Home/I confined you, but I have no ill will/ch 45

45.

Leonhardt tapped the armrest of his chair. Only when a familiar face entered the study did he speak.

"Finally here?"

Crossing his legs and leaning back, he looked quite arrogant—but he was the Emperor, and no one could say a word. That included Kite standing before him.

If anything, Kite would just find whatever Leonhardt did adorable.

I'm not a child anymore.

He wondered how long they'd keep treating him like one.

"Anyway—is Lady Ibelin alright?"

"Yes, the physician said she's fine. Still, I'll keep an eye on her for now—collapsing for no apparent reason is concerning."

"That's probably wise."

Worrying about one's fiancée was natural—but coming from Kite, it seemed strange. Leonhardt had been suspicious ever since Kite brought her. Given his personality, she couldn't be a genuine fiancée—more likely someone useful. But Ibelin didn't give off that kind of aura—like a great warrior or a cunning mastermind.

"She'll need to take her prescribed medicine and manage her health."

"Manage?"

"Yes—I think she's too thin."

Too thin? Compared to other noble ladies, she was average—neither too thin nor too heavy. Yet Kite seemed genuinely concerned.

"Really?"

"That's why she collapsed—she doesn't take care of herself."

"Surely you're not comparing her to your knights?"

"Of course not."

His answer was firm, but somehow unconvincing.

"Keep in mind that most noble ladies have less than half the stamina of knights."

"I know that much."

He probably did—but knowing and applying it were different.

"Fine—if you understand, let's end that topic. Shall we talk about something else?"

Leonhardt crooked his finger at Kite, who stepped closer.

"This incident—how did you find out?"

Kite had warned Leonhardt twice—first that the ceramic might explode, and second, after Ibelin collapsed, that they should stop accepting gifts. Thanks to that, the banquet passed without incident—but naturally, he was curious.

"Don't lie."

"Have I ever lied to you?"

They had promised—whenever they were just uncle and nephew, they'd speak freely and never lie.

"You have."

Leonhardt grumbled.

"Remember when you said I could become a knight as strong as you?"

Unfortunately, Leonhardt took after his mother rather than his father, who had some talent in swordsmanship. Lacking both stamina and skill, he'd learned but couldn't match Kite.

"Would you rather I crush a child's dream?"

Leonhardt's lips puckered.

"So how did you get that information?"

"Leonhardt—what I'm about to say is our secret."

"Okay—secret!"

"Actually, Ibelin can see the future."

Leonhardt blinked blankly.

"In this age of vanished magic—the bloodline of seers still exists?"

"So it seems. She said she sees the future in dreams."

"Can she see whatever she wants?"

"No—she said she can't."

"So she dreamed about this incident too?"

"Yes."

"Wow."

How fascinating. Leonhardt knew Ibelin was from House Frillie—and Martin had told him that the Wolf of the Intelligence Department came from that line. Though she hadn't named the Wolf, the story added up. The Wolf had keen intuition and often succeeded in missions others found difficult.

If he too had prophetic ability, it all made sense.

"That's an amazing ability. It must be kept secret."

"Yes—it must."

They agreed on that.

"No wonder—you knew too much. The Imperial Intelligence couldn't figure it out."

"What did they say?"

"They know something happened that they can't explain—they just don't know what. They're sensitive about it, so it's best to stay quiet for now."

"Alright—shall we end this conversation here?"

"Yes."

Kite looked away—ready to return to being a subject and Emperor.

"Hah—that was important, but I have another question."

"What?"

"What do you think of Lady Ibelin?"

Kite tilted his head in puzzlement.

"Does that matter?"

"I think it does."

This clueless uncle doesn't realize. He probably wouldn't figure it out anytime soon.

Kite's harsh childhood had made him dull to his own emotions. He acted cool and rational—but that wasn't everything. Leonhardt thought Kite held some feeling for Ibelin.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have grabbed the Emperor and run when she collapsed—he still felt dizzy recalling it. People still talked about that rudeness.

The only saving grace was that most noble ladies saw it favorably.

The rumor spread that even the Mad Dog cherished his fiancée—for whatever reason, it diluted Kite's infamy.

He must like her. To Leonhardt, it seemed so. Kite had brought Ibelin for use—but had grown fond of her. Fondness grew fast and often became love.

So if that was the path, he hoped it would lead to happiness.

"Be good to Lady Ibelin."

"Excuse me?"

"Advice from your nephew to his dense uncle."

He'd regret it later when he realized his own feelings—so Leonhardt, more mature in that regard, would help him. He nodded.

"Oh—about the gifts stored in the treasury—no issues. Intelligence cross-checked and found them all safe."

"I see."

Draven had covered his tracks well. The items that should have exploded were all intact, and Intelligence found nothing.

"Now I'm fairly certain."

Leonhardt rose and walked to the window.

"My maternal uncle seems dissatisfied with his nephew on the throne."

"Likely—he's always been greedy."

"...We can talk like this when we're alone, but don't call him that outside."

"Understood, Your Majesty."

"Good!"

Spinning around, Leonhardt smiled.

"Archduke—you may leave early today."

"Won't that be dangerous?"

"Don't underestimate the Imperial Knights—they're plenty strong."

"I suppose."

Kite's expression showed he didn't quite accept that—for him, most people were weak, so it couldn't be helped.

Back   Next