Sister-in-law of the Heroine in a Childcare Novel - Chapter 50

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 50

Just as I was about to speak, unable to bear the weight of the silence any longer, Raymond said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“I shall bear in mind that such is the will of Her Highness the Princess.”
“……Yes.”
“However, future matters remain future matters.”
His gaze lingered, briefly, on the torn hem of my skirt.
Without hesitation, he reached for the cloak draped across my shoulders and pulled it free.
The cloak was purely ornamental—utterly impractical in any functional sense—yet I’d been wearing it upon arriving at the Imperial Palace to stand before the Emperor. I was already wrapped in what might have been Gloria’s banner across my shoulders like a short cape, and yet he showed no regard for that, fastening his own cloak around my shoulders and tying it at the clasp.
The weight and stiffness of the heavy fabric settling around my shoulders felt strange and unfamiliar.
“Currently, Her Highness the Princess is my one and only betrothed.”
“…….”
He asked no questions about the bloodstained, suspicious sword I held cradled in my arms, nor about Lisianthus’s mangled hand.
He showed concern for none of it.
“Therefore, my protecting and worrying over you is not an excess of goodwill. It is something I do not as a house, but as your betrothed, as an individual.”
“…….”
The cloak wrapped protectively around me, shielding me from the gazes of others, felt utterly out of place.
Right. He’d always been the embodiment of duty.
No matter how much Titania misbehaved, he came. He never grew angry at the torrent of insults.
He never uttered a word of complaint about those dreadful gifts—things closer to terror attacks—or letter bombs and their ilk.
Though his silent acceptance only drove Titania to greater extremes, desperate for any proper reaction.
I knew well what this was called by another name.
Torture of hope.
I looked into those golden eyes—eyes that must have seemed to Titania like sunlight breaking over the dawn horizon, or the only moonlight falling through a dark night.
It would have been better if he had never promised anything at all. If he had been thoroughly unkind from the start.
What becomes of a day-insect when it realizes the moon and sun are not its portion?
Does it drown reaching for the moon’s reflection in water, or burn to death flying too close to the noon sun? Better it should steal the warmth of a passing traveler’s campfire than covet a light that was never meant to be hers.
“My, I see.”
As I managed a smile, the man blinked several times, as though taken aback.
He must have expected some sharp reply—something like ‘your kindness is too much’ or ‘why would you do such a thing?’
Well, I’d made my position clear enough before this. After this, no one could claim my actions were nothing but scheming to claim a place at the Young Duke’s side.
“The future Young Duchess would truly be happy.”
Instead of contradicting my words, the man lowered his eyes and closed his mouth.
It was a strange expression.

