Home/I confined you, but I have no ill will/ch 33

33.

White eyelashes blinked slowly, revealing uniquely gleaming silver eyes—proof of his inherited bloodline.

"I dozed off for a moment."

But the man who called himself Unknown did not like his eyes. Given everything he had endured because of them, that was only natural. He had gained prophetic ability because of them, yet not once had it worked in his favor.

Unknown had always lived in a lonely, painful world.

And yet.

He had encountered a certain woman—small in stature, with green eyes and brown hair. She had entered his dreams and met his gaze. Until now, he had believed he was the only one in this world with prophetic ability—but he was wrong.

Now—what should he do?

Currently, it was the Teyrin Empire that held his leash. If they learned a new seer had appeared, they would eagerly try to capture her. But did he really need to tell them? What benefit was there in playing the obedient dog?

Wouldn't it be better to use another seer to escape from here? Using one naive-looking person was hardly difficult for him.

Take Draven, for example—after using prophecy to predict future events a few times, he had become pathetically dependent.

Foolish human.

Unknown could never bet everything to gain more power, as Draven did—partly because he had nothing to begin with.

He narrowed his eyes and smiled. He wanted to learn more about the other seer. For that, he felt he could do anything—absolutely anything.

---

She had slept poorly. Ibelin, who usually fell asleep as soon as she lay down, tossed and turned until nearly dawn.

"You look pale."

Lucen approached with a worried expression.

"I couldn't sleep well."

"Shall I tell Lord Kite?"

"No—it's fine. It's not so bad that I can't move."

Besides, she doubted Kite was the type to understand someone not sleeping well.

Ibelin put on the clothes Kite had sent over. Unlike the dresses she had worn so far, this time it was a woman's hunting outfit—easy to move in. It had a leather belt at the waist, so she could carry whatever she wanted.

"Am I allowed to carry weapons?"

"I hear you've been given permission."

"Hmm."

Even with permission, openly displaying them seemed unwise. After a moment's thought, Ibelin unbuckled the belt and concealed her gun and dagger inside her outer garment. It bulged slightly, but hiding them even a little was better.

Lucen watched her silently.

"Are you skilled with a gun?"

"More than with a bow."

"Can you also use a sword?"

"I know how, but I have no talent for it."

Unable to use it as well as her grandfather, Ibelin had given up on the sword and focused on ranged weapons, which suited her better—her grandfather had said that was the right choice.

"I see."

Though she said it casually, Lucen couldn't fully believe her. Her archery skills alone were impressive—and she claimed to handle a gun even better. Guns hadn't been developed long ago and were still not widespread. Just what kind of training had Baron Frillie given his granddaughter?

"I'm ready."

"Then I'll guide you."

"Yes!"

The Ibelin who fell in beside him looked ordinary on the outside—but inside, extraordinary abilities were hidden. Otherwise, Kite wouldn't keep her by his side.

Lucen had also heard that Baron Frillie had been with the Intelligence Department. And in that department, there were many with unique abilities that couldn't be explained by modern standards—Martin was one of them.

She could hear many things. Not just human speech, but the sounds of all living things. She claimed there were limits, but even so, Martin was a dangerously formidable person.

Thanks to her, Kite had avoided danger several times—yet Lucen never let his guard down. Because the Intelligence Department had always been on the Emperor's side.

"Today should be less stressful than yesterday."

Ibelin looked up at him in puzzlement.

"You'll see."

And Lucen's words proved true.

---

Today, Ibelin's mind was at ease—though whether the Emperor felt the same was another matter.

"Your Majesty, please try this one next."

The maids were devotedly adorning the Emperor.

With guests from many nations gathering, he couldn't afford to look weak—so the young Emperor needed to be made radiant. He changed clothes and accessories several times.

"Ugh."

Even watching was exhausting.

"It's an imperial duty."

Kite occasionally interjected while watching the Emperor.

"That color doesn't suit His Majesty—fetch the blue."

Whether he had a good eye or not, each change of color made Leonhardt's appearance stand out more.

"It shouldn't be too pretty—remove that ornament."

"Yes!"

The maids moved eagerly at Kite's words. After half a day of this, Leonhardt's stiff posture began to sag.

"Let's take a break."

It was well past noon when rest was finally declared.

"Ugh."

Leonhardt sprawled on the sofa and groaned.

"Uncle—over here."

His small hand fluttered a few times before falling limp.

"I'll help."

Kite sat beside Leonhardt and gently massaged his small body. Only then did a relieved sigh escape his lips.

"What would you like to eat?"

"Just fruit juice. I'll have to do the same thing this afternoon."

"The birthday banquet starts tomorrow."

"I'll have to sit all day listening to chatterers."

"There are especially many guests this time."

"Now that I've come of age, more people are eyeing the empress's position."

"That's a good thing."

At Kite's words, Leonhardt made a sour face.

"If it's so good, why are you the one getting engaged first?"

"Exactly—so you should get engaged soon too, nephew."

"But there's no house I like."

If the house was too small, it wouldn't help the Empire; if too large, it risked seizing power. So the choice had to be among counts or marquises—but there were no ladies his age there.

"There's Lady Grace, six years younger, isn't there?"

"Too young! What would she know at that age!"

"Then how about the other side? House Killen has Lady Sernen, now eighteen."

"Yes—she might be better. Though she's three years older than me."

Leonhardt would turn fifteen on his birthday—still young for marriage, but old enough for an engagement.

"Still, I don't like Marquis Killen. He's too greedy—and close to House Barkel."

"You're harsh on your maternal relatives."

"Can you blame me?"

Leonhardt said firmly and fell silent.

"If all else fails, we could look beyond the Empire."

"Beyond."

Listening to their exchange, Ibelin partly understood Leonhardt's burden. These were heavy matters for a young boy, but it couldn't be helped. Kite knew that too—that was why he indulged his nephew as much as possible.

"By the way—do you really, truly love Lady Ibelin? Don't dodge the question—tell me straight."

At Leonhardt's words, Kite turned to Ibelin. A breeze stirred his golden hair, and the blue eyes peeking through were captivating—so beautiful that if beauty took human form, it would look like that.

Looking at her, Kite smiled.

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