IBTHM Chapter 16

Abel, flustered, hastily retied the loosened handkerchief back around my wrist.

Ugh, watching those fern-like little hands move so diligently was just heartwarming.

Unlike me—who wasn't particularly bothered—Abel seemed quite shocked.

Which was a natural reaction, really. How absurd would it be to watch someone just casually letting their core dangle out in the open like that?

"Why, why aren't you hiding it?"

"It's not that I'm not hiding it—I can't hide it. I don't know how to hide it. Because of this, His Grace seems worried too."

"Ah! Then, then it's not your fault at all... Don't be sad."

"Thank you. You're amazing, Young Master. You already succeeded in hiding your mana core a long time ago, right? Usually people don't manage it until well past ten years old. I guess geniuses really are different from the start."

"Huh?! A genius? I'm not like that at all. And just because you can't hide it doesn't make you stupid either. So really... don't be sad."

Abel touched the end of the handkerchief tied around my wrist with a gloomy expression.

"But, but... My Lady, that seems a bit dangerous. You can't tell just anyone about weaknesses like this."

"You're not just anyone though, are you?"

"Ah..."

At my words, Abel's eyes widened in surprise before his face flushed red.

"I, I guess so..."

After being embarrassed for a while in front of me as I smiled contentedly, Abel soon nodded with a determined expression.

"So you won't be in danger, I'll protect you well."

Good heavens.

Not only had I become a successful fan, but now I was even hearing Abel say 'I'll protect you.'

I was moved by this completely unintended harvest. Being protected by the male lead—how common an occurrence was that?

My nose tingled ridiculously, so I barely managed to compose myself before speaking.

"Thank you, Young Master."

Around the time Aisha and Abel were spending their happiest moments together.

The maid Ann, immediately after meeting Count and Countess Gaspel yesterday, recalled with a rather dark expression the request Aisha had made.

'Ann, could you try getting friendly with the maids here? I don't know the atmosphere here at all, so there's something I need you to find out for me.'

'What is it?'

'How the ducal castle employees treat Abel. Whether there's any neglect or abuse, things like that. And if there is, what level it's at.'

Seeing her make such a request right after returning from meeting the Count and his wife, something must have been weighing on her mind, but Ann didn't ask deeply.

Aisha even handed over a bundle of reasonably valuable accessories she'd brought with her to the North.

'Use this if you need it. There's nothing better than money for luring people in—you've learned that well enough working with me all this time, right?'

Ann, who was quite perceptive and good at navigating social situations, had actually already built moderate connections with several of the ducal castle's maids even before Aisha's request.

However, while Ann was observing them to assess the situation, they likewise weren't carelessly gossiping about the ducal castle's affairs to Ann, a stranger and outsider, so until now there hadn't been much useful harvest.

That is, until she overheard the conversation between two maids coming out after tidying Abel's room while he was on a walk with Aisha.

"I knew the Countess was a scary person, but honestly, I didn't think it would be this bad..."

"My own feet were aching. But look at him still insisting on going out for a walk."

As they approached Abel's room, Ann quickly stopped walking at the small conversation whispering through the quiet corridor and pressed herself flat against the corner wall.

"The Young Master is pretty tough himself, isn't he? Well, of course—His Grace's blood flows through him, so he wouldn't be ordinary."

"Obviously. And with Lady Esclife too, you think he went out for a walk because he wanted to? He has to make a good impression, that's why. The kid's a real schemer, young as he is."

"But still, is it really okay for the Countess to so openly torment the Young Master like that? What's she going to do if His Grace finds out?"

"Didn't you hear what she said? The Countess is such a meticulous person. She made it clear from the start that she wouldn't use corporal punishment unless the Young Master wanted it. What could the Young Master possibly say to that?"

"True... With the Young Master's personality, he wouldn't go running to His Grace to tattle about being hit by the Countess. Even if His Grace somehow found out, she could just say the Young Master agreed to the corporal punishment, right?"

"Ugh, everyone in the Ruvermonte family scares me."

The maid who had been shuddering and rubbing both shoulders suddenly startled.

From the corner at the end of the corridor where she thought no one was, Lady Esclife's maid Ann—who had apparently overheard the entire conversation—suddenly emerged.

Ann appeared before the two flustered maids and approached them with a composed smile, as if to reassure them.

"You're both working hard today. Just finished tidying the Young Master's room?"

