“Her Highness the Grand Duchess appeared to be well. The estate seemed startled and on guard when we first arrived, but they didn’t prevent us from seeing her.”

“That’s a relief, at least. He really has changed, that Rafez.”

Hereis nodded at Pierre’s report. Pierre had left the Grand Ducal estate and come directly back to House Lennon — to let the ducal house know that Lacy had returned from the Grand Duchy safely.

“Ah, and now that I think of it — it seems Her Highness caught a cold while at the Grand Duchy. The Grand Duke had peppermint tea prepared for her himself.”

“……Rafez looked after something as small as that?”

To Hereis, the fact that Rafez had attended to such a detail mattered more than the cold itself.

“Did you see him?”

Pierre gave a nod.

Confirming Rafez’s condition — his supposed illness — was also one of the things that needed watching.

“Still, he won’t be able to use illness as an excuse to delay his audience with the Emperor indefinitely. His Majesty’s patience must be reaching its limit.”

“That’s precisely what I was going to say, Pierre. For now, let’s wait and see. Even if we do nothing, His Majesty won’t stay quiet for long.”

Hereis nodded in turn, and Pierre wrapped up the conversation and left the estate shortly after.

But his expression was troubled.

With Rafez using illness as an excuse to avoid the palace, Lacy was spending every hour of the day confined to the same estate as him. Pierre could only imagine how uncomfortable that must be for her.

If Rafez truly was unwell, that ought to be welcome news — but how it would affect Lacy was another matter entirely, and the uncertainty only left him more unsettled.

***

“Mollys, how have you been?”

Mollys had just received a letter from the imperial household and was staring at it with a grim expression, letting out a quiet sigh, when a familiar voice made him look up.

“— Eldeо, sir?”

If Pierre, who had just left, was a striking young man with platinum blond hair, the man now standing before him was a nobleman of an altogether different brilliance — radiant gold.

He bore a striking resemblance to the golden-haired young lady who frequented this estate.

Eldeo Valerian.

“I must have been away too long if that’s the look on your face, Mollys. There’s nothing surprising about me being here.”

He was the heir of House Valerian, the young lord set to inherit the earldom — and Mary’s older brother.

His closeness to Rafez went without saying, but more than that, he had been a distinguished knight and aide who had stood steadfastly at Rafez’s side through the war. He had spent so long at Rafez’s side that his absence felt stranger than his presence — yet since returning from the front, he had been convalescing on account of his injuries.

“Are you fully recovered? Your shoulder——”

“Ah, this? It’s nothing. Good as new.”

A wound from a blade cut deep into the shoulder could hardly be nothing. But Eldeo rolled his right shoulder in a wide circle and flashed a confident grin, as though to prove it.

It was a wound earned shielding Rafez — a mark of honor, in its own way.

“So what did you receive that had you making such a face?”

Eldeo’s gaze dropped to the letter in Mollys’s hand. A letter bearing the imperial seal.

“It’s from the imperial household. Ordering His Highness to present himself at the palace at last. I’m told it’s a personal summons in the Emperor’s own hand.”

“A summons? Ha — His Majesty does have a sense of humor.”

Eldeo laughed it off as though it were amusing, but a personal summons from the Emperor meant Rafez could no longer put off his audience.

“Hand it over. I’ll deliver it myself.”

Eldeo took the letter from Mollys and made his way to Rafez’s study.

Rafez had his back turned, standing at the window. It struck Eldeo as odd that he wasn’t working — but then the image overlapped with something familiar: Rafez on the battlefield, staring into the distance as he always did when planning a campaign. A smile crossed Eldeo’s lips.

People don’t change.

Mary had said Rafez seemed to be changing, but Eldeo believed that only halfway — or rather, hardly at all. In his mind, a person could only truly change if they had died and come back to life.

And since that was impossible, people could never truly change. That was that.

“Your Highness, a summons has arrived from the imperial household.”

Rafez turned at the voice — familiar, and yet somehow not.

“……Eldeo?”

“Yes, Your Highness. In the flesh.”

“What are you doing here——”

“Are you saying I’ve come somewhere I have no business being?”

Eldeo tossed the quip at the stunned Rafez with an easy grin.

