Home/I confined you, but I have no ill will/ch 31

31.

"Hmm."

Ibelin gave an awkward smile and lifted the hem of her dress. Revealed on her thigh, secured by a wide leather belt, were a dagger and a gun.

"Whew."

Martin let out a low whistle.

"Carrying weapons in the palace requires permission, you know."

"I don't intend to harm anyone!"

Ibelin waved her hands in frantic excuse.

"I'm just carrying them for self-protection—in case something dangerous happens."

"Oh? Ordinary people, when faced with danger, think first of being protected. Just what did that damn man teach his granddaughter?"

Her grandfather's epithets were growing harsher. Ibelin felt cold sweat forming.

"He didn't really teach me anything bad..."

She tried to defend him cautiously, but Martin seemed unconvinced.

"Never mind. I'll handle this part. I can't exactly throw a friend's granddaughter into prison."

"Th-thank you!"

At least she still thought of him as a friend. That was truly a relief. Ibelin had worried that her grandfather's only companions in life had been the manor staff—but he'd had friends after all.

Forgetting her earlier tension, Ibelin clasped her hands together and beamed.

"By the way—I've grown curious."

"What are you curious about? I can tell you anything I know!"

"What kind of monster that man turned his granddaughter into."

"E-excuse me?"

Why am I a monster? Ibelin's eyes darted around. She was an utterly ordinary noble lady from the provinces. Being able to hunt and cook was a bit unusual, but wasn't that just a hobby people picked up?

"There's a training ground inside—let's go there and find out."

"N-no, I can't do that!"

As she desperately protested, a heavy thud! came from behind her head.

"Huh?"

Startled, she turned—and the thick door thudded again. Then it burst open! Wood splinters flew inward, and Ibelin quickly slid under the sofa. Thanks to that, the splinters missed her.

"Hah—that man again!"

Apparently, Martin referred to most people as that man. Peeking up over the sofa, she saw a familiar figure stepping through the broken doorway.

"Lord Kite?"

"Oh—my love."

She had heard him say my love and darling many times in the basement—but hearing it in front of others hit differently.

So embarrassing!

She wanted to crawl into a mouse hole.

"Why is my beloved here?"

Kite said that, curling one corner of his mouth.

"Care to explain, Sir Martin?"

"Archduke Gracias. Do you know how many times this makes? Can you not enter a room without destroying property?"

"I knocked politely—would you have opened it?"

"Of course."

"Liar."

"Why would I lie to you, Archduke Gracias?"

"Everyone in Intelligence lies."

Shrugging, Kite then reached out his hand to Ibelin. She took it and rose, and he gently pushed her behind his back.

"Are you alright?"

Alex naturally escorted Ibelin and asked.

"I'm fine."

She had no idea what was happening. While she blinked in confusion, the standoff between Kite and Martin seemed to conclude.

"You'll have to pay for that door."

"Paying isn't difficult—but if you ever lay a hand on my beloved again, something similar will happen."

Martin's face twisted grimly—but the commanding presence she'd shown against the Barkel knights was gone.

"Fine. However, I was close with Baron Frillie in life. I still have more I wish to ask his granddaughter."

"Then you can listen with me."

"Aren't you busy?"

"Only until His Majesty's birthday."

Kite concluded neatly and turned away. Judging by Martin's expression, he was the only one satisfied.

"Let's go."

Ibelin naturally moved from Alex's side to Kite's. As she took his arm, he clicked his tongue.

"That witch."

"Witch?"

"Sir Martin—the head of the Intelligence Department—that's her nickname."

"Quite a unique nickname."

Still, she was her grandfather's friend. Ibelin felt the nickname was a bit harsh. Simply hearing that she was close to her grandfather made Ibelin warm to Martin.

"There was a famous wolf in Intelligence back then, and she earned the nickname while working with him. Though honestly, she does act like a witch—she comes running to scold me at every turn."

"...Isn't that because you do things worth scolding?"

"Not really?"

No—with this man, he'd do more than enough. She reminded herself: this was the man who broke someone's leg just because he didn't like them. At least he seemed to have no intention of doing that to her.

Kite paused for a moment, then clicked his tongue. Something about that gesture reminded her of Martin.

"Well, she's not a bad person—but just in case, stay with me from now on."

"Aren't you busy?"

"It's fine—you'll make time for me."

She wondered what he meant by that.

---

Ibelin watched Kite across the room, passionately debating with the man seated opposite him while flipping through documents. For some reason, Kite had started dragging her along, though he did seat her on a sofa while he stood.

Was this really more considerate? She wasn't sure why she felt more burdened.

The finance official before her was a stranger, and she wasn't close to Emperor Leonhardt either. So why was she sitting here, doing nothing?

And had the Emperor even approved this?

Ibelin traced the rim of her teacup absently and swallowed a sigh. She still needed to tell Kite about the dream she had before meeting him. When would they ever be alone?

And so, Ibelin drank several cups of tea while watching the parade of people opposite Kite change.

"Dinner time."

It was evening when Leonhardt rose from his seat.

"You'll join us."

"...Yes."

She didn't have room for another meal, but she couldn't refuse the Emperor's invitation.

"Are you tired? You look exhausted."

She had been sitting in the guest seat, listening to conversation she didn't understand. She couldn't say that outright, so she smiled weakly.

"I'm fine."

"Must be from living in the provinces—you're tough."

Leonhardt still snapped at her occasionally. He really loved his uncle and disliked his partner. It was natural—people always wanted their loved one's match to be good enough.

Come to think of it, I don't think I lack anything, do I?

She lacked title, wealth, and power—but her mind was sound. If you gave points for being normal, she might even be better than Kite. At least she didn't harm others.

The ensuing meal was torturous. She left half the dishes she would normally have devoured with enthusiasm. She worried the chef might be disappointed. Still, there was one blessing.

After dinner, Leonhardt didn't meet anyone else. He scribbled on a pile of papers alone until Kite escorted him to bed. And at last, Ibelin was alone with Kite.

Her fingertips trembled slightly. She had so much—so very much—she wanted to say. Of course, she couldn't say it all.

I wanted to ask if you'd gone mad.

Given Kite's temperament, he wouldn't take that well. So she held back. Instead, she decided to speak of more important matters.

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