“I know.”
Freya raised her head.
There was no hesitation in her light purple eyes, only a deep sense of exhaustion and… detachment.
“Everyone thinks we should be together, that it is only natural. But Grandfather — “
She shook her head gently.
“I don’t want that. It is not because Ross is bad, nor is it because I have someone else I like. It is just… the identity of ‘Crown Princess Consort’ is not the future I want.”
She did not dare tell her grandfather about her past life; it was too absurd and too terrifying.
Setting aside whether her grandfather would believe her, if he did, he would likely take his giant cleaver and charge straight into the Academy to hack Ross into mincemeat.
On the other hand, she was also reflecting —
‘What do I want?’
‘Is it to bury myself in profound magical research and explore the mysteries of the world?’
‘Is it to protect my family according to my own will, rather than maintaining a so-called alliance as an appendage of the Imperial Family?’
‘Is it to control my own life, rather than following a path planned since birth — a path that seems glorious but is filled with shackles at every turn?’
Imperial rules, court infighting, the pressure of being in the spotlight, and the perfect role she had to play…
Every single one of them made her feel suffocated.
Especially after those increasingly frequent nightmares and the horrific events of her past life, she loathed the feeling of being bound by invisible forces to the extreme.
Calanso gazed at her for a long time.
He saw the determination in Freya’s eyes, and he also saw the struggle and unease hidden beneath that resolve.
He thought of his daughter — Freya’s mother.
Years ago, she had looked at him with a similar gaze, speaking of her rebellion against the family’s arrangements.
A familiar dull ache pulsed in his heart, but it was overshadowed by his pity and love for his granddaughter.
He set down his teacup and let out a nearly inaudible sigh, one that contained many complex emotions.
Then, he reached out and covered Freya’s slightly cool hand with his warm, broad palm.
“Lia — “
Calanso’s voice was deep and powerful, carrying an unquestionable decisiveness.
“Look at Grandfather.”
Freya looked into her grandfather’s deep eyes.
“You are the pearl of House Dale, my most cherished treasure. Your happiness is 1,000 times, 10,000 times more important than any marriage alliance or any so-called ‘natural’ conclusion.”
His words were resolute.
“If you do not want it, then you will not marry him. No one can force my Little Star to do something she is unwilling to do, not even His Majesty the Emperor.”
A massive surge of warmth and bitterness struck Freya’s heart simultaneously.
She had always known her grandfather doted on her, but she had never imagined he would support her rebellion against this engagement — something the entire upper class took for granted — so decisively and unreservedly.
Behind this support, it meant that her grandfather would have to face the pressure of the Imperial Family and bear potential diplomatic and familial risks.
“Grandfather…”
Her voice was slightly choked as she gripped his hand back tightly.
“Thank you. But… this might bring you a great deal of trouble.”
“Trouble?”
Calanso smiled, his expression carrying the arrogance of one who had long held a high position and a hint of iron-blooded grit.
“The ‘trouble’ I faced when I was young was much greater than this. Rest assured, leave this matter to me. I will find a suitable way to communicate with your father and the Imperial Family.”
He frowned slightly, thinking of his son-in-law who valued family interests and Imperial relations above all else, and his tone turned cold.
“As for your father, do not worry. I am here.”
The pressure seemed to dissipate by more than half in an instant, but Freya knew that the true storm might have only just begun.
However, with her grandfather as a solid backing, her heart felt much more settled.
“However, Freya— “
Calanso shifted the topic, glancing toward the direction where Lyra had left, his words holding a deeper meaning.
“While you are making this important decision, an ‘assistant’ with an unknown identity and mysterious strength has appeared by your side. This forces me to be concerned. Are you certain she can be used by you, rather than bringing new, even greater trouble?”
Freya’s expression became serious again.
She could not fully explain Lyra’s origins or that strange Equal Contract to her grandfather, but she had to put him at ease.
“She is… very special, Grandfather. I admit I do not fully understand her yet, but I have a way to restrain her. She might be able to help me handle some things that are inconvenient for me to show my face for. In the Academy, in the family, and even in the certain attention and ‘accidents’ that might arise in the future due to the broken engagement, I need such a ‘blade’.”
Calanso remained silent for a moment before finally nodding.
“You have grown up; you have your own judgment and schemes. Grandfather trusts you. But be absolutely careful. In that girl’s eyes… there is a beast hidden. Do not let it consume you.”
“I understand.”
Just then, a light humming sound drifted from outside the greenhouse, coming closer and closer.
Following that, the glass door was pushed open, and Lyra “slid” inside like a bird showing off new feathers.
She had changed into a simple, sharp, dark grey hunting-style skirt-suit, with her long white hair tied high in a ponytail, making her look exceptionally spirited.
Steward Aru followed half a step behind her. His expression was calm as usual, but there seemed to be a trace of… lingering helplessness in his eyes.
