The people who had been at the training grounds gradually returned to the mansion, one by one.
I'd meant to spend a little time alone in my room, too.
But an unexpected guest kept me from doing so.
"Drinking in broad daylight—you really are Master's friend, aren't you."
"I'm a bit more particular about time and place than that man."
"I'll grant you that. At the very least, I doubt Lord Craig would fill his flask with liquor instead of water and stroll down the street drinking it."
"That man would do exactly that, and more."
With a hearty laugh, Oden tilted his whiskey glass, round ice cubes floating inside, and said nothing more.
His expression suggested he had plenty to say.
"Abel, was it? That whelp."
"Yes."
"From what I saw, he's been giving your nephew quite a hard time."
"Your nephew."
He surely knew full well that Abel was also my nephew by blood. The fact that he phrased it that way meant he'd seen through the fact that I didn't treat Abel as one.
"So you noticed after all."
"Anyone who saw that scene and didn't notice would have to have knots for eyes."
"It's been going on for quite some time. To be precise, it isn't just Abel—my sister-in-law, his mother, Cassdia, is complicit as well."
"I see. So that's why you didn't bring up that child when we first met."
As if the pieces were falling into place in his mind, Oden nodded flatly.
"A shame."
"It is."
"Did you know about this and simply stand by?"
"No. I didn't know, back then."
"I want to say that doesn't make sense, but somehow, coming from you, I believe it."
As if by some unspoken agreement, we both gave a bitter smile at the same time.
He was right—at least, "Baal Argent" hadn't known about this.
Back when I lived in the main house, before Yoo Sin-woo's memories had surfaced.
Back then, I really had lived and breathed nothing but magic.
I'd go into the underground workshop and even take my meals there; there were times I didn't step outside to feel the sun for a whole month.
And the moment I came of age, I'd fled the house and taken shelter under my current Master.
*If my memories from my past life hadn't surfaced...*
I'd probably still be living in ignorance even now.
I'd never have gotten entangled with the people of House Argent.
And in particular, I would have let one girl's unhappy life slip by without ever standing in its way—no, without even noticing it at all.
"So I intend to set it right, even now, late as it is."
"You can do it. That child seems quite fond of you these days."
"That pleases me. Ah, speaking of which, not long ago, Lord Craig—"
"Oden will do."
"Ah, yes. Lord Oden."
This old man, granting me use of his given name—now that's unusual.
He was famous for never allowing such familiarity except to those he'd truly acknowledged.
Did that mean he'd taken something of a liking to me?
I didn't know the reason, but either way, it was welcome news.
There was no harm in growing closer to Oden.
Even though he'd turned me down once, I could keep pressing him about taking Lyriette on as a disciple.
"So, what was it you were going to say?"
"Yes. I recently came to understand something you said before, Lord Oden. I apologize for showing you such an unworthy version of myself back then."
"You've already seen it? I thought it would take quite a while longer."
Oden's mouth fell slightly open, genuine surprise plain on his face.
Well, of course—I didn't have eyes like his, after all.
Even in the original story, there were only three people who could see through Star's Blessing.
My Master, Godwin Rowell.
The Sword Saint, Oden Craig.
And the original story's heroine, Tiana Delphine.
Everyone else might have suspected, however dimly, that some kind of blessing existed—but they couldn't perceive exactly what it was.
Naturally, I belonged to the latter group as well.
Still, since I had knowledge of the original story, it was an advantage that I didn't need to peer into what Lyriette's blessing actually was.
"Thanks to that, I've come to understand why you refused to be her teacher, Lord Oden. It must feel strange indeed to realize your disciple admires someone other than yourself."
"...Hm? Admires?"
"What's wrong? Was there some misunderstanding—"
"No, no. Admires, hm! Depending on how you look at it, I suppose that's one way to see it. My reason for refusing was somewhat different, but there's some truth in what you say."
If you're going to sit a man down in front of you, at least speak loud enough for him to hear.
Muttering to himself like that just left me needlessly frustrated.
Ah, I should have cast a hearing-enhancement spell beforehand.
Or at the very least, recorded it somehow.
"In any case, for that reason, I intend to stay by that friend's side for the time being."
"'For the time being.' Odd choice of words. Does that mean you intend to send her off someday?"
"Hah, what are you saying? Surely you, too, have sent a beloved daughter off into another man's arms at some point, Lord Oden."
When I threw in a bit of teasing banter, Oden gave me an odd look.
For a moment I worried I'd said something foolish in front of an old man who, deep down, might be a doting fool for his own daughter.
Thankfully, that didn't seem to be the case, and he soon returned to his usual composed manner.
"Well, that's something you can decide as time goes on. Though I'm not sure it'll be yours to decide."
