TMWDS Chapter 7

Once, she would have gone out of her way to smooth over Rihardt's ill mood. But her own way of thinking, from the very start, was different now.

Ionna no longer had any intention of twisting herself into knots trying to be the tongue in his mouth. That much had already been decided the moment she'd chosen to stand at the Duke's side.

She meant to see this marriage through to a full success this time, not ruin it the way she had before—and that, precisely, meant standing against Rihardt.

'Even if it meant denying her entire past life, whole.'

To the old master who would never once doubt her loyalty, she was sorry to say—she didn't feel anything close to grief about it.

"This is an insult. Not even bothering to give us a guide—is this some kind of joke?"

"If we'd had a guide, it would've felt like being watched. This is better."

"Would it kill you to just shut up while we walk? Is that really so much to ask?"

"Yes, and I'm starting to regret it, too. With anyone else, you'd probably have had the sense to keep quiet."

Leroy answered without bothering to hide his exhaustion.

Yonas, who'd been glued to his side griping the whole way, finally shut his mouth. Then he shot his lord a look with real venom behind it.

If one had to translate that betrayed expression, it would come out to something like, "How could you say that to someone who's devoted body and soul to your service..."

But rather than humor his retainer's sulking, Leroy chose to ignore him.

He'd already been in a foul mood the entire trip over this abruptly-decided marriage, as it was.

Who could have predicted that the head of House Hance, once called the finest of the great houses, would be treated this way inside the palace?

Looking back, there were several turning points he could name—but if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that this whole chain of trouble had also started with a marriage.

House Hance had, from long ago, maintained close, friendly ties with their neighboring territory, House Schmidt.

The two houses had been unusually intimate for nearly half a century, so much so that when their children happened to be born around the same time, the families had read far too much into the coincidence and arranged the match before either child could speak.

Thanks to that, Leroy had a fiancée who'd been betrothed to him since the year he was born. Closer, if anything, to a childhood friend than a lover.

The whole thing had erupted suddenly, seven years ago now, during an unusually long rainy season one summer.

House Schmidt had abruptly been accused of colluding with a foreign power and subjected to a brutal investigation.

Ledgers and registers, twisted into damning shapes, were "uncovered," and the Count's entire household was executed without warning.

The fallout spread to House Hance, still bound to them by the betrothal.

The Imperial family determined that House Hance, too, must have lent its strength to some treasonous plot.

They occupied the private estate under the pretext of investigation, dragged off close relatives and held them in custody. With operations paralyzed, the flow of capital was choked off along with it.

And then, with shocking suddenness, the former Duke and Duchess died in what was called an accident.

Not a single member of the ducal household believed it had happened by chance.

The investigation had already been dragging on without turning up any real evidence when it happened. Whoever wanted House Hance's decline must have needed some kind of result to show for it.

The house, having lost its center, collapsed quickly, and Leroy was left alone. Having lost, in the span of a single stretch, both his family and the family he'd been meant to marry into.

'A tragedy fit for a painting.'

Leroy muttered to himself, self-mockingly.

He often thought that the tragedy that had happened to him didn't feel entirely real, even now.

That was, if anything, exactly why he'd been able to throw everything he had into restoring his house's standing once he'd inherited the title.

He'd existed, all this time, in a state that was somehow abnormal, and there had been no living properly again without setting it right.

It was around the time the family name everyone had once whispered about behind closed doors had begun, slowly, to reclaim its old standing that word had come down from the Imperial family—good news dressed up to disguise a fresh blow.

Marry him off—of all people—to the Empire's famous hound. The intent to collar him under the guise of reconciliation was plain.

The instant he'd heard his bride's name, Leroy thought this might turn out to be more farce than tragedy.

Of all women, her.

Ionna Modrov—the woman everyone called Crown Prince Rihardt's loyal hound.

A normal marriage with her was out of the question from the start—he might well end up worrying whether his own throat was safe every time he lay down to sleep.

If there was one question he had, it was whether she'd had any say at all in this choice of bride.

"Someday the Crown Prince will regret treating you this way, my lord."

Yonas muttered gloomily.

Leroy agreed with him without much enthusiasm, but reached out an arm to stop his subordinate, as if warning him off.

Leroy whispered, cautioning:

"Someone's coming."

Footsteps were drawing closer, somewhere down the hall.

It wouldn't do at all for a careless slip to let their disloyal words leak out.

Yonas went instantly quiet. The two of them walked on down the corridor, casual as though nothing had happened.

Right on cue, a woman appeared around the corner.

Judging by the blue uniform she wore, she seemed to be an Imperial-affiliated knight.

But what actually let Leroy place her wasn't the uniform so much as her hair—silver, transparent as a mirror's glass.

Ionna Modrov?

The woman seemed to have spotted them too, freezing in place with a startled look on her face.

For a moment, Leroy could have sworn—impossible as it was—that something almost like joy had colored her expression.

It must have been his imagination. By the time he collected himself and looked again, her face had returned to a perfectly composed blank.

Rather than ignore them and walk past, she strode straight up and came to a stop.

Then, in a tone of unexpected formality, she said:

"An honor to meet you for the first time. Ionna Modrov, of the Imperial Knights. By any chance, are you on your way to see His Highness?"

Yonas blinked, dumbly, taking in her introduction with a blank look on his face.

There was no help to be expected from his stunned subordinate. Leroy stepped slightly in front of Yonas and answered:

"That's right. I hadn't expected we'd meet again like this, by chance. A pleasure, Knight Ionna."

"Have we had the pleasure of meeting before?"

"I make my way to the capital from time to time, as it happens."

"Forgive me for not remembering."

The woman apologized, hiding her embarrassment.

She genuinely seemed not to recall their earlier meeting.

That was understandable enough, in a way, so Leroy wasn't especially disappointed.

What he was actually curious about was why she'd bothered to greet him as if pleased to see him at all. They weren't the sort of acquaintances who exchanged friendly small talk.

And yet Ionna, as if entirely unaware of the delicate tension sitting between them, went so far as to offer to escort him.

"I'd hate to intrude on your time, but would you allow me the honor of guiding you to your destination, Your Grace?"

He had no way of knowing what she was thinking, but at least it didn't seem like a lack of tact on her part.

She'd quickly grasped the trouble they'd just run into and offered to help. And in a way that wouldn't cost either of them their dignity, at that.

"Kind of you, but I'll decline. I know the way well enough—I wouldn't want to waste the time of someone with better things to do."

Of course, whether or not to accept that puzzling kindness was another matter entirely.

Leroy delivered a clean refusal and was about to take his leave when something happened he hadn't expected in the least.

The woman's face fell, plainly disappointed.

"I'm not actually all that busy at the moment, though..."

An awkward silence settled between them.

By all rights it was Ionna's turn to step aside first, but she simply stood there, planted in front of him.

She seemed, if anything, to be hoping Leroy would change his mind and accept her company.

Unable to bear it any longer, Yonas cut in, his voice awkward.

"Ha, ha. Well, shall we get going, then?"

Only then did Ionna seem to notice they were in an awkward position, and she hurried to clear the way.

She saluted Leroy, snapping into a precise stance.

"Then I'll take my leave. Safe travels."

Leroy and Yonas passed her by, both left in some vaguely bewildered, uncomfortable mood.

Once they'd put a reasonable distance between them, Yonas let out the breath he'd been holding.

He murmured, in a voice utterly at a loss:

"...She's... nice?"