“Yes. If you are finished, may I take Viscount Lavota with me now?”

Lionel was startled to realize that the person he had been speaking with was the crown prince. Cyril pressed down on the unripe boy’s shoulder in a gesture that was friendly, yet carried an unmistakable warning.

“Take my advice to heart, Viscount Lavota.”

At a look from Cyril, Danel didn’t bother asking Lionel’s preference and hurried him along.

“We can’t let Duke Berthier smash another vase. Please walk a little faster, Viscount.”

“A vase?”

“In any case, the duke always manages to break at least one vase every time he visits the palace, and that is a problem. Last time he shattered a precious vase that had been passed down since the late emperor’s reign, and my heart ached something terrible. But never mind that. Hurry along, Viscount.”

The corridors that had taken Lionel so long to wander through on his own flew past in no time as he followed Danel. As they drew near the audience chamber, the sound of Duke Berthier’s fury came booming through.

“Oh dear, Your Grace. Not the vase!”

Danel ran down the corridor at a surprising speed despite his bent back. He hung from the arm of Duke Berthier, who had a vase raised high, and shot Lionel a look telling him to hurry over and help restrain him.

“Um, Your Grace? I don’t know what the matter is, but perhaps breaking something expensive isn’t the best”

“What? You think the House of Berthier can’t afford to replace one measly vase! We could smash hundreds of these and the Berthier family would never go broke!”

Crash! The vase and Danel’s heart shattered into pieces. Lionel thought he heard an echo of Adelaide’s voice, the one she had used when she threw her arms around Draco after he burned down the training hall floor.

‘What does it matter how much it costs to relay a floor! Our Draco could burn it down every day and the House of Berthier would never go bankrupt!’

Lionel found himself worrying, in a way that would have earned him a smack from Adelaide had she heard it, that the House of Berthier might go bankrupt before he ever had the chance to repay his debt.

Adelaide returned from the Rissatino estate looking utterly worn out. Duke Berthier, back from the imperial palace, looked no less worn out than she did. Benjamin was so taken aback by the haggard state of both his employers that he couldn’t even bring himself to ask if they’d had a good outing.

“Viscount, a moment.”

Benjamin beckoned Lionel over. Of the three of them, Lionel alone looked merely a little tired, not sunk in the same swamp of exhaustion.

Having witnessed Duke Berthier smash no fewer than seventeen vases at the imperial palace, Lionel rushed over to Benjamin with relief, grateful to be near someone whose face wasn’t flushed with rage and who wasn’t shouting.

“By any chance, did His Grace…”

Lionel felt he could guess the rest of what Benjamin couldn’t bring himself to say. The boy gave a solemn nod.

“And how many…”

“Seventeen, Steward.”

“Seventeen!”

Benjamin patted his pocket and found Duke Berthier’s blood pressure medicine. He swallowed it in one go, without water.

The bitter pill slid down the back of his throat, and the moment he thought about having to revise the already perfectly finalized budget for the month, he could barely taste the bitterness at all.

“And one of them was a vase the late emperor had treasured…”

Lionel waited until Benjamin had finished swallowing the medicine before twisting the dagger already buried in his chest.

“The late emperor’s vase…!”

“Steward!”

Benjamin toppled backward. The fairly heavy thud drew not a single glance from the worn-out father and daughter.

Lionel looked around in a panic for someone who could help, someone who wasn’t in a state of collapse. His eyes landed on the bell Adelaide rang whenever she called for a servant.

‘I’ve never used this before.’

Lionel, with no experience giving orders to servants, could only stand there helplessly, looking back and forth between Benjamin and the bell. A pale hand reached past him and rang it instead.

“Lady Adelaide!”

“A person just collapsed. What are you standing there staring at?”

“I didn’t know if I was allowed to ring the bell…”

“Lionel Andreas Lavota, Viscount.”

Adelaide planted a hand on her hip and called his full name. Lionel straightened up without thinking.

“If you can’t handle being a viscount, I can arrange for you to go on living as nobody, plain Lionel.”

What Adelaide said had, until not long ago, been exactly what Lionel had wished for.

The title of Viscount Lavota was a burden too heavy for Lionel, who had spent his whole life as an unremarkable commoner.

‘I hear you lived all this time not even knowing you were a viscount. You still have a great deal to learn.’

Cyril’s words rang in his ears. Lionel swallowed drily and turned toward the servant who had come running at Adelaide’s call.