Ann acted as if she'd heard nothing, but the two maids weren't fools. They floundered with still-flustered expressions.

Ann moved closer to them and spoke.

"...Did Countess Gaspel mistreat the Young Master?"

"W-we don't really know."

"We should go."

Ann blocked the path of the maids who were hastily trying to leave.

"It's not like anything terrible will happen just because I know, and you didn't torment the Young Master, so why are you so flustered? I just hate being bored and I'm curious about a lot of things. Can't you tell me what happened?"

The two maids exchanged glances while continuing to be wary of Ann.

Ann, smiling faintly, pulled a small bundle from her sleeve. It was the accessories Aisha had prepared for her.

"I'm going to be staying at the ducal castle from now on too, so let's not be like this and get a little friendly."

"So that's what happened..."

Tap, tap.

I sat lost in thought, quietly drumming my fingers on the table.

Right now, which is to say, I was.

Angry.

Angry to a degree I'd never experienced in either my past life or this one.

"M-Miss..."

Ann looked at me nervously with a frightened expression.

Aisha Esclife had a reasonably pretty face, but since her expressions were rather blank, from the outside she seemed cold and sharp-tempered.

Having crumpled that face up like a wrinkled piece of paper, I didn't need to look in a mirror to know how terrifying I must look right now.

Yes, right now, I was truly angry.

"His feet... you said."

"Miss, you had no idea when you went out for the walk. You're not feeling guilty again, are you?"

As soon as Abel and I returned to my room after finishing our walk, before I could even lie down from exhaustion, I was shocked by the news Ann brought.

'Apparently she gave corporal punishment under the pretext of etiquette education. They said she beat his feet so severely that the skin split open, causing swelling and bleeding.'

'When they were wiping up the blood spilled on the floor... they said the bucket they wrung the rag into turned bright red.'

A ten-year-old child is fragile and precious. If there's wrongdoing, the first step should be to talk and teach with words.

Ever since I'd imagined having children someday, I'd always thought that way.

To explain what made me think like that, I couldn't avoid recalling memories from my past life, shabby as they were.

My father occasionally drank, and my mother—who was responsible for the family's livelihood—was under a lot of stress.

My childhood as their only daughter wasn't very happy.

I was hit often, and I heard insults I didn't even understand the meaning of at that age, day after day.

Perhaps because of memories of not being loved in the past, I wanted all the more desperately to love someone.

My devotion to fandom was along similar lines.

Because I'd long thought that maybe if I worked hard enough, the other person would love me back too.

After I grew up, I lived compromising moderately with those harsh memories.

They were still my parents, so I couldn't live without seeing them at all, and although it was only when they brought living expenses, they did occasionally say they were sorry.

Quite a bit of time had passed, so I'd already forgiven them and thought I was fine about it deep down.

But I wasn't.

'Grown-up Abel probably just thought like me—what's good is good.'

How could those harsh memories of abuse simply fade away as mere past events?

Even after reaching an age where I was no longer hit by my parents, I occasionally still dreamed of my childhood.

That was probably trauma created by a wounded heart that thought it had forgiven but hadn't been able to.

My parents definitely abused me when I was young.

Even if over time we both buried it and lived on, past memories shouldn't be justified or romanticized.

That's why, separate from understanding the life of the woman named Agatha Gaspel, I couldn't overlook her excessive abuse.

Because the person who could best understand Abel's unhappy childhood might be only me.

"M-Miss? What are you planning to do?"

Ann looked at me with frightened eyes as I stood up abruptly with an expressionless face.

"I'm going to see the Countess."

"Huk! No, Miss... Calm down a bit. How about settling your mind and thinking it over more? The Countess isn't just any countess, she's..."

"The Countess is what? I'm going to be Abel's mother soon, and I'll be the mistress of this ducal castle. Ann."

Abel's father clearly told me yesterday.

That it was fine to act a bit more as I pleased, even unreasonably.

"I was mistaken about something, Ann."

"...About what?"

If I still had any thoughts left at this point about getting along well with a child abuser, that would be proof I'd lost my mind.

"I've never once succeeded, you know."

Why, that game I thought of the moment I met the Countess—the kind where you have to raise a character's affection to see the ending.

Come to think of it, I...

"I'll be back."

Whether from lack of patience or what, I'd never once successfully cleared that type of game.