Home/I confined you, but I have no ill will/ch 32

32.

Ibelin looked around, confirmed no one else was present, and spoke.

"If you're going to drag me around like this tomorrow, at least let me change clothes."

"Fine—that's easy enough. More importantly, what did you want to say?"

"You knew?"

"You kept groaning and staring at me—how could I not?"

"Ugh."

What must others have thought seeing that? She dreaded the gossip that would spread through the palace. Since she would leave eventually, she just hoped the rumors wouldn't travel too far.

"I had a dream recently."

"A prophetic one."

Kite tilted his head toward her.

"What did you see?"

"I saw Duke Draven and a man called Unknown."

"Unknown?"

"Do you know him?"

"No—first time hearing that name. It's an odd one, though—I recall it from an ancient language I studied."

"Really? I learned some of that too, but I don't remember that word. What does it mean?"

"Nothing. It means 'nameless.'"

If it meant nameless, she understood.

"He has no name?"

"Yes. What did he look like?"

"He wore his hood low—I only saw his eyes."

"Seeing his eyes is enough. What color?"

"Silver."

At her answer, Kite, who had been leaning almost on her shoulder, jerked his head up.

"Not white?"

"White?"

"He meant to ask if you were blind. People don't usually have silver eyes, do they? Are you sure you didn't missee?"

"No. Those eyes—"

They had been so striking she couldn't forget them even if she tried. Perhaps it was her imagination, but it felt as if they had been looking right at her.

"I'll look into it."

"But wasn't it surprising that Duke Draven appeared?"

"Not really. He's always resented me."

Kite calmly explained why Draven hated him. Kite was Leonhardt's paternal uncle; Draven was his maternal uncle. Normally, the two would share power appropriately under the Emperor's watch.

"But a few years ago, my brother died."

A carriage accident. The Emperor had died instantly, along with the Empress, who was with him. The incident had peculiarities, and the Intelligence Department suspected foul play—but to this day, they had never found the culprit.

Thus, the current Emperor Leonhardt was left alone. Since he had no siblings, he ascended the throne without issue—but that was the problem. Those who had loyally protected the Imperial House began to harbor other ambitions.

The opponent was a child, too young to judge properly—and would find it difficult to wield the immense power in his hands.

That's what they thought.

Until Kite returned from the battlefields and took Leonhardt under his protection.

"If I hadn't come back, Leonhardt would have been devoured by House Barkel."

"Even though he's his sister's son?"

"When you're mad for power, blood means nothing. Why would a nephew be any different?"

For that reason, Kite had since focused on protecting Leonhardt. He raised the prestige of House Gracias, gathered talented people, and used that strength to shield Leonhardt.

"Does your mad behavior also have a reason?"

"What do you think?"

Kite smiled slyly, rounding his eyes. The sight made Ibelin's heart skip a beat.

"I think it does."

"Why?"

"You're the Empire's finest swordsman—many people must respect you for that. And you're older than Leonhardt, so some might think you could properly lead the Empire."

Those who weren't trying to exploit the Emperor, but were more like loyal subjects—they would prefer Kite as Emperor over Leonhardt. He was more trustworthy and proven than a child.

So Kite had to be flawed.

"That's an interesting theory. Do you really think I thought that far ahead?"

"I think you do have that side to you, though."

After all, truly benevolent people wouldn't be able to feign madness.

"But not to that extent—hmm."

It was hard to explain. Still, it was a relief he wasn't a complete madman. Ibelin racked her brain trying to articulate that—when suddenly, an eerie sensation crept up her spine.

Why?

As she looked around, Kite gently pulled her into an embrace and lightly pressed his lips to her forehead. It happened so abruptly that she couldn't react.

"Huh?"

A sound escaped her.

"Ah—?"

But another voice was mixed in—a stranger's.

She felt it. Startled, she looked up and met eyes with someone standing at a distance. His uniform marked him as a knight of the Emperor's personal guard. With a flushed face, he looked at Ibelin, then shifted his gaze to Kite.

Nod, nod.

After nodding with an unreadable expression, he walked off with a satisfied look.

Something's wrong. Ibelin tried to call after him, but he had already scurried away.

"L-Lord Kite?"

If she couldn't catch him, she'd at least ask for help. Turning back, she found Kite smiling nonchalantly. He had known the knight was watching.

She had heard rumors spread fast in the palace—and he had deliberately shown this to spread them. Once gossip circulated, their sudden engagement would be less suspicious.

What a spiteful man!

Ibelin trembled helplessly.

"What's wrong, darling?"

Don't call me darling!

"How are you going to fix this later?!"

"Fix what?"

"I need to get married someday!"

Ibelin dreamed of building a loving family like her parents had.

"It's fine—I'll make sure we can break off the engagement cleanly later."

"We haven't even had an engagement ceremony yet!"

"I'll give you a fortune when we do."

"...How much?"

"Enough to make you gasp."

Only then did Ibelin purse her lips and look away.

She's so easy to read. Kite chuckled softly and pressed closer to her. She flinched but didn't pull away—he quite liked that about her.

Her honesty and simplicity made her emotions easy to read. Since he had brought her here to make use of her, it was better that she was manageable.

Still—he really wanted to see her fight. His memory of the alley was hazy; the only thing that came to mind when he tried to recall was a pair of green eyes gleaming in the dark.

Lately, Kite had been looking into Baron Frillie's past—and had clashed with Martin in the process. That meant Frillie had been part of the Intelligence Department. Given the timing of his activities and the special abilities of his bloodline, he was most likely the Wolf.

The Wolf had been active around the same period as the Witch—and he had disappeared around the time Ibelin lost her parents.

The Wolf.

What a notorious figure he had been. A special operative who moved for the nation—he had resolved many cases during his time in Intelligence. If he had stayed to the end, would the Emperor and Empress have survived?

He didn't know. In truth, Kite hadn't been close with the late Emperor either.

His mother had sent Kite north to die. He had somehow survived and crawled his way up, but the futility and hatred he'd felt then still lived in a corner of his heart.

Why did he protect Leonhardt, then? Because the first time they met, Leonhardt smiled at him without reserve? Or because he seemed so fragile and vulnerable? There were many reasons—but none of them were the whole answer.

Still.

Over the years, the two had built a relationship—uncle and nephew, lord and knight. He didn't want to lose the family he'd gained so late. So he would wait.

Draven.

He waited for that fool to move. Once he did, destroying him wouldn't be hard. Afterward, the cleanup might be troublesome—but it would still be better than letting him live.

Afterward, they moved to a lounge. Ibelin sat on the sofa the moment she entered.

"Tired?"

Kite asked, watching her eyelids droop. She nodded, then trembled in frustration.

She looked like an angry squirrel. Kite gladly offered Ibelin his shoulder. He sat beside her and wrapped his arms around her stiff frame—she opened her eyes and glared at him.

"Give a little, take a little?"

"I suppose so."

Grumbling, Ibelin rested her head on Kite's shoulder. It felt strange—yet for some reason, she didn't feel like pulling away.

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