The day the truth of House Argent came to light.
And now, a month had already passed since then.
A month, and warmth had settled over the Argent family, and the once-awkward relationship between parent and child had instantly returned to normal….
"…Lyriette, young master. Off to your training, are you?"
"Yes, Mother."
"Yes, sister-in-law."
"Good. Take care, and be safe. Young master, I'm sorry to trouble you, but please look after Lyriette."
"Don't worry."
"We'll be back soon, Mother."
…Of course, nothing like that ever happened.
It was only that things had gotten a little better than before.
There was still a faint, awkward distance between them.
Even when they crossed paths in the hallway, there was hardly any conversation.
At best, they exchanged a few short words like the ones above—that was all.
The funny thing was, Abel had actually gotten along fine with Cassdia before.
But ever since that incident, things had grown more awkward between the two of them, if anything.
Because it had come out that one of the reasons Abel had turned hostile toward Lyriette was because of Cassdia.
As it turned out, back when Lyriette had begun to resemble Viola more and more as she grew, and Cassdia had been hostile toward her, Cassdia had apparently badmouthed her quite a bit in front of Abel.
Not that this meant Abel was entirely innocent, of course.
It just meant he, too, had been a victim to some degree.
But perhaps that was precisely why—
at least as far as their sibling relationship went, it seemed to have recovered somewhat compared to before.
Thwack! Screech—!
"Brother, you're slow."
"Ngh!"
Whack!
Abel took another hit from the wooden sword to his side and rolled across the ground.
Today, it had seemed like the standoff might drag on a little longer, but in the end, it still came down to a single blow.
Lately, the two of them had started sparring to the point of being genuinely tiresome about it.
No—not just sparring. They'd taken to using the training grounds at the same time as well.
Since Abel wasn't really in a position to give Lyriette advice, most of that time was spent with Lyriette teaching Abel instead.
Still, watching the two siblings sweat it out together, training side by side, it felt like the gears that had once ground against each other were finally, if only slightly, beginning to mesh. It was a genuinely heartwarming sight.
"Again. One more round, Lyriette."
"I'm fine with that, but are you all right, Brother? That'll be your seventh time today already."
"This is the only way I'll ever beat you. Galling as that is to admit."
And Abel had developed more grit than I'd expected.
He was a completely different person from before.
There was a time when one hit from Lyriette would send him sprawling, unable to get back up.
Now, he somehow managed to scrape together the strength to charge in again, more often than not.
Though he still hadn't managed to win a single round.
"Haah, haah… Good work, Brother."
"Hah, haaah… You too. Damn it, still no wins today either."
"If you keep working this hard, you'll catch up soon."
"Being encouraged by a little sister two years my junior—it does something complicated to a man's heart."
Anyway, the sparring ended well enough, and the two shook hands before tidying up their gear.
I picked up a towel and walked over, holding it out to Lyriette.
"Good work. Your movements keep getting better."
"Do you really think so, Uncle?"
"Mm. Lord Oden would be proud."
"Myaah…!"
As I wiped down her drenched hair with the towel, Lyriette let out an odd little sound, like a cat being tickled.
She used to snatch the towel right back and insist on doing it herself whenever I tried to dry her off.
It was a little amusing to see her now taking such things completely in stride.
Whether it was that she'd grown more spoiled,
or that the distance between us had simply shrunk—I couldn't say.
"Are you going to see Father again today?"
"Yes."
"Then let's go together."
"Ooh, wonderful!"
When Lyriette smiled like that, it was as if flowers bloomed all around her.
She used to hold back a little on showing her feelings, I thought.
But these days she showed her innocent, radiant side so often, and that made me happy too.
It meant she'd changed a great deal—
both inside and out.
Just as a warm sense of pride was washing over me, something latched onto my arm with a soft plop.
For a moment I thought some enormous cicada had landed on me, but it was Lyriette.
There was a time when she hadn't minded when I casually stroked her hair or the like, but she'd never initiated physical contact like this herself.
