After Edmund, who had come to greet them, tactfully excused himself.
Only three people remained in the parlor.
Baal, Yuria, Lyriette.
And Lyriette absolutely hated this composition.
She hated that she was even bothered by something so trivial, but right now, she hated the composition even more.
Because, after all, Baal was currently sitting a little closer to Yuria than to his own niece.
Of course, to the naked eye, it looked as though they were seated at even intervals around the round table, like an apple pie sliced into three equal parts—but it could not escape Lyriette's sharp eyes.
*The space between Uncle and me is about three centimeters farther than the space between Uncle and that girl.*
If someone were to ask whether that fell within margin of error, Lyriette swore she would throw her wooden sword at that person.
*She's pretty. The atmosphere is a bit odd, but she's clearly a cute, pretty child.*
Scrutinizing Yuria's face carefully, Lyriette bit her lip in agitation.
Slightly unkempt, but hair so lovely that with just a little care it would flutter like fine silk.
A sharp nose bridge and intelligent red eyes.
Moreover, her skin was even paler than Lyriette's own, resembling porcelain.
Pale enough that one might wonder if it wasn't paleness but something closer to sickliness.
And though there was a certain thinness to her that couldn't be denied, her face was remarkably slender.
If she just put on a little more weight, there was no doubt she'd turn into an extraordinarily pretty child.
*But why do I hate this so much?*
It had been the same when she'd mistaken Ern for a girl.
Why did it feel like this, thinking that a pretty girl was beside Baal?
For Lyriette, it was the first hostility she had ever felt in her life.
No—to be precise, it was the second time.
The first had been when she mistook Ern for a girl.
Which meant, in other words, that this wasn't born from misunderstanding—this was the first time she had ever harbored genuine hostility.
Even when her father ignored her.
Even when Cassdia treated her coldly.
Even when her brother persecuted her.
This was an emotion she had never once encountered before now.
How should she even describe it?
It was truly difficult, truly awkward.
Something in her chest seemed to be blazing furiously, yet her head had gone so icily cold that the whole world seemed blanketed in snow before her eyes.
*What is this. I feel like something's gone horribly wrong.*
Meanwhile, Baal—no fool himself—was also keenly feeling this frosty atmosphere with his entire body.
The problem was, he had no idea where it was coming from.
No, to be precise, he didn't know why it was leaking out.
The source was obviously Lyriette, but if asked why she seemed angry, he couldn't come up with anything resembling a clear answer.
Just as Baal was fully mobilizing the brain he'd cultivated back in his bookworm days, trying to derive some plausible answer—
"Baal, this is good."
"Oh, is it? I'm glad. Eat more of the others too. No need to hold back."
"Baal, you eat too."
"I'm not really fond of sweets, actually."
"But it's good. Baal, say ah."
"......!"
The moment Yuria held out a small, cut piece of apple pie on a fork.
Somewhere, it felt as though a sharp *crack!* had rung out.
In truth, from Yuria's perspective, she was simply mimicking what Baal had done for her—feeding her by hand for the past two days because she was clumsy with utensils—nothing more.
*Could there possibly be poison in this?*
Just as he was about to eat the apple pie Yuria offered without a second thought, Baal felt a single drop of cold sweat trickle down his spine.
Turning his creaking neck to look at Lyriette—
his lovable niece was watching him with an expression of the most boundless serenity imaginable.
So serene, in fact, that if you held a piece of firewood up to her, it would probably burst into flame on contact.
"Uncle?"
"Uh, hm? Did you call me, Lyriette?"
"If it's not too much trouble, could you introduce me to Miss Yuria?"
"...Miss Yuria?"
Wait, had he ever mentioned Yuria's name before?
Baal's eyes went round, and Lyriette added with a soft smile,
"We happened to talk the night before last. I know roughly who she is, but I'm curious."
"Ah, so you already knew..."
Baal, who had rather been hoping to give her a surprise introduction, felt a small pang of disappointment.
It was only disappointment because his plan to surprise Lyriette with a new friend had fallen through—but the problem was, Lyriette, unaware of his true intentions, interpreted his reaction entirely differently.