"Sir?"
"Never mind. In any case, don't go saying things like that carelessly in front of that friend. Right now isn't the time to look ahead to the future—what matters is the reality that you're there beside her."
Well, that's true enough.
Whether, in the future, Lyriette comes to love Leon as she did in the original story,
or whether she falls for some entirely different man—that's not really any concern of mine.
I only wish for Lyriette to be happy.
And for that very reason, I intend to remain by her side until that happiness is achieved.
That much, at least, will never change.
Just as I was renewing that resolve—
"Ah, it's time for the carriage. I'm not the type to keep others waiting, so I'll take my leave first."
Oden pulled a pocket watch from within his robes, checked the time, and rose from his seat.
Right. Today was the day he was leaving.
I'd been so consumed with the matter concerning Lyriette that I'd completely forgotten.
I'd thought his clothing seemed a bit thicker than before—so he'd already finished preparing to head back.
"Take the rest of the liquor with you. It'll be lonely traveling alone; you should at least have a drinking companion."
"'Drinking companion'—is that what they call it these days? Heh, I like the sound of that. Very well, I'll accept your kindness and take a fine drinking companion along with me. No need to see me out."
"Yes. Thank you truly, Lord Oden. I'll come visit you again sometime."
I bowed politely in farewell, and Oden gave a small chuckle before turning away.
"I expect I'll come to you before you ever make it to me. Just imagining how quickly that child will grow is enough to keep me up at night. Ah, right—give her my regards for me."
"I will. And next time we meet, please call her by her name—Lyriette. She'll be far happier for it."
"I'll consider it."
And without so much as turning his head, he waved a hand idly and left the room.
Well then, time to go see our little princess.
***
Just as I expected, Lyriette was sitting alone in her room.
I'd stolen—no, I mean, brought along—a few snacks from the kitchen, and the way her face lit up made her look every bit the child she was.
"Is it good?"
"Yes. Won't you have some too, Uncle?"
"I'm not much for sweets, myself."
"Ah..."
In my past life, I hadn't disliked sweets nearly that much.
I suppose the longer I lived as Baal Argent, the more my palate had changed as well.
When I gently refused, Lyriette pouted, clearly disappointed.
She'd probably wanted to share the taste of the cookies she was so enjoying.
Well, there was no helping it.
"Then perhaps I'll take just one."
"Ah, here! You can have as many as you like!"
"No, one should be enough."
"Aww... okay."
Just how much did she want to feed me, exactly.
I nearly burst out laughing, but managed to hold it in as I chewed on the cookie.
Not a bad taste, actually.
Not nearly as sweet as I'd expected, either.
"Your sister-in-law came to see you, didn't she?"
"Eh? H-how did you know that...?"
"It wasn't hard to guess. What did she say?"
"...She didn't say much of anything, really. Her expression was very strange, though."
So that was how it went, then.
Even Cassdia would have had a hard time laying into her in that situation.
But praising her outright would have been just as uncomfortable, I imagine.
"Um, Uncle."
"Hm?"
"There's something I wanted to ask you."
"Go ahead."
Ah, here it comes at last.
Ever since we'd parted at the training grounds earlier, I'd more or less guessed at what was on Lyriette's mind from her expression.
"Uncle, you knew about Brother's plan and didn't tell me, didn't you?"
"That's right."
"And at the same time, you were quietly looking for a way to reveal his plan to everyone and see him held accountable for it, weren't you?"
"That's right. Clever girl."
Normally, whenever I praised her, Lyriette would melt on the spot.
But in this moment, she simply looked up at me calmly.
"If I hadn't noticed something was wrong with the wooden sword back then, what would you have done?"
"That much I could have handled myself. I would have fixed it right before the match began."
"So you never intended to tell me, no matter what."
"That's right. Does that upset you?"
Lyriette shook her head.
Her lips were pressed tightly together, as if she were holding something back.
"No. If you'd done that, it would've all ended too quietly, and there'd have been no way to reveal Brother's wrongdoing to everyone. I'm actually grateful for it."
"Glad to hear it."
"But..."
The hands resting on her lap curled into fists.
They trembled faintly—she looked almost as if she were a little angry.
"...I overheard the servants talking secretly, earlier."
"That I humiliated Abel too openly, without a shred of mercy?"
"Ah, you already knew?"
"There's no way I wouldn't."
I'd expected as much from the very start.
Of course, Abel truly was garbage of the highest order.
But his reputation within the mansion was, surprisingly, not bad at all.
No—not just "not bad." He was actually well-regarded, if anything.
That was thanks to his particularly skillful image management.
Cheerful personality, sociable, skilled with the sword.
Handsome enough, too, and impeccably polite.
