Youngest 047

Episode 47

A space surrounded by a tall fence, with great evergreens bending over as if in watchful guard—a place with a strangely somber atmosphere.

“Ah. That’s…”

Void wore a look of utter discomfort.

“…It’s the garden of the Nameless Zevert.”

“What…”

I started to ask, then stopped short.

The Nameless Zevert.

Its meaning was plain.

‘That must be Mister Leviathan’s baby’s grave.’

I rose on tiptoe and peeked between the slats of the fence. A shaft of bright sunlight poured down onto the spot where a black gravestone lay in the distance.

“There are flowers placed there. Was it Mister?”

“Father… he never comes to this grave. It’s probably Grandfather.”

“Why doesn’t Mister come?”

“Who knows.”

He mustn’t have healed from his wounds just yet.

The thought came to me, vacant and unbidden.

Well, adults aren’t invincible, after all.

“Look, the gravekeeper’s coming! If we get caught, it’ll be a pain.”

“Why?”

“Oh, she’s a witch. There’s a rumor she doesn’t speak to anyone and eats up kids who come to the memorial ground.”

“Eh?”

Anyone can tell that’s just a wild tale, spread so you don’t go poking around here.

A woman with chestnut-brown hair streaming down pulled her gray robe low over her brow, a sickle in one hand as she approached. There was something almost spectral about her.

“Let’s go, Ruby! Quick, get on my back.”

“Okay.”

For the last time, I gazed at the small headstone.

“…”

My hand drifted to the pin tucked beside my hair.

‘Just a little… just for a moment.’

What I wanted to say, I had no idea; I just wished it quietly inside.

The black gravestone seemed to cast a shadow, forever snagging at my ankles.

Once our field training was over and as soon as we returned to the mansion, both Mister and Grandfather summoned us. Naturally, Void came too.

“Wow! Woooow!”

The moment we entered the drawing room, Void bounded about like a colt set free.

Grandfather swelled his chest and huffed, pleased.

“You like it?”

“It’s a-a-amazing!”

The sword gleamed and shimmered, brilliant with tiny blue gems embedded in its hilt. It was more than enough to captivate Void’s heart.

“So, what about you, little snot?”

“…”

For a moment, speech escaped me.

It was because I was looking at the sword before my eyes.

So… this is mine?

“Oh, this. Oh… I mean…”

Like a fool, I just kept repeating myself. Because this was—

‘This is the ceremonial sword handed down through the Zevert family!’

It looked a bit older and rougher than Void’s, but perhaps because of the cool blue aura enveloping it, I could sense tremendous power radiating from the blade.

The Zevert family crest was engraved on the hilt.

A lion painstakingly wrought, and a large, blood-red gem set at its heart.

“Oh… I, um… why would you give this to me, though?”

“Nothing I made seemed to please me. Tsk. Looks like I still have a ways to go.”

Grandfather truly sounded vexed.

“But still… a treasure? For me?”

Isn’t this what the family head is supposed to use?!

I whipped around to look at Mister, but the proud master of the house only tilted his head with a serene indifference. What’s with that satisfied face?

“The family head uses a separate blade. This one’s traditionally passed on to the true heir, I suppose.”

So then why me—

“Ah, what’s the difference? These days, if you fuss too much about tradition, it’s no good. Everyone should wield what suits them best!”

The Zevert family’s old-timer chimed in…

“Keep it safe until the right time. Don’t get too close for now; it’s still dangerous. Understand?”

Listening to Grandfather’s advice, I gazed at the Zevert sword, shyly set on the table.

He said it’s the heirloom sword, but it was certainly smaller than the one Mister carried.

While I sat there, struck dumb, Mister spoke up in a purposely stern tone.

“Both of you must look after yours responsibly. Understood?”

“Yes, Father!”

Void already looked absolutely enamored with his sword.

“Polish it every day, keep it clean, dry it in the sun from time to time—it’s not enough just to have it by your side.”

A pet… no, a companion sword?

“Yes, yes! I’ll remember!”

“And you, Ruby?”

“Yes…”

It got harder and harder to play along with these fools, so I just answered simply.

Fine, I’ll keep it safe and give it back later if I have to.

“Grandfather, I want to start training right away! I’ll become a man worthy of this blade!”

“What’s this! Now that’s what I like to hear! Bring the boy with the wooden sword, too!”

“Yessir!”

Void and Grandfather, for once a perfect pair, vanished like the wind.

I watched them go, then slumped back in my chair.

Mister glanced sideways at me.

“Doesn’t look like you’re pleased. But even if it’s worn, that’s a valuable one, you know.”

Pfft. I was left speechless.

“It’s not about liking or not—it’s about why you’d just hand something so precious to someone else…”

“Why would you be ‘someone else’?”

Mister unfolded his arms, leaning toward me. His voice dropped to a gentle murmur.

“You’re going to take the Zevert name.”

Ah.

A feeling of sudden unfamiliarity washed over me as I slowly blinked.

“Isn’t that right?”

“Y-yes…”

So, this is how it happens.

That’s right.

To become the true youngest in this house meant taking the Zevert name, and that, in turn, meant I’d become real family with Mister Leviathan, so…

‘Wait a minute.’

Suddenly… it all became overwhelmingly real…

Overcome by an indescribable sensation, I stared at the sword on the table, its presence now heavier and more substantial than ever before. And that black, tiny gravestone I’d seen at the memorial kept flickering in my thoughts.

Honestly, all of a sudden…

“The way you address me, too, Ruby.”

“Hm?”

“Maybe it’s time you tried changing it.”

Leviathan crossed his long legs and spoke. On his striking features, an odd expectation lingered.

So that means…

‘He wants me to call him… Dad?’

I tried hard to ignore the hesitant anxiety welling up inside, and slowly nodded.

Well, just a title.

How hard could it be?

“A…”

“A?”

“A…”

As the refrain of A—A—A dragged on, Mister’s eyebrow rose high.

“A?”

“A… the, uh, night pie was delicious!”

His eyes flicked toward the table.

“There isn’t any.”

I quickly added,

“The one from yesterday!”

“Ruby.”

Wince. What am I even doing?

It felt like something was caught tight in my throat, making speech impossible. Inside my head, everything had already drained to blank.

Unable to bear it, I shot up from my seat.

“Sorry, Da—”

The word I’d meant to say—Mister—stuck fast on my lips.

‘This is bad.’

Now I can’t even say ‘Mister’ anymore!

To my own surprise, I was the one thrown off by this sudden malfunction.

“I—I’m busy, so I’ll be off now!”

Whoosh.

I knew I shouldn’t have run like that, but I fled the drawing room, leaving a bewildered nobleman in my wake.

What do I do! I can’t speak!

Someone, please fix me!

And my oddities didn’t stop there.

“Ah!”

“…”

“…Want some bread?”

“I would if there were any.”

That’s what I said to Mister, who sat behind a stack of documents.

“Ruby, where are you off to?”

“Uh! Ah!”

“…”

“I’ll be quick as lightning! Sorry!”

—then darted away.

“Good morning! Ah!”

“…”

“Bam. See my new hairpin?”

—showing off a butterfly-shaped pin in my hair… (It was the worst.)

Because of all this, Mister had no choice but to seek out Borvel, the famed physician of the North.

“I think my youngest is well and truly broken.”

Fix her.

He tucked me under his arm and barged straight into the medical office, issuing orders like a thug.