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Chapter 02: No One Said Regression Was a One-Seater

Episode 12

"It is extremely rude not to pay attention when speaking with someone."

"..."

"Why did you torment the young lady?"

Marianne asked in a measured voice. Leticia had always been the one scolded for bullying others, so watching someone else get told off felt strange. I kept my mouth shut and observed the two of them.

The small boy glared at me once more before opening his mouth. Hmm, surely he wouldn't bring up the regression...

"I didn't like the look in her eyes."

Hey, your eyes are worse! You've been glaring at me since we first met!

...That's what I wanted to say, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. No matter how much he was a five-year-old child, he was still a member of the imperial family—and the future Grand Duke of the North, the one called a bloodthirsty demon. He had just tried to charge at me with a knife, hadn't he?

At Adrian's words, Marianne fell silent for a moment, as if at a loss. Well, I knew who was inside that body, so I could let it slide, but from the nanny's perspective, she must have been thinking, "What kind of child is this?"

"...Well, I don't like the look in the Young Grand Duke's eyes either."

But Marianne did not back down. I wondered if it was really all right to speak to the Grand Duke that way, but she merely stared at him with a resolute face.

"Then would it be all right for me to torment the Young Grand Duke?"

"..."

"For whatever reason, you must not hit or torment others. That is a very bad thing to do."

"..."

"Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Marianne asked, holding Adrian's arms firmly. He still wore a face full of discontent, but surprisingly, he nodded slowly.

"And, my lady."

Once Adrian's momentum had waned a little, Marianne turned her head toward me. I thought she would soothe me or urge me to make peace with Adrian, but what came was unexpected reproach.

"If someone hits you, is it all right to hit them back?"

...Isn't it? You can't just let yourself be hit.

But if I answered honestly, I'd get a long lecture. I pressed my lips together and shook my head. Marianne's face softened as she stroked my hair.

"Hitting back just because someone hit you means you're becoming the same as them. Besides, the Young Grand Duke is still a baby."

"...Hah."

Adrian let out a scoff of disbelief. Marianne hesitated, then turned her head back to me.

"If something like this happens again, tell the servants. They will help you right away. Understood?"

"...Yes."

I wasn't entirely convinced, but I pouted and nodded. The nanny smiled brightly.

"Then, the two of you, shall we hug and apologize to each other?"

...Excuse me? Do what? I looked up in surprise. The nanny smiled gently and pulled both of our arms together, making us face each other. Our flustered gazes met in midair.

"..."

"..."

We stared at each other in silence. No, really? I have to hug the bloodthirsty Grand Duke of the North right now? Adrian also seemed unwilling, standing motionless in place.

"It seems the Young Grand Duke is quite shy. Hmm, how about you go first since you're the older one, my lady?"

'He wouldn't know shy if it bit him.'

I really liked Marianne, but making us hug every time we reconciled was so old-fashioned and clunky. She wouldn't like it if I told her to hug Branda and make up, would she!

But a six-year-old child had to obey their caretaker. Unable to resist her gaze, I shuffled awkwardly toward Adrian. I could see his scrunched-up face.

"...I'm sorry for hitting you, Young Grand Duke."

I gave Adrian a light hug—more like a brief touch on the shoulders than an embrace.

"The young lady apologized first. Now it's the Young Grand Duke's turn."

"..."

A small hand, trembling with humiliation, lightly touched my back and then fell away. His ears, visible up close, were flushed red.

"...Mmph."

Wow, look at him gritting his teeth.

Adrian's face was filled with indignation, as if he had just endured an unprecedented disgrace. A warrior kneeling before an enemy general wouldn't look this aggrieved. But Marianne seemed thoroughly satisfied and praised us both.

"Well done. While the Young Grand Duke is here, you two will get along. Understood?"

Do we really have to get along? Can't we just avoid each other? I wanted to ask, but arguing would only mean spending more time with him. Adrian seemed to think he should step back for now as well, slowly nodding along with me.

But those blue eyes were still fixed sharply on me—as if he would surely kill me, the one who had regressed him.

Ah. Is this life really doomed after all?

---

"...I heard there was a commotion."

It was not long after bathing that Fabian summoned him. Adrian stood before him in fluffy sleepwear. The minor scratches and bruises that wouldn't even leave scars had already been thickly coated with ointment.

"Yes."

Adrian knew he was in an extremely unfavorable position. He had become a five-year-old child unable to protect himself, and he had attacked the daughter of the man who had saved him. Hence, being called to the manor's study.

"During dinner, there seemed to be no particular issue."

"..."

"Rather, it appeared the Young Grand Duke was glaring at Leticia."

So saying, the Count set down his quill and rose. When they had met at the border, their builds were comparable and their eyes at the same level—but now, at five, Adrian had to crane his neck to look up at him.

"Has anything displeased you in my manor?"

This was a man who always maintained a composed and neat appearance even at the border, where monsters sprang up at any moment. Always calm and kind to those around him, many in the border regions praised both his strength and his character.

But even so, he wouldn't allow a man who had threatened his daughter to stay in his manor.

Adrian was aware of his misstep. Regardless of blood, Leticia Belando was the legitimate young lady of Count Belando. He should have instead tried to coax her and find a way to return to the original timeline.

"...No."

His answer came a beat late. He had to think about what came next. Originally, he would have needed to inherit the title or come under imperial protection, but...

'They wouldn't be pleased.'

Even if he inherited the title, he lacked the power to protect it, so the imperial family would undoubtedly postpone his succession and keep him in the palace. But with Imperial Grandson Ricardo already there, they wouldn't want to create room for a succession dispute.

He truly needed a cigar. Or a strong whiskey. To be in a body that didn't even allow sword aura, let alone cigars or alcohol—it was maddening.

"Blades are meant to be drawn on the battlefield. A knife is for eating, not for attacking others."

"..."

"Do you understand what I mean?"

His voice didn't sound angry, but it was consistently firm. Adrian slowly nodded.

"Yes."

"Good. You must be tired—go rest."

That was all the Count said. Adrian looked up in puzzlement.

"...Is that all?"

He had expected to be told that a carriage would be prepared for the North or the palace come morning, or at the very least, to hear something about the debt of gratitude.

"Well, if the Young Grand Duke were about ten years older, I might have lodged a formal complaint."

A large hand suddenly landed on his head. The touch, stroking his still-childish hair, was gentle.

"Don't worry, just go back to your room. You may stay here comfortably until your situation is decided."

His tone suggested he knew exactly what Adrian was worried about. Catching the faint smile on the Count's face, Adrian turned and left.

---

Adrian stared blankly at the ceiling. Just as he had been told not to worry, the servants of House Belando continued to attend to him with utmost care—as if his attack on Leticia was truly no big deal. The manor's nanny, Marianne, was no different.

"Would you like me to read you a picture book before you sleep?"

"...No need."

Adrian shook his head.

"Then how about a lullaby?"

"No."

What he really needed for a good sleep was sleep incense, but there was no way they would give that to a five-year-old child. Adrian swallowed a sigh and pointed to the large teddy bear beside him.

"...I don't need this either."

"Oh my, you're welcome to use it. Actually, this is a loan from Lady Leticia—she said the Young Grand Duke could use it."

Marianne whispered as if sharing a secret. Adrian frowned.

"The young lady truly wishes to get along with you."

What an obvious lie. Did they take him for a fool just because he looked like a child?

He felt like laughing in derision, but he held back. After all, he would have to meet Leticia Belando again somehow.

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