She'd occasionally asked to be petted, sure.
But lately, she'd taken to clinging to me constantly.
Not that I minded, of course.
A cute niece's affection is always a delight to witness, no matter when.
I was simply a little curious whether something else had shifted in her heart.
"You've been sticking to me an awful lot lately."
"Does it bother you? I'm sorry."
"Not at all. There's no way my adorable niece's affection could ever bother me."
I waved my hands quickly at Lyriette, who'd flinched and started to pull away, and added,
"I was just curious. How did my shy little niece become so bold all of a sudden?"
"That's…"
For some reason, Lyriette's steps came to a halt right there.
At the same time, a faint shadow seemed to pass over her face, but—
"…It's nothing. I just love you so much, Uncle."
She returned so quickly to the Lyriette I knew that I didn't worry over it too much.
"I'm glad to hear it. Though I doubt you could ever outmatch this uncle's affection."
"That's not true! I love you even more, Uncle!"
"Now, now—even from my own dear niece, I can't let that one slide."
"Even from my uncle, who's as revered to me as the heavens, I can't concede on that point either."
What followed was a thoroughly childish little squabble, but it was good all the same.
No—it was good precisely because of that.
The fact that Lyriette and I had grown close enough to bicker over something so trivial, the fact that this child's heart had finally found some ease—both of those things made me glad.
—…come. I'll send… By the time…
Perhaps that was why.
The voice that flickered through my mind felt, just then, a little resentful.
***
Lately, Lyriette's daily routine had become fairly fixed.
Not that it was some mindless treadmill of a life, mind you.
It was simply that a few obligatory tasks had appeared in her day.
"Father, we're back."
"We're back, Father."
"Ah, back from morning training already, are you?"
Chief among those tasks was visiting their father, Edmund.
Edmund still hadn't fully recovered.
There were times he failed to recognize Lyriette, and times he asked who Cassdia even was.
Because of that, regular visits and the strengthening of their bond were vital to keep reinforcing his memories.
"I saw a beautiful flower on the way here. Pale pink petals with lots of yellow pollen clustered inside—do you happen to know what it's called, Father?"
"That sounds like a peony, I believe. It's famous enough to be called the Prime Minister of Flowers."
"So that's why it was so pretty."
"Viola loved that flower too, you know. I suppose blood truly can't be denied."
So these days, whenever Lyriette had even the smallest, most trivial thing she wanted to share, she would come find Edmund and talk with him like this.
Stories about her birth mother, which used to be nearly impossible to draw from his lips, now came up often too.
Lyriette was glad of that.
It felt like proof that Edmund could remember Viola fondly now without being afraid to recall her.
"So, how did today's match go?"
"Tch. Couldn't take a single round. It feels like the gap keeps widening the more we go, honestly. It's a bit disheartening."
Even Abel, who was usually quite mindful of his manners in front of their parents, apparently found it awkward to admit he hadn't won a single round in nearly a month straight, letting out a click of the tongue instead.
Edmund didn't press the point.
Rather, he chose to take it as a sign of Abel's competitive spirit and receive it well.
"Still, don't give up—keep at it. You need to reclaim your dignity as the elder brother, don't you?"
"That's exactly my intention. Especially since it feels like Lyriette's been looking down on me lately…"
"O-oh, that's a misunderstanding, Brother."
"Hmph, funny you'd say that when you still seem to hold back a little on me today."
"That was purely because I wasn't feeling quite up to par…"
The three of them had grown a little used to scenes like this now—ordinary, family-like moments.
Chatting about the most trivial things amid the warm air, sipping tea, nibbling on sweets—realizing just how great a happiness that simple thing was had taken far too long, which made each passing day feel all the more precious.
"Father, we'll be heading off now. Our tutor should be arriving soon."
"Go on, then. Though, doesn't Lyriette still not have a tutor assigned to her?"
