* * *

He had called her over, but McClart sat in silence for quite some time. Just as Moiria, unable to bear the silence any longer, was about to speak, he finally broke it, his tone slow and hesitant.

“Am I… frightening?”

Despite the gravity of the situation, his question was rather anticlimactic.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Moiria nodded.

“You just realized that?”

“But I’m even using a separate room to give her enough time to recover.”

Moiria had no interest in his sleeping arrangements and was about to cut the conversation short when McClart, not giving her a chance to interrupt, continued.

“And besides, I’m no longer an Inquisitor.”

Was he actually serious? Moiria stared at him for a long moment, then let out an awkward laugh.

“That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is the issue?”

“…There’s so much, I’m not sure where to start, honestly.”

Should she mention his intimidating appearance? His rough way of speaking? Or perhaps his rather questionable past actions? Any of those alone would open up a whole list of things to address.

McClart, looking genuinely troubled, swallowed and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Then, almost to himself, he muttered,

“Should I create a respectable title for myself?”

“…Excuse me?”

“Is being a lord considered a preferred profession?”

Would it hurt him to provide some context when he spoke? Why did he always communicate like this, as if expecting others to read his mind? Moiria sighed inwardly, exasperated by his cryptic way of speaking.

She calmly suppressed her urge to question him on the spot.

Her thoughts briefly drifted to her recent pay raise. It was a generous sum, too good to risk over a few pointed remarks, so she quickly reconciled herself to the situation.

“Being a lord sounds respectable enough.”

“Respectable enough” was quite the understatement; it was a position that could come with countless grandiose titles. But since she wasn’t paid nearly enough to shower him with that kind of praise, she opted for a straightforward answer.

Fortunately, McClart seemed to value her directness more than any flattering reply. He nodded thoughtfully, muttering to himself.

“So, I should reclaim it after all.”

Was this even a role that could be taken back? Moiria felt a little sceptical, but decided not to question his way of thinking too deeply. The man sitting before her had always operated on a different scale than the average human.

“If you reclaim it, you’ll end up spending the entire year on the battlefield, defending the castle.”

Especially now, with him branded as a heretic. Here on the outskirts, he may not feel the effects, but should he so much as set foot in a larger city, McClart’s notorious reputation would undoubtedly precede him.

And as a lord? Chiron’s followers would swarm the castle, justifying their attack as righteous judgement. And it wouldn’t stop there; Moiria was sure that half the world held a grudge against McClart. And if word got out that the castle also harboured the red-eyed Great Witch…

She silently vowed to submit her resignation the moment that day arrived.

“…Which is why I gave it up in the first place.”

After all, managing a castle came with countless responsibilities, and he couldn’t focus on fighting the High Priest while handling it all. Besides, with Vienny in a coma back then, he’d needed to keep her hidden on the outskirts, visiting regularly to ensure her safety—a lifestyle incompatible with the duties of lordship.

Never particularly attached to his titles, McClart had easily given up his lordship, retaining only enough wealth to live comfortably for the rest of his life – especially here in the outskirts, where expenses were minimal.

“May I ask what has suddenly made you reconsider something you never cared about?”

For a man who had so easily relinquished his title to now be considering reclaiming it, there had to be a reason. Moiria was willing to bet her annual salary that Vienny had something to do with it.

“Vienny is acting strangely. Has she ever shown an interest in learning household chores before?”

As expected, McClart’s immediate response centered on Vienny.

“Chores?”

“Yes, things like cleaning or cooking.”

Macclat pressed his fingers to his temples, looking thoroughly troubled.

“The mansion might be too cramped, so she keeps taking an interest in chores. If we were at Rave Castle, I’d have assigned her a larger, controlled area where she could move freely. Here, it’s harder to maintain security with the limited space.”

McClart mused, as if logistics were the main concern.

Listening to him, Moiria cautiously raised a hand and pointed out the flaw in his thinking.

“Forgive me, but… that sounds like imprisonment.”

McClart frowned, genuinely perplexed.

“I’m not talking about locking her in a room.”

“No, but restricting her to controlled areas is… Well, anyway, it’s actually a positive sign that she’s motivated to do something, so there’s no need to worry too much.”

Moiria gave up on trying to explain that confinement, by definition, meant restricting someone to a specific area. Considering what she knew of his past actions at Rave Castle, this was at least some progress. Now, Vienny had a room with a window, the freedom to take walks, and was even allowed to watch the sunset occasionally.