“No, it’s just — how long has it been. This is nearly the first time since the victory banquet.”

“That’s right. You remember precisely.”

After returning to the capital, there had been a stretch where getting along without Eldeo felt like a constant inconvenience. Mollys had borne the brunt of it.

But Rafez hadn’t been able to call him back. The final battle at Benerlov had been the fiercest of the war, and it was there that Eldeo had been wounded in Rafez’s place. The guilt had weighed on Rafez considerably.

The physician’s words at the time — that Eldeo had hovered between life and death, that he might never use his arm again — had shaken him deeply.

“Are you truly all right now? No trouble moving around?”

Eldeo smiled at the sight of Rafez still looking him over with worried eyes. He gave a firm nod.

“Half a year of rest — I’m perfectly fine now. If anything, I’ve been going stir-crazy. There’s no making me convalesce any longer. That’s precisely why I came, isn’t it? Ha.”

“You’re truly saying you want to work at my side again?”

“Well, where else would a House Felista retainer go? There’s nowhere to go but the Grand Ducal house.”

“Eldeo.”

Rafez called his name as if to refuse, but —

“I wish to remain at your side, Your Highness. Please allow it.”

The laughter had left Eldeo’s face. The sincerity of the request was not something Rafez could bring himself to turn away.

The reason Rafez hadn’t called Eldeo back, and why he still hesitated even now, was the thought that Eldeo might be wounded again because of him.

‘Once is enough. I can’t let him be hurt on my account again.’

But Eldeo saying he wanted to return to House Felista’s service meant he had already accepted that possibility — that it didn’t matter to him.

“……Then hand over what you brought.”

Rafez shifted his gaze to the Emperor’s summons in Eldeo’s hand.

“Pardon? Ah, here it is!”

This was as good as half a yes, and Eldeo quickly passed the summons over, watching Rafez’s face carefully. But Rafez’s expression as he read gave nothing away.

“Your Highness, what exactly is the matter with you? Even Mary says she doesn’t know — it seems no one does……”

“I’ve been feigning illness.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Eldeo startled. Rafez had answered without lifting his eyes from the summons.

“Did you just say — feigning illness?”

“That’s right. What’s so remarkable about that.”

Unlike what Rafez’s tone suggested, the remarkable part was precisely that it was Rafez saying it.

From childhood to now, Rafez had been the very model of diligence — everyone knew it. At the academy, he had never missed a single class and had even received a perfect attendance commendation. And this man was feigning illness?

“No, Your Highness feigning illness — that’s simply unimaginable——”

“Which is exactly why it worked on the Emperor. Just look — he’s sent a personal summons to get a glimpse of my face.”

Rafez held up the summons and gave it a light wave, the corner of his mouth curving in quiet amusement.

So Mary hadn’t been wrong after all. He really had changed. Rafez had always disliked the Emperor, found him disagreeable — but he had still been someone who tried to carry out the duties and orders given to him.

It was then.

Knock, knock.

“Your Highness.”

The person knocking at the open door was Lacy.

“You sent for me.”

“Yes, come in.”

Only now did Eldeo understand. Why the door had been left open. Rafez had summoned Lacy and had been waiting for her.

“Your Highness the Grand Duchess, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Eldeo Valerian.”

Lacy stepped inside and came face to face with him.

“……I don’t believe it’s our first meeting. Didn’t we see each other at the victory banquet?”

“Ah, did we? My apologies.”

Even as he offered the apology, Eldeo was struck by how similarly she spoke to Rafez.

“There’s no need to apologize. In any case, what was it you wanted to say?”

“You said we’d finish our conversation later.”

“That was——”

“I’ve already said everything I have to say. If you’re willing, you can move into the room beside mine tonight.”

Eldeo had been standing awkwardly between them, having missed his chance to excuse himself — but Rafez’s words snapped him back to attention.

“The room beside yours? Do you mean the Grand Duchess’s chambers?”

Back at the Valerian estate, he had heard it settled — that Mary would become Rafez’s mistress and would take the Grand Duchess’s rooms. That had been Louis’s arrangement, as far as Eldeo knew.

Both Rafez and Lacy turned to look at him.