Thanks to all that, hardly anyone would ever have thought him unfit to be the heir of House Argent.
It's no wonder that among fans of the original story, one of the most popular "what if" scenarios was always "what if Abel had truly reformed."
No matter how much wrongdoing he'd committed himself,
exposing his shame in front of the servants and outside guests like that was bound to leave people with a less-than-favorable impression of me.
*If only I'd been the older brother, perhaps it would have been different.*
Even I didn't have the best reputation within the household, if I was honest.
Back when I lived in the main house, I'd been utterly consumed by magic, hadn't shown the faintest interest in anyone else, and certainly hadn't been known for good manners.
The Argent family's black sheep, returning belatedly only to stir up chaos in the household, versus the heir apparent—chosen to succeed as head of the family despite being only twelve.
People would naturally warm to the latter, I suppose.
"Then why did you go that far? If I'd simply beaten Brother in an ordinary match, at the very least, Uncle, you wouldn't have—"
"I wouldn't have had to hear much unpleasant talk, and it would've ended cleanly enough. But listen, Lyriette."
I looked down at her and offered as warm a smile as I could manage.
For the sake of a child who, no doubt, felt even more anxious than I did.
"If we'd left it at that, it would only have happened again. Do you really think Abel is the type to break just because he lost to you once?"
"...No."
"That's right. If anything, he'd have tormented you even worse afterward. Even if he never dared challenge you with a sword again, he'd have spread nasty rumors behind your back—claiming you used some sort of trick, or worse."
"It's fine. Something like that, I could—"
"No."
I cut Lyriette off as she tried, once again, to react with forced indifference.
"It's not fine with me."
"With... you, Uncle?"
"That's right. How could I possibly stand by while people whisper behind the back of my beloved niece?"
"..."
I gently stroked the head of the now-silent Lyriette.
A warmth seemed to seep into my chest.
"Besides, no matter how shameless Abel might be, being called out in front of that many people is bound to leave some impression on him."
"Did you want to reform Brother, Uncle?"
"Who knows."
I hadn't particularly thought of it as reforming him.
And I couldn't say with any confidence that it was even possible.
Still, it was probably the surest way to resolve the fundamental problem Lyriette faced.
Otherwise, it would simply happen again and again.
"Anyway, as you said, the people whispering behind my back are only a tiny handful. So I simply weighed my options—whether to endure a bit of unpleasant talk myself, or to free my dear niece from that trap completely."
"Doesn't honor matter to you, Uncle?"
"No, it matters. There may be people in this world with no greed for money, but very few with no thirst for honor."
I'd devoted my whole life to magic, true enough, but that didn't make me some emotionless puppet devoid of all other desires.
I, too, have a hunger for honor. A hunger for possessions.
It's just that—
"But if you're asking whether that kind of honor matters more to me than my beloved niece, then the answer is no."
"Someone like me being more precious than your honor, Uncle—that can't possibly be true."
"Why not?"
"I—I'm just House Argent's failure of a—wah!?"
Without a word, I scooped Lyriette up into my arms, and she let out a sound not unlike a newly hatched chick's cry.
I barely managed to hold back a laugh as our eyes met.
Lyriette turned away, her face flushed apple-red with embarrassment.
"Then why don't you prove it to me instead?"
"Prove it?"
"Yes. Prove that I wasn't wrong to throw away a bit of my honor to protect you. Become someone truly remarkable—not for your own sake, but for the sake of my honor."
"Ah..."
Lyriette must have understood the meaning behind my words.
She was still weak, after all.
Even with the help I'd given her, it wasn't as though all her trauma had simply washed away, transforming her overnight into some confident heroine.
To begin with, human nature doesn't change so easily.
That's precisely why I had taken on the burden myself, for the time being—
becoming, temporarily, the target of that sense of duty and ambition that should have been sleeping within this child all along, the very first thing she'd need in order to truly change.
If the Sword's Yearning slumbering inside Lyriette really was directed toward me, then perhaps—for my sake, rather than her own—she'd find the courage to take one more step forward.
"Is that really all it takes?"
"That's right."
"Someone like me might never manage to achieve it, even in a whole lifetime."
"Then I'll cheer you on from your side for that whole lifetime. We made a promise, didn't we?"
I raised my pinky finger and asked, half in jest, and only then did Lyriette's lips finally curve into a smile.
"...That's true. We did make a promise."
*Thump!*
At that moment, I thought I heard the loud sound of a heartbeat echo from somewhere.
It wasn't coming from me.
I turned my head, searching for its source, when—
"I'll prove it. For your sake, Uncle."
I lost the words in my throat, staring into Lyriette's eyes.
Because there, reflected within them, my own form had grown a little clearer—and a little larger than before.