Home/I confined you, but I have no ill will/ch 99

99.

After Kite left, Ibelin was lost in thought for a long time.

Being adopted into another house made the most sense rationally. High society prized lineage—the Frillie name, especially under a greedy man like Berman, would make her prey.

But—

"Frillie."

She rolled the name in her mouth. To her, Frillie meant her grandfather, Kailun—the only family who'd taken her in, taught her to survive, and given her warmth.

Her feet took her to Kailun.

Knock—

"Come in."

He looked up from his book, seeing her expression.

"Tell me, Ibelin."

"Grandfather—Lord Kite suggested I be adopted."

"Ah—Cromwell, then. The colonel is a good man. Not a bad offer."

"You knew?"

"No—but it's the only house you'd fit into. Kite's reputation is so bad that only Cromwell's family would wholeheartedly support him."

"You know him?"

"From the same front. So—what's your worry?"

"I know adoption is best, but I don't want to."

"I see. But Ibelin, the Frillie name now belongs to Berman—it's just a shell. It's too light a name to face the vultures of the capital. You don't need to carry that burden. Let Kite arrange the adoption—it's for your good."

His voice was kind, but tinged with sorrow. She shook her head without hesitation.

"No—I won't be adopted."

"Ibelin."

"To me, the Frillie name isn't a shell—it's the strongest, proudest name you gave me."

She clasped his wrinkled hands.

"I'll stand at the altar proudly as Kailun El Frillie's granddaughter—no matter what anyone says."

"And Berman?"

Her gaze dropped to her calf, where she usually hid weapons. Kailun stared blankly—he'd raised her well, yet she'd resort to threats. Knowing she'd follow through, he pressed down a smile.

Berman's in for trouble.

"Ahem."

He cleared his throat, looking away—but his reddened ears betrayed him.

"Stubborn—you take after me. I won't stop you. But if you act, do it thoroughly."

"Don't worry."

She smiled.

"I'm good at what I've learned."

Leaving his room, the heavy worry melted away. She found Kite and made her decision clear.

"I won't change my name."

"Really?"

He looked surprised, then smiled—no sign of persuasion.

"May I ask why?"

"I like my name. And hiding from weakness doesn't suit me—I'll smash through."

Her bold declaration made him laugh.

"Good—that's my fiancée. It doesn't matter what family you're from—only that you stand by my side."

He pulled her into a gentle embrace.

"But if you keep the Frillie name, you'll have to deal with uninvited guests soon. Need help?"

"No—I can handle them myself."

Her confident answer pleased him.

"I'll go help with the preparations."

"Good—I'll join you soon."

He waved warmly. But the moment she left, his expression vanished. All he wanted was to marry his beloved—why did so many interfere? He'd have had others deal with them, but he respected her will.

I've become soft.

He'd have broken their legs before—the Bermans were lucky.

---

Berman practically fell from the carriage, exhausted. He'd stayed in it to rush to the capital; his backside was numb. Vivian was the same—only Derick, who'd had knight training, seemed fine.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't ask me?"

Vivian complained—Derick waved dismissively.

"Rest if you're tired."

"Brother!"

"Lower your voice—we're in the capital."

She covered her mouth.

Before the grand mansion, guards stood watch—their presence was intimidating. They watched as the carriage stopped.

Derick approached.

"Halt—state your name."

"I'm Derick of House Frillie—Ibelin, who's to marry the Archduke, is one of us."

The guards exchanged glances; one went inside.

"Wait."

Though annoyed, Derick held back—causing a scene would help nothing. Berman joined him.

The guard returned.

"You may enter."

Derick straightened his clothes and entered—a butler awaited.

"Welcome—I'm Merin, butler of House Gracias. I'll guide you."

"Thank you."

Now Berman took the lead.

The walk was long—the mansion was enormous. Vivian complained about no carriage.

"Apologies—House Gracias doesn't provide carriages for non-guest visitors."

It was insulting, but Berman held his tongue.

Finally, they arrived. Vivian's jaw dropped at the size and splendor—nothing like their provincial manor.

I wanted to live in a house like this.

How happy she'd be. She followed her father and brother inside.

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