“The steward, Benjamin, collapsed suddenly. Take him to his room.”

His mouth went dry. He half expected the servant to snap back at him any second: “I don’t take orders from the likes of you!”

But contrary to Lionel’s fears, the servant only gave him a look that was somehow tender, and carried out the order without a word of complaint.

“Keep practicing, Lionel.”

Adelaide said something unsparing and ruffled his hair.

Lionel nearly burst into tears at that warm touch, but barely managed to hold back by biting the inside of his cheek.

‘I am Viscount Lavota. I have to get used to this. That’s the only way I can stand beside Lady Adelaide with my head held high.’

Lionel composed himself and thanked Adelaide for the praise with dignity. The gap between how he imagined he looked and how he actually looked, however, was considerable.

Adelaide found Lionel’s desperate struggle not to cry pathetic, and yet she felt the same inexplicable pride she had felt the first time Draco burped, and that flustered her.

Thanks to Lionel’s pitiful display, Adelaide managed to pull herself out of the shock of Vivian and Violet, and after casting a glance at Duke Berthier and giving a small shrug, she headed up to her room.

Lionel trailed after her like a chick.

“Nothing unusual happened at the palace?”

Lionel guessed that the seventeen vases Duke Berthier had smashed probably didn’t count as “unusual” in Adelaide’s terms.

“Nothing in particular, I think.”

“Is that so?”

Adelaide wanted to smack Lionel, who didn’t have a perceptive bone in his body.

He usually chattered away until she threw him out for being too noisy, so why was he suddenly being so sparing with his words?

“Oh, I did meet His Highness the Crown Prince.”

“Did I ask about your business?”

“If there was anything unusual, that would be it…”

Lionel thought hard at Adelaide’s suddenly cool tone.

He looked back over what had happened before Adelaide asked her question.

‘She caught a brief glimpse of Duke Berthier.’

Adelaide doesn’t like Duke Berthier. She doesn’t even call him Father.

But Lionel decided to take a chance.

He didn’t want to disappoint Adelaide, who seemed to be waiting for a particular answer.

“I wasn’t in the room for it, but His Majesty said he wanted to discuss a matter involving Lady Adelaide.”

“A matter involving me?”

“Yes. His Majesty told me to go outside and play, so I didn’t hear the rest, but perhaps that’s what made His Grace so angry? He did smash seventeen vases on the way out.”

“Hmm. Seventeen vases. He usually settles for two or three, so seventeen is certainly unusual.”

Adelaide flicked Lionel’s cheek as he stood there, eyes bright, waiting for something.

She didn’t know why she did it, only that it was the curse acting on her, and since Lionel smiled with what looked like great satisfaction, she didn’t think too hard about it.

‘He’s not a pet I’m raising. Why does he love being fussed over so much.’

What mattered was that the emperor had mentioned Adelaide. Before she turned back time, Adelaide had gotten into all sorts of minor scrapes, but she had never caused any serious trouble.

Up until the point she nearly killed Lionel, Duke Berthier had treated her as little more than a child he pretended not to have.

“I haven’t caused any trouble serious enough to reach His Majesty’s ears yet.”

“Yet, Lady Adelaide?”

“Lionel. What did I tell you about your ears?”

“That even when I hear something, I should doubt myself.”

“Then what’s the right way to handle this?”

“Doubt myself and keep my mouth shut.”

Lionel had no trouble imagining Adelaide smashing eighteen vases at the imperial palace. Adelaide was warm, but she didn’t hold back when it came to action.

“How far are you planning to follow me? I have something to think through on my own, so stop hovering and go.”

Adelaide shooed Lionel away at her bedroom door.

Lionel accepted the sugar candy Adelaide quietly slipped him, held it carefully, and turned obediently toward his own room.

“Lady Adelaide!”

“Good grief, you scared me!”

She had sent one away only for another to pop out. It was Amy.

“Where did you come from?”

“I’ve been behind you and the viscount this whole time. Lady Vivian sent a letter!”

“We just parted ways with her. What letter could she possibly be sending already.”

“Doesn’t that mean she likes you that much, Lady Adelaide? Now that you’re friends, please stop holding the burning-at-the-stake ceremony and just read it.”

Amy pushed the letter against Adelaide’s chest without so much as asking.

Adelaide was losing, one by one, the means she had to keep Amy’s growing impudence in check.