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Chapter 05: A Grand Duke of the North Lives in Our House!

Episode 35

His thunderous voice boomed as if he'd swallowed a steam engine for supper. I blinked and asked back:

"Someone else's cake...?"

"For the young master's birthday, you ordered some fancy restaurant cake! And again today for the picnic!"

"..."

Ah, this guy... he's genuinely upset...

Let me be clear—I don't dislike the chef's cakes. Leticia loved his strawberry cake. Of course, that restaurant cake was delicious too...

"No, no—today was a group outing, so Daddy bought it. And for the birthday, there was already so much cooking to do in the kitchen that I thought making a cake too would be too much work."

"..."

"If you push yourself just because it's a birthday and end up hurting yourself, what then? You need to stay healthy to keep making me delicious food."

"...Hmph."

The chef quickly covered his mouth. I wasn't sure what had moved him, but clearly something had struck a chord.

"...Really?"

His voice softened, and I nodded eagerly.

"Yeah!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!"

"Can I trust you?"

"Oh, I said yes!"

"Then, then..."

The chef took a deep breath. Hmm, it felt like I should cover my ears.

"Then I'll make one for you too—you can share it with the young master!"

Sure enough, his bellow made my ears ring. Naturally, I wanted to nod, but unfortunately, I couldn't.

"...Would Nanny allow it?"

"..."

"Chef, can you win against our nanny?"

The chef, who had been puffing out his chest, deflated instantly. