Youngest 056
by CristaeChapter 56
Rubian seemed to have regained a bit of confidence.
“Tada. There are so many snacks here. Who do you think asked for all this to be prepared? Whose house do you think this is?”
“…The, the Duke Zevert’s house.”
Sortie jutted out her lower lip and answered in a small voice. Rubian grinned and handed over a handkerchief.
“Oh dear. Thank you for comforting our Titi. As expected, a child of House Zevert is something special.”
The count, who had been sweating nervously, finally let go of his child.
“All right, Titi. Stop clinging now and greet them properly.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Moving hesitantly, Sortie stood on the floor, eyes fixed on Rubian.
“I’m Sortie Camelan of Count Camelan’s family. I’m seven years old.”
At last, Rubian looked a little shy.
“I’m Rubian… eight…”
At that moment, one of Leviathan’s eyebrows shot up in a steep arc. I’m Rubian. That’s it?
What’s next?
Blinking, blinking. Sortie’s clear eyes studied Rubian’s face, moving as if to scrutinize every detail.
“Why do you only have half a name?”
Crack. The pure question froze the air.
Sortie tilted her head, glancing between Leviathan and Rubian. Her hair, tied in twin tails, tilted along with her head.
“And your hair color is different too. Titi’s is exactly like Daddy’s. That’s odd!”
“Titi, that’s enough…”
While the count gently scolded, Leviathan set down his teacup.
The moment he hastily reached toward Rubian’s back, who stood quietly in place—
“I’m going to be adopted, you see. Um, so… I’m not Mister’s real child.”
Her voice was clear and deliberate.
Rubian spun around. Her face was unbothered. Sortie cupped her cheeks and echoed “Oh?” in a wondering voice.
“Is that possible?”
“It is.”
“I see.”
Leviathan completed the movement he had started, pulling Rubian close.
“There are many ways to become family, young lady.”
Seated on his knee, Rubian tilted her head back, meeting his gaze with bright, innocent eyes. Blue as sapphire, her gaze filled his view.
“We may look a little different, but you’re my precious jewel. Could you be a good friend to her?”
So gentle was his invitation that Sortie instantly burst into a broad smile, as if she’d never cried.
“Yes! Thank you for explaining, Your Grace!”
Family… Rubian silently mouthed the word with her small lips. Leviathan poked one soft cheek.
She returned a sharp glare, but as ever, it was nothing short of adorable.
While the two adults spoke briefly about business, Rubian and Sortie shared the snacks.
“-Then let’s discuss the Verdant Festival. In truth, the security in Ipsen hasn’t been good lately, so I’ve requested some knights. There’s been a rise in certain crimes… Oh, you rascal.”
“Hehe, Daddy’s whiskers.”
At some point, Sortie had crawled over and was braiding Count Camelan’s long beard, laughing all the while.
“She really is the youngest—spoiled rotten, and getting naughtier by the day. My apologies.”
Leviathan assured him it was fine and turned to look beside him.
Rubian was chewing on a cream puff, her eyes sparkling.
That looks good…?
He murmured something under his breath, but its meaning was unclear.
“Ruby, are you bored? Want to go play outside? I think this talk might go on for a while.”
“Okay! Lady Camelan, would you like to come too?”
Well now. She’s only a year older but already extending her hand first…
“Ah.”
Leviathan suddenly frowned.
A boy and a girl… is it all right for them to just grab hands like that?
He found himself glancing at Count Camelan. The count only looked pleased.
‘Is this really okay?’
If she were my daughter…
Clatter.
“Um… Your Excellency? Why are you reaching for your sword all of a sudden…?”
“Ahem, it’s nothing.”
Leviathan forced himself to release the sword he’d unconsciously gripped tightly.
Strange. My insides keep churning…
“We’ll just be in the garden out front!”
“…All right.”
Leviathan clasped his hands together and nodded.
Rubian, seemingly having opened up, chattered away to Sortie.
“This garden is really beautiful. Could you show me that braid you just did?”
“The beard one? Sure!”
“I really can’t stand all that stubble…”
“Oh my. Under beard attack, are we?”
The two walked away hand in hand, getting along splendidly.
‘Well…’
They’re cute, so that’s good enough.
After the children left, in the parlor.
Leviathan spoke, his face calm.
“So, what exactly is happening in Ipsen these days?”
“Oh, the crime, yes. There have been a few attempted kidnappings reported lately… With the Verdant Festival drawing in outsiders, I wanted to be extra prepared.”
“I brought plenty of knights. Assign however many you need.”
“Ah, thank you.”
The count gave a relieved smile, hiding his face behind his teacup as he stole a glance at the man across from him.
The first thing that struck him was how remarkably handsome he was.
The next was fear.
Though he lounged in loose attire, his posture exuded the particular arrogance of one born to rule.
The count swallowed dryly, unable to help himself.
He knew all too well just how much blood those steady hands gripping the teacup could summon forth.
‘The war fiend.’
Even knowing him as the hero of mankind, he could not erase that word from his mind.
He had once visited the frontlines by chance to inspect supplies. What he witnessed there was a demon in human form.
Black hair soaked in blood, moving across the wasteland. The silver blade slicked red with gore, and wherever he went, blood and flesh stained the earth behind him.
‘What chilled me to the core was his expression, utterly devoid of emotion.’
It was as though he wielded the sword by instincts branded into his very being.
‘Compared to then… he has mellowed astonishingly.’
He could never have imagined seeing him sitting here sipping tea.
‘Maybe it’s because the war is over, or perhaps…’
The count set down his cup with a face of composure.
Just now, was it because of the child?
“But why kidnapping all of a sudden?”
Leviathan reclined in his chair as he asked. The count quickly banished his thoughts and replied lightly.
“Well… There are rumors that a fugitive mage from the Mage Kingdom is a young girl.”
In that instant, the very air turned razor-sharp, as if by magic.
“Some lunatics must think if they catch her and turn her over to the Mage Kingdom, they’ll get a reward. If not, they try to extort money from her parents…”
Leviathan’s brow furrowed deeply. The count, feeling cold sweat trickle down his back, hurried to add,
“We pursue the culprits day and night, so please try not to worry too much. So far, every attempt has failed. We’ll do everything to catch them before the festival.”
“Tell Oberon to deploy all the knights.”
Leviathan clicked his tongue harshly. Seeing the count’s face pale, he forcibly subdued the oppressive aura swirling around him.
‘A young girl mage?’
That means she must have run away to save her own life.
Did they really have to hound a mere child like that?
‘Those insane bastards in the kingdom.’
Leviathan let out a long breath. That was one more reason he needed to meet the emperor.
“You must feel anxious as well, Count. You have a young daughter, after all.”
“Phew. Yes… To be honest, if I can’t see her, I’m constantly anxious these days. You must feel the same, Your Excellency.”
“…?”
Leviathan gazed at him, puzzled.
“Rubian is my son.”
“Wh-what?”
Count Camelan looked as if he had seen a ghost.
“Come on now. That can’t be!”
“I know she’s pretty. Her cuteness pierces the heavens, of course.”
“…”
“She’s clever and astute. Speaks so well—even academy professors would be impressed. She can already run nearly four laps around the training grounds. Isn’t that amazing persistence? She’s already outstripped her teacher in herbology, and will soon in healing magic, too…”
“Yes. Thank you, I understand.”
A cold reply.
“No, there’s more. Listen—”
“It’s quite all right. I must have misunderstood something.”
Count Camelan shot to his feet. Leviathan felt deeply sorry to see the count pass over a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity so easily.
“Well. It’s not as though you’d take in a duke’s daughter so readily…”
Ahem! The count startled himself with his muttered aside and cleared his throat loudly.
“…”
Lost in his own thoughts, Leviathan didn’t even hear.
Come to think of it, he’d been hearing such comments often lately.
Even Evelyn, who came to take Rubian’s clothing order, had asked,
“A… boy, you say?”
Really? Truly?
That reluctant voice echoed in his ears like a distant memory.
‘What is this.’
Is there something I’m supposed to realize right now?