* * *

The air was thick with the suffocating scent of flowers.
The Havilios Marquis Estate lay on the outskirts of the Capital.
All of the great noble houses that traced their lineage back to the founding of the Empire typically maintained at least one impressive manor in the heart of the Capital. By comparison, this location seemed almost shabby.
It could not rival the Castrain Ducal House—the only ducal house in the Empire—but the Havilios house was still among the few remaining marquis families in the realm.
Excepting the Rakerta Marquis House, which had been exterminated generations ago for the crime of conspiracy, only three remained: the Integria Marquis House, the Land Marquis House, and the Havilios Marquis House.
Whereas the Integria house had produced an Empress and the Land house a Consort, the Havilios house was, remarkably, quiet and all but invisible.
Then again, the house was small enough in number that it had scarcely any daughters to send into the Imperial Family. It was not wealthy either.
Its lands lay in the Far South of the Empire. Though the weather was fair and provisions abundant, there was no special product that would yield significant wealth.
A house content with maintaining its current standing, living quietly without fanfare—that was its reputation in society.
The one thing even remotely unusual about it was the garden maintained at the manor, which was exceptionally large and beautiful.
“Father.”
Passing between trees grown to human height, a girl with hair like black roses loose about her shoulders smiled with a lovely face.
“Ah, you’ve come. Lilium.”
The Marquis Havilios, who had been deeply absorbed in his work, raised his head to greet his daughter. Had someone ignorant of the truth seen them, they would have mistaken him for a gardener tending the manor grounds, and her for his daughter—so simple were their clothes.
Both wore the coarse, unrefined garments common among commoners, their aprons stained here and there, towels draped about their necks. Yet on them, such appearance seemed natural.
“Prim gave me these Cyclamens that bloomed today.”
Lilium handed him a small basket she’d been carrying. Inside the woven straw box lay a heap of Cyclamens with deep blue petals.
Parting the fresh flowers revealed, at the bottom of the basket, a single black seed. Its shell was so thin that one could faintly see within, and a delicate crack ran through it as if it might shatter at any moment.
The Marquis narrowed his eyes as if trying to see into the seed’s depths. As he gazed at the faintly red interior, the girl murmured softly.
Her murmur rang like a bell, clear and bright.
“The Germination failed, despite our efforts.”
“So lower-tier Magical Beasts have their limits, after all.”
“I had hoped Her Majesty Cleo the Consort would take more initiative this time. It’s disappointing—I thought we might obtain better material.”
The girl sighed and crushed the fresh blue Cyclamen petals in her white hand, blue and black sap dripping beneath her fingers.
A beetle crept forward and licked the flower’s juice, then trembled. Its blue carapace transformed, in an instant, to a dark blue-green.
Chirp, chirp, shriek, shriek-shriek—the creature’s shrieks turned to silence as it became completely black, hovering near Lilium’s cheek with affection.
Small creatures that resembled insects, mice, and hummingbirds hid their bodies among the leaves, their red eyes gleaming.
The Marquis tapped his waist and spoke as if troubled.
“Indeed. If only the matter had gone well, we would have had no shortage of materials for some time. But now that the Castrain Ducal House has suddenly begun regulating their own household, obtaining suitable material has grown difficult.”
“What will we do about the workshop support, Father?”
“Ah, that mad old fool.”
The Marquis’s brow furrowed as he considered something.
“He says the same thing every time. ‘Bring me someone of blood relation from the Castrain Ducal House, and I can show you the research results at once.’ We ourselves nearly had our necks caught in that net. The man acts without thinking.”
“But he is a genius, isn’t he? They say without him, the Cultivation of Arlene Flowers would never have succeeded.”
“His recklessness is the problem! He was making such a fuss about buying slaves, saying he could procure them himself, but then what? He would have caused more trouble if left alone! Kidnapping, of all things, because he couldn’t find someone to his liking.”
“Who did he have in mind?”
“The youngest daughter of the Castrain house.”
Lilium’s voice carried a note of confusion.
“Wasn’t she adopted? I thought there was no blood relation.”
“So did I. But it seems that was not the case. He was so sorry to have had her within reach, only to let her slip away. Watching a middle-aged man his age weep so bitterly—what a pathetic sight.”
The Marquis clicked his tongue.
Squeak, squeak—the sound of a rat. A black mouse appeared from somewhere and licked up the remnants of flower juice on the ground.
The beetle that had been hovering near Lilium’s cheek lunged at the black mouse, biting its tail.
Shriek! A cry rang out.
The lovely girl, delicate as a full-bloomed rose, watched the scene without the slightest concern.
“It is truly a pity. The Castrain Ducal House could become complete if they merely had the will. Yet they cannot share our vision.”
“We are gardeners, Lilium. We prune branches, add compost, and remove pests to harvest fruit. How can we be the same as those who would set fire to the tree simply because its fruit bears poison?”
“You speak truly, Father.”
Lilium smiled brightly.
“But since one can never be too careful, very well. There is no harm in extending a hand. And it is fortunate that we have an appropriate pretext this time.”
“Yes.”
The girl answered obediently. She was happy.
The breeze was cool, the garden remained beautiful, her father was kind and upright, and the flowers brought by a maid devoted to serving her alone were lovely. Everything was like a Blessing.
A Blessing.
Yes, no word could suit the Havilios Marquis House more.
The people of the Havilios lands spoke to one another of how “living in this territory is itself a Blessing.”
And it was true. The sun was warm, water abundant, the temperature mild.
Vegetation and fruit flourished, and livestock fattened easily.
Above all, Magical Beasts never invaded.
Even in neighboring territories, lower-tier Magical Beasts occasionally trespassed. Yet not a single beast ever came near the Havilios lands.
Unnaturally so.
As if wild creatures fled far away to avoid a predator’s nest…….

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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