“Isn’t it a bit late to realize your own drinking habits now?”
“So what am I supposed to do? In their eyes, I’m the ultimate scumbag who abandoned his wife and daughter, and even you are helpless about my situation…!”
Lian buried his head in a pile of books, utterly dejected.
After one shock after another, he was completely lost.
Meanwhile, Sephy sat beside him, constantly summoning books from the library on other floors, searching for any Spell that might be useful.
The Magic Books that had already been tried and failed were tossed aside after she glanced through them, gradually stacking up into a little mountain.
“I have to correct you: it’s not just them, everyone in the Brave’s Party thinks so too. And I never said I was ‘helpless,’ just that I haven’t found a solution ‘yet.'”
Lian turned over and saw dazzling Spell scripts and arrays flashing rapidly through Sephy’s eyes, while the Arcane Light that signified magic flickered on and off over his own body, coming and going in turns.
This meant that even if it was fruitless, she kept trying without pause.
He knew Sephy was taking this seriously for his sake. Though she didn’t show it outwardly, she was the kind who wouldn’t give up until she figured things out.
“So, Sephy, what about you? Do you think I’m that kind of person too?”
“Me? I don’t. You only disappeared for Sixteen Years Ago—how could that possibly change my opinion of you.”
“That’s good… At least someone in this world is still willing to believe in me.”
Although Lian knew Sephy’s concept of time was vastly different from others, he still found a measure of comfort in her words.
“Sixteen Years Ago” felt like an unbearably long time to him, but for someone immortal like her, it might be no different than “yesterday.”
“So, what do you plan to do now? I might still need a little more time. I suggest you stay here and cooperate with me until I find a way to turn you back.”
After another round of Spellcasting, Sephy’s pupils sizzled and crackled like overheated machinery, even giving off a whiff of white smoke.
With a “snap,” she closed the book, took a small vial from a clone nearby, and dripped the potion into her eyes.
“I’m just curious… This ‘little more time’—how long might that actually be?”
“If we’re lucky, maybe the next Spell will work. If not, I’ll have to try every Spell in this Tower, then analyze all the failed experiences and slowly figure out where the problem is before developing new Spells. That could take a hundred and eighty years?”
“A hundred and eighty years?! I’m just a mortal!”
“Right, I almost forgot, you’re a mortal. So you still want to reunite with your wife and daughter? Even if it’s in this form?”
Lian failed to notice the faint hint of loneliness hidden in her voice. Sephy tossed the vial back to her clone and gazed up at the vaulted ceiling, blinking her eyes.
“Of course I can’t run away. My battles, everything I’ve done, have always been for her… for them.”
Even without looking at Lian’s face, Sephy could hear the determination in his voice.
On the road to fulfilling his duty, even the harshest blows in the world couldn’t keep him down—he would always rise again and forge ahead—he had always been that sort of person.
“Alright then. I don’t mind you going to see them, but I think it’s best not to tell them you’re Lian right now.”
“Why? As long as you vouch for me, surely they’ll believe it even in this form.”
“You’re being too optimistic. Even if they can understand what happened to you, accepting it is another matter. Especially your daughter—how do you expect her to believe that a girl her own age is her long-lost father? At least consider her mental health.”
“Uh…”
“And it’ll probably be a big shock for Miriya too. It took her two or three years to recover from your disappearance, and then, more than a decade later, a young girl who resembles her husband by seven or eight tenths jumps out and claims to be him… If you were her, could you accept that?”
“…”
Lian’s burning confidence was instantly snuffed out. Sephy was right. Just a little empathy made it clear how stupid it would be to rush in and reveal his identity like this.
“So, you’d better wait until I find a way to return you to your original form before confessing to them. If you spend time with them first, it won’t be such a shock when the truth comes out. Besides, the situation in the Empire now isn’t much better than the chaos at the end of the last war… Ah, that’s a long story—just stay with them for a while and you’ll understand soon enough.”
“But if you put it like that, what kind of identity would make it easier for me to approach them?”
“Don’t worry about that. I already came up with a good plan for you just now.”
Sephy’s eyes glinted mischievously as she looked at Lian, and then she flashed him a sly smile.
…
……
…………
“Annoying, annoying, annoying, annoying!”
In a room of the Red Hair Palace tower—the seat of the Duchess—Milin Klauschel, the only daughter of the Northern Duchess of the Yilansiya Empire, was throwing a fit.
She stormed to the bed, yanking off her braid’s ribbon, and her vivid Red Hair inherited from her mother flared out into the air like leaping flames.
Milin’s maid, Feiyin, as always, was standing nearby with a tray of cookies and tea, listening patiently to her young mistress’s endless grievances.
“What’s wrong, my lady?”
“You’re still asking what’s wrong! If you hadn’t tattled to Mother, would I be locked up in my room like this?”
Feiyin gracefully dodged the pillows, quilts, dresses, and all sorts of things Milin threw from the bed, and with amazing balance managed to both keep the tray steady and quietly gather up everything tossed her way, putting them neatly back in place.
“Madam did this for your safety, my lady. The city’s been full of shady folks lately, so running around like before just isn’t safe. And your accusations truly sadden me. Heaven as my witness, I didn’t tell Madam a single word.”
“Hmph… Then how did Mother show up at the farm just after I got there?”
“That’s because this isn’t the first time you’ve snuck off to the farm. Everyone in the Red Hair Palace knows that whenever you run away from home, you always go there.”
“That’s still your fault! I’ve already told everyone not to tell Mother when I’m going out—they wouldn’t dare lie to me. It has to be you!”
Even though she knew she’d been caught because her goal was too obvious, Milin still stubbornly turned her head away, venting her frustration on everything in the room except herself.
“Alright, my lady. Blame me if you must. But have some food, and don’t work yourself up.”
Feiyin smiled as she offered the tray to her mistress. The warm, buttery scent of the cookies, slathered in raspberry and blueberry jam, immediately relaxed Milin’s pout.
“F-fine, I’ll just have a few. But don’t think a few cookies are enough for me to forgive you!”
She said “just a few,” but her hands kept reaching for cookie after cookie until the tray was empty.
Feiyin set the tray aside, laying out a sheepskin mat to catch the crumbs beneath Milin.
“Yes, yes~ Please eat slowly, don’t choke.” She sat down on the bed and gently combed through her mistress’s bright Red Hair. Milin squinted her eyes happily, snuggling up like a content cat.
This wasn’t a typical master-servant interaction, but in the Duchess’s residence, it was perfectly normal.
Most of the servants, led by Feiyin, had served under Melia since she was newly titled, growing up alongside Milin as close as sisters.
“My lady is truly enviable. You never get fat, no matter how much you eat.”
“That’s because I’m always active. I haven’t had a break lately—Vera’s been training me nonstop, and then I have to deal with all those people who keep coming to visit.”
“You mean the various lords and young masters? With the Crown Festival and your birthday coming up, no wonder they’re all lining up.”
“But isn’t it a bit much? I have to meet five groups with Mother every day—five! My face is about to freeze from all the smiling.”
Milin finished the last cookie, buried her face in Feiyin’s lap, and started to grumble.
“Please don’t wipe your mouth on my skirt, my lady.” Feiyin said this, but she let her mistress snuggle as much as she liked.
“I actually thought there would be more nobles visiting.”
“…Mother is still the Northern Duchess, same as ever. How come they weren’t so eager before?”
“I suppose it’s because you’re about to come of age. Apart from the festival guests, there are probably those coming to propose marriage to Madam.”
“Propose? But Mother has no intention of marrying, you know that.”
Milin crawled slowly up to the headboard and took a sip of Feiyin’s tea from the little table.
“No, it’s you they want to marry off, my lady.”
“What?! Cough, cough, cough!” Milin nearly spat her tea everywhere. “I am not getting married!”
“It’s just your age, my lady. Using marriage to link noble families is tradition in the Empire and everywhere else. Even your peers—Roseweiser and Nefitalia—already have their Engagements.”
“B-but Mother dotes on me so much, she would never be willing to marry me off…”
Milin broke out in a cold sweat, the cup in her hand clattering against the tray.
She never cared much about her noble status, but as the daughter of one of the Four Great Nobles, and the ruler of the entire Northern Territory, her mother likely didn’t see things the same way.
Over the years, her mother had poured her heart into managing and protecting the lands that “that person” should have inherited, taking on responsibilities that should have been his.
Milin had witnessed every effort and sacrifice.
She couldn’t remember the last time her mother’s expression had changed.
She always seemed energetic and radiant, able to handle endless waves of nobles and dignitaries whose false smiles only wearied her.
Yet that day at the farm, after talking with that crazy girl, her mother looked utterly exhausted, but also relieved.
And when they got home, Milin was promptly put under house arrest for the first time in ages.
—That girl confessed to me, you know. Could Mother really be so tired that she’d marry me off, even to another woman?
“Feiyin, big sister, don’t tease me. Tell me seriously—would Mother really accept their proposals for me?”
Milin grabbed Feiyin’s hand, staring at her intently. Feiyin calmly replied,
“That’s unlikely. But if among the suitors there’s a young man Madam truly approves of, she might invite him to stay as a guest, and after your coming-of-age ceremony, have you two get to know each other—”
Before Feiyin finished, Milin had thrown on her coat, scrambled onto the windowsill, and, in the blink of an eye, leapt out.
“Take care of Mother for me, bye!”
The spire of the tower receded rapidly as the runaway princess plummeted freely through the wind.
Her Red Hair billowed out in the air, blazing like a magnificent scarlet flame.