*So he really was trying to hide it from me.*
To be that disappointed...
Last night's guess had just been invalidated.
Lyriette had, deep down, been leaning toward viewing Yuria's existence positively.
Well—not exactly *positively*, per se.
But she'd been thinking about it in the most reasonable direction she could manage.
In fact, she had assumed that perhaps Baal never intended to hide Yuria's existence from her at all, and that the events of that night had simply come about through a string of coincidences.
But now, look at this.
Judging by his reaction just now, she could tell that Baal really had been trying his best to keep Yuria's existence hidden from her.
*Why?*
Why on earth?
If he'd meant to hide her, then why bring this child all the way to House Argent instead of concealing her to the very end?
All sorts of speculation swirled through her head.
"Well, now that you've found out, there's nothing to be done. I did want to keep it hidden as long as possible, though..."
"......."
As Baal let out a heavy sigh, Lyriette's hand, lifting her teacup, trembled.
Could he possibly be here to tell her he was leaving the main house together with that girl?
Perhaps his sudden early return was simply to pack a few things and go back.
Since he had already left the main house once before, two years ago, Lyriette's anxiety only grew heavier by the moment.
"Actually, Lyriette. Yuria is a child I brought here to be your friend—"
"—No, you can't!"
Before Baal could even finish his sentence, she cut in with a loud shout, as if to preempt him—
"...Hm?"
"...Excuse me?"
But upon replaying Baal's reaction and the words he'd just spoken, something seemed off, and she blinked in surprise.
*Wait, what did Uncle just say?*
Make her a friend? Friend of who?
Surely not... that girl?
To whom? To me?
And why was this delivered in such a solemn atmosphere?
"Um, Uncle. What exactly did you mean by that?"
"Exactly what I said. Yuria here is going to be your friend from now on."
"Then—that means the reason you hid her existence from me was..."
"Yes. I wanted to surprise you, so I hid it, but it didn't quite work out."
As Baal scratched his cheek awkwardly, Lyriette slumped back against her chair as though collapsing.
Relief and exhaustion washed over her like a flood.
Her body, which had been tense as a drawn bowstring, went slack all at once, as though she might melt away like slime.
"I'm sorry. I didn't cause any misunderstanding, did I?"
"N-no! Not at all! I never misunderstood a single thing, not for a moment!"
And following that exhaustion came an overwhelming wave of shame.
Watching him blink placidly, unaware of anything, Lyriette couldn't sit still from embarrassment, wondering what on earth she'd been thinking.
Had Baal not been right in front of her, she probably would have kicked the table over on the spot and thrashed about in an unsightly fit.
*I see. Uncle brought this child here for my sake.*
Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise.
Rather, now that the misunderstanding had cleared, Lyriette had simply fallen into another, entirely different delusion.
Though it wasn't a complete misunderstanding, the fundamental reason Baal had actually brought Yuria to the main house differed greatly from what she now believed.
But well, so what.
From Lyriette's perspective—her fondness for Baal already climbing steadily back up—it was hardly a matter she cared about.
"Was it too much consideration?"
"No, I'm delighted! I was actually hoping for a friend myself. And if it's a friend Uncle brought me, she's surely a kind person."
"Ha, I'm grateful you'd trust me so. Then, go ahead and greet each other properly."
"Yes."
Lyriette straightened herself once more, spine held perfectly upright, and offered a polite greeting.
"I'm sorry for the delay in introducing myself, Miss Yuria. I'm Lyriette Argent. Baal's niece, and the second daughter of House Argent."
"I'm Yuria. Can I call you Lyriette?"
"Yes, please call me whatever feels comfortable."
Had it been anyone else, she wouldn't have granted permission to use her name so readily.
But with her boundless trust in Baal, Lyriette gladly allowed the friend he'd brought to use her given name.
*She's a hard person to figure out.*
Even as they clasped hands and shook, Lyriette kept observing Yuria the entire time.
There was simply no sense of emotion to be felt from her at all.
It might have been a little rude to think so, but it was as if a meticulously crafted doll were sitting there.
"By the way, Yuria is a poor child who was abandoned by her parents. So, Lyriette, please be gentle and kind to her, alright?"
"What? Abandoned...? Is—is that true? Yuria."
"Yeah. My mom abandoned me when I was six."
"What terrible people, to do such a thing...!"
At this unbelievable story, Lyriette—quite unlike herself—burst out in indignation.
A few faces came to mind who would have felt a pang of guilt had they been present, but she forced herself to push them from her mind.
Even when she herself had been persecuted within the family, she had never once been cast out.
And to think they'd exiled a mere six-year-old child.
*So that's why she's so thin.*
It was fortunate that the scars scattered across Yuria's body had already vanished thanks to Baal's healing.
Had Lyriette seen those scars, she surely would not have been able to hide her shock.
That was how dire Yuria's condition had been until just a few days ago.
"So, about that, Lyriette. For the time being, I'll need to stay close by to look after Yuria too. I know it's a shame, since I finally came home early, but..."
"It's alright, Uncle. I understand completely. Please don't worry about me, and take good care of Miss Yuria."
"Thank you. As I thought, our little niece has such a generous heart."
"Ugh, if only you hadn't said that last part, it would've been perfect."
That word again—niece, niece.
Of course, she knew it was simply Baal's own way of expressing affection.
But every time she heard it, her heart seemed to sink in some strange way, and Lyriette wasn't particularly fond of that title.
*If only he'd at least give me a pet name to call me by.*
No one else in the household called her by an endearment either.
It might not be a bad idea, she thought—it could also express the special bond between herself and Baal.
She lacked the courage to actually voice such a request, so the words merely circled inside her mouth, unspoken.
*It's a bit disappointing, honestly, but there's nothing to be done about it.*
Having been secretly delighted that Baal had come home early, it would be a lie to say she felt no disappointment at all.
But seeing Yuria's pitiable circumstances, she found it entirely understandable.
Baal had such a gentle nature—there was no way he could leave a child in Yuria's situation to fend for herself.
*Just as he did for me.*
And so, Lyriette resolved to be generous of heart, and gazed at Yuria with warm, gentle eyes.
She hoped, with all her heart, that the girl might find happiness here, at least.
That was the meaning she poured into her gaze.
However—
"......?"
As the gaze lingered rather long, a small question arose in Yuria's mind.
Why was she staring at her?
Did she have something she wanted to say?
Since Yuria was poor at picking up on emotions, she naturally couldn't sense the warmth contained in Lyriette's gaze either.
As she hesitated over what reaction to show, a memory suddenly flashed through Yuria's mind—a conversation she'd had with Gritta the previous morning.
- Now, Yuria. Try following this old granny. Put your fingers like this...
- Like this?
- That's right. Now say "vee" and give a big smile, won't you?
- Vuh-eee...?
- Heh heh, seems you're still not quite skilled at smiling.
- Gritta, what's the point of this?
- Whenever you make eye contact with someone, try doing this. You're such a cute child, so surely everyone will dote on you. My granddaughter was the same way.
- Okay. When I make eye contact, like this...
At first, she'd wondered what on earth this gesture was even for.
But when she'd shown it to Baal, and when she'd shown it to Godwin, neither of them had seemed to dislike it.
And so, Yuria decided to follow that same formula once more, forcing the corners of her mouth to twist upward,
"Vee."
She executed her newly learned specialty move.
To the eyes of adults who doted on her fondly, it was, without a doubt, an undeniably adorable sight.
But no matter the unavoidable circumstances behind it, to Lyriette—who had just had Baal snatched away from her moments ago—it looked like nothing else but:
*Heehee, see that? Your uncle's mine now, got it? Losers can just sit there quietly and suck their thumbs.*
That was the only way it could be read—as someone barely holding back a smirk of mockery.
In common parlance: a taunt.
*Snap.*
At that moment, something inside Lyriette's head made the sound of a thread breaking.
And on that day, for the first time, Lyriette thought to herself:
It seemed like it was going to be very difficult to become close with this child.
