak in a rational voice.
“I would… like to.”
“All right. One moment.”
She removed her gauntlet.
In contrast to the enormous armor, a small and delicate hand appeared before Ferda.
It was a fragile arm from which one could sense no trace of the Aspect of Power.
When she shyly curled her fingers into a fist, it looked even smaller.
“H-Here!”
She extended her hand with the palm facing upward.
Ferda stared down at it as though entranced.
Even the slender fingers and the lines crossing her palm looked like part of a painting.
Ferda carefully lowered his hand toward hers—
“Hic?!”
Valdrova’s hand suddenly jerked away.
He did not even have time to register its softness.
“Why did you pull away?”
“No, it’s just… You see… I don’t think I’ll be able to control my strength properly… I need a little time to prepare myself…”
Her words stretched out, and he could hear her breathing heavily inside the helmet.
Ferda’s heart sank, worried that she might have changed her mind.
She placed her mismatched hands against her chest and tried to steady her breathing.
When her tension showed no sign of fading, Ferda made a suggestion.
“If controlling your strength is difficult, how about I place my hand over yours from above?”
“Oh! That would work! Let’s… do it that way.”
Valdrova cautiously placed the back of her hand upon the table.
Ferda once again laid his hand over hers.
Crack—
At that moment, the sound of something breaking reached his ears.
Upon closer inspection, cracks had formed across the table.
Was this table made of granite?
It was a material renowned for its incredible durability, said not to break even if a meteor fell from the sky.
A table made from it would have been the strongest on the entire continent.
I heard it would barely crack under ordinary circumstances. As expected…
She was not called the Aspect of Power for nothing.
As Ferda thought that, he suddenly recalled what he had done during their first meeting.
Driven by the urge to see Valdrova’s face, he had acted without thinking.
I’m fairly certain I even interlocked fingers with her back then.
Ferda felt grateful that his right hand had not been crushed.
Despite that chilling realization, he could not bring himself to release Valdrova’s hand.
Small and soft.
Warm body heat and a clearly felt pulse.
A tiny part of her that he never wanted to let go of for the rest of his life.
If he eventually had to release it, he at least wanted to feel it without regret.
Perhaps it would be fine even if my hand were crushed a little.
For a moment, he considered simply going through with it.
Ferda’s reason quickly subdued the thought.
“Have you still been suffering from that violent bloodlust lately?”
Valdrova shook her head.
“Nooo… I’m fine.”
“Lady Valdrova was unable to hunt yesterday.”
“L-Luri?”
Valdrova looked flustered.
Luri abruptly offered the information as though she had only just appeared, then fell silent again.
“Is that true?”
“Well… yes. But I’m sure it will be fine. Just because no monsters appeared yesterday doesn’t mean none will come today.”
“But there is no guarantee that they will come either.”
“Yes, that’s… true.”
“If you are unable to hunt, you will harm yourself.”
“…”
Valdrova fell silent.
She had no idea what she was supposed to say in an atmosphere like this.
But little conversation was necessary.
“Ah…”
Valdrova felt something flowing into her through the back of her hand.
It was a sensation she knew well.
The same thing that had subdued her bloodlust before.
“Mr. Ferda…”
“It’s all right.”
Valdrova closed her mouth.
As it entered her body, it calmly settled her pounding heart.
Even though she had already experienced it once, she nearly let out a sound of wonder.
The sensation that could ordinarily be relieved only through violence was fading away so peacefully.
“Um, Mr. Ferda…”
“Yes?”
“I think that’s enough now.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
Ferda stopped infusing mana.
Silence descended.
An unbearably awkward silence.
Yet neither of them dared to break it.
The instant one of them spoke, it felt as though they would both rise from their seats.
As though the hands they had finally gathered the courage to join would separate.
Just a little longer.
They prolonged that uncomfortable silence.