It was hard for anyone to change all at once, so this gradual shift toward a semblance of normalcy was likely the most stable path for McClart as well.

To Moiria, Vienny’s newfound desire to engage in something—anything—was a very positive change. It brought a spark of life back to her, far better than listlessly letting the days drift by.

But apparently, McClart didn’t see it that way.

“She seems to be distancing herself from me,” he said. “I told her to call me whatever she wanted, yet she still insists on calling me ‘Inquisitor.’ And these tasks she’s trying to learn… they’re all things one would need to know when living alone. Don’t you think she’s preparing to leave? What’s your professional opinion, Doctor?”

Now that he mentioned it, Vienny’s sudden interest in chores like cleaning and cooking—tasks that the staff already handled—did seem unusual. And since these changes in her behavior began after McClart’s return, it was natural for him to be concerned.

Before Moiria could respond, McClart spoke up again.

“Should I hire more staff?”

“To make the mansion more lively?”

Moiria suggested, thinking that adding some energy to the place might help redirect Vienny’s focus.

McClart frowned, as if she were speaking nonsense.

“No, to give her more tasks. The more people there are to delegate to, the more comfortable life will be here, and if she has no practical skills, she won’t even think of leaving”.

Good grief, so that was his idea of a solution.

Moiria, who had briefly thought that McClart was making progress towards normalcy, now reconsidered. He was still completely clueless. Heaven help her – she had no desire to get involved in his relationship problems again!

Holding back a sigh, Moiria put on a serene smile and offered a bit of advice.

“In my humble opinion, the quickest and surest way to resolve any issue is to ask the person involved directly.”

‘Stop digging yourself deeper.’ she thought.

Despite her earnest, sensible advice, McClart dismissed it with blunt suspicion.

“But what if asking her only makes her hide her intentions even more, and then she tries to slip away in secret?”

At this point, Moiria wondered if his level of distrust was bordering on pathological. She considered offering a clinical diagnosis but decided against it, recalling that Vienny had once said something along the lines of “Let’s go to hell together.” She could only imagine what kind of twisted personality would inspire such a statement.

This was beyond anything Moiria could address.

“If she intended to run, she would have done so already.”

Vienny had already turned down Gentian’s invitation to leave together. Though Vienny likely thought Moiria was unaware, Moiria had noticed when Gentian began quietly packing belongings in preparation for his departure.

If Vienny had chosen to go with Gentian, Moiria wouldn’t have tried to stop her, even though she knew that McClart’s fury at discovering this would almost certainly lead to her own demise.

But, fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—Vienny hadn’t shown any intention of fleeing. Instead, she had immersed herself wholeheartedly in tending to the garden. To Moiria, that alone spoke volumes about Vienny’s state of mind.

Yet, it seemed this reassurance wasn’t enough for McClart.

“She’s run away from me before—more than once.”

Faced with this truth, Moiria could only press her lips together, unsure of how to respond.

Given her history of escaping more than once, it was understandable that McClart was on edge. After all, he was a man who might give Vienny everything she wanted—but would never let her go. If he could let her go, he wouldn’t have turned the world upside down as he had.

“If perhaps she’s feeling stifled, how about taking her somewhere farther for a change? …Of course, with you.”

The mention of “going out” initially made him frown, but her quick clarification seemed to soften his reaction.

Since coming here, Vienny’s outings had been limited to the mansion grounds or nearby spots. Even the beach where they watched the sunset was relatively close, as Vienny’s limp made her reluctant to travel far on foot.

“Even a short trip to the nearby village would offer a change of scenery and might lift her spirits.”

The mansion was isolated from the village, a deliberate choice by McClart to make it easier to station his guards. But this seclusion, while convenient for security, could make daily life feel monotonously quiet, perhaps making Vienny feel trapped.

“An outing, huh…”

McClart leaned back against the sofa, crossing his arms. A nearby village might be suitable.

He nodded, realizing that for Vienny, who had led such a secluded life, a simple village would likely be a novel and fascinating place.

The experience might pique her interest, offering a refreshing change of scenery and perhaps even distracting her from the odd fixations she’d developed lately.

In the end, McClart decided to follow Moiria’s advice. He already regretted ignoring her earlier warnings about “emotional issues,” so this time, he didn’t want to make the same mistake.