"Yes. Mother offered to arrange one, but I turned it down. I still prefer being on my own, for now."
"That's fine. Do as you're comfortable with. Morning training must be tiring—rest well."
Soon enough, the two quietly left the study.
After walking a little while, they came to a fork in the path.
From here, their directions diverged.
"You're heading straight back to your room?"
"Yes, Brother."
"I'm off this way, then. See you at lunch."
"Good luck with your lesson."
"Right."
Since everyone now gathered together at every meal, the two exchanged a quick farewell before parting in opposite directions, promising to meet again later.
'What could Uncle be doing right now?'
Lyriette had told Abel she was heading to her room, but in truth, her destination was Baal's chambers.
Lately, thoughts of him simply wouldn't leave her mind.
Baal in the morning, Baal at lunch, Baal in the evening.
Even lying in bed at night, her thoughts drifted to him.
Why was that?
When she asked herself that question, the words he'd murmured a month ago flickered through her mind.
—Even without me by your side, there's no need to worry, I suppose.
At the time, everything had been so chaotic, and his voice so faint, that she'd assumed she'd simply misheard him.
To begin with, Lyriette refused to believe he would ever leave her.
Hadn't Baal promised as much? To stay by her side for the rest of her life.
'No, Uncle would never do that.'
There had to be some kind of misunderstanding.
Besides, wasn't House Argent—this very place—Baal's home, and nowhere else?
Where on earth would he even go, if he left?
'I'll just ask Uncle directly. I'm sure he'll smile just like always and tell me it was all a misunderstanding.'
Was it faith?
Or merely a way to soothe a heart growing anxious?
Even as she tried to rationalize things and appear calm on the surface, she didn't even notice her own steps quickening.
As she drew closer to her uncle's chambers,
her heart, which had been quiet until now, began to pound louder and louder.
She pressed a hand gently against her clamoring chest as she approached the door.
And then—what was this? The door was left just slightly ajar.
'Did he step out for a moment?'
She assumed either he'd forgotten to secure the door on his way out, or perhaps a servant had come in to clean while he was away and failed to check it properly on their way out.
—…I understand. Yes. No, but why send that particular—
But as she drew nearer to the door, a faint voice began drifting out from inside.
'Uncle?'
Was he in there after all?
He must have simply forgotten to shut the door by mistake.
It sounded as if he were speaking to someone through a crystal orb or something similar.
Knowing that eavesdropping was wrong, Lyriette naturally moved to close the door for him.
But then—
—…Yes. I think it'll be fine. I imagine Lyriette will manage perfectly well without me too.
"…Ah?"
Just as she was about to shut the door, the faint words that slipped through made her body go rigid.
'What did he just say?'
That she'd manage perfectly well without him?
He'd even singled her out by name.
Her pulse grew faster and faster.
Her vision blurred, and her hands began to tremble faintly.
'No, that can't be right.'
Hadn't he smiled so brightly at her just this morning?
He hadn't shown the slightest sign of reluctance even when she'd clung to him, drenched in sweat.
Why would an uncle like that ever leave her?
He'd promised, hadn't he? To stay by her side for the rest of her life.
Should she go in now and ask him?
No—he might be upset that she'd eavesdropped on his conversation.
Then should she wait for another chance and ask him indirectly later?
But what if it turned out to be true?
To begin with, Uncle wasn't something she owned.
Wasn't it disrespectful of her to even think this way?
A tangle of speculation, plans, and self-reproach whirled through her mind, leaving her utterly dizzy—
—Ah, my apologies. The door was open, so I thought I'd just—
"……!"
His voice, once faint and distant, was growing closer and closer.
Tap, tap!
Sensing this, Lyriette turned and left the spot without a single glance back.
More than the day she'd learned why her father had been so indifferent to her.
More than the day she'd heard the truth behind why her mother had tormented her so cruelly—
'I'm scared.'
This was more frightening.
The thought of a tomorrow in which he might not be by her side.