“Lady Freya! Lord Grandfather! What do you think of this outfit?”
Lyra spun around, her hemline fluttering.
“Grandpa Aru’s taste is really good. These clothes are so easy to move in! It’s just that trying them on was a bit tiring…”
She curled her lip, then suddenly leaned in close to Freya, her heterochromatic eyes sparkling.
“Are you finished with your important talk? What are we doing next? Is there a fight? Oh, wait, I mean, is there a ‘mission’?”
She seemed completely oblivious to the lingering heavy atmosphere in the greenhouse and ignored the scrutinizing gaze from Calanso, simply waiting for Freya’s instructions with great excitement.
Freya glanced at her grandfather, and Calanso gave her a nearly imperceptible nod.
“There is no fight.”
Freya stood up and adjusted her skirt, regaining her usual cold and composed demeanor.
“However, since you are my ‘assistant,’ it is time for you to begin familiarizing yourself with your work. Come with me to the study. There are some ‘rules’ and ‘background’ you need to understand.”
She had to make Lyra understand what they were about to face as soon as possible, whether it was the hidden arrows within the Academy or the waves that would rise from the broken engagement.
“You got it!”
Lyra replied cheerfully, then as if remembering something, she turned to Calanso and gave a proper salute — much more standard this time.
“Lord Grandfather, Lady Freya and I will take our leave now!”
Calanso watched her back as she skipped along behind Freya. His silver-white eyebrows furrowed slightly.
He picked up his tea, which had already grown cool, his gaze distant.
The undercurrents of a broken engagement, an “iron blade” of unknown origin…
His Little Star had chosen a path covered in thorns.
All he could do was stay behind her, clear as many obstacles as possible, and believe that she could grasp the sharp edge she had chosen to carve out her own future.
Lyra followed Freya to the study.
The atmosphere in the study was very warm, and the sunlight shining in made it feel quiet and peaceful.
On a stand by the window, there was Freya’s favorite sandalwood incense. Reading here was clearly an enjoyment.
The study door closed gently behind them.
The heavy oak blocked out the light and sound from the outside world, leaving only the faint scent of ancient scrolls and leather covers on the bookshelves, and the faint flickering of magical flames in the fireplace.
Freya did not immediately walk toward the large mahogany desk.
Instead, she stood before a row of towering bookshelves, her fingertips brushing over the gold-stamped titles.
She needed to organize her thoughts and set the tone for the upcoming conversation.
Lyra, meanwhile, unceremoniously surveyed the space —
Walls full of books, complex astronomical orreries, rare minerals and magical materials displayed in glass cabinets, and a detailed map of the Aurora Continent hanging on the wall.
Her gaze finally landed on Freya’s back.
That straight spine and slightly tensed shoulders betrayed that the owner was not as calm as she appeared on the surface.
“Now, let’s talk about the rules, Lyra.”
“Rules?”
Lyra’s voice was exceptionally clear in the quiet study.
“I thought we signed an ‘Equal Contract,’ Lady Freya. Rules sound more like things set for pets or… actual slaves.”
Her tone was relaxed, carrying a hint of testing.
Freya turned around, her light purple eyes calm and waveless.
“The contract guarantees our relatively equal status and certain mutual obligations, Lyra. But ‘rules’ are so that we can coexist and cooperate safely and effectively in this mansion, in this city, and even in this country.”
She walked behind the desk and sat down, gesturing for Lyra to sit in the opposite armchair.
Lyra sat down as told, but her posture was somewhat lazy.
She rested her cheek on one hand, her red pupil staring intently at Freya.
“I’m all ears, My Lady.”
Freya ignored the strange form of address and spoke with clear logic.
“First, to the outside world, you are my private assistant and bodyguard, personally selected and hired by me. Your origin is limited to ‘someone I found.’ You do not need to explain the details to anyone, including the servants in the mansion. Steward Aru will help you adapt to your surface identity, but you do not need to report everything to him.”
“Understood. Maintain a sense of mystery.”
Lyra nodded.
“Second, your range of activity is temporarily restricted to the mansion and the Central Magic Academy — I will handle a temporary passage permit for you. You are not allowed to leave without my permission, nor are you allowed to cause trouble within the Academy. Your ‘skills’ are only to be revealed when you receive an explicit order from me or when my personal safety is under a tangible threat.”
Freya’s tone grew heavy.
“I do not need an uncontrolled element of violence disrupting my plans.”
Lyra blinked.
“In other words, I have to pretend to be… well, a relatively capable, ordinary assistant? No problem, my acting is quite good.”
She remembered her disguise at the Black Market the previous night.
Freya remained noncommittal and continued.
“Third, and most importantly. The things I need you to handle may involve grey areas or even require you to face danger. I will provide the necessary information, resources, and support, but as for how to execute them, you will judge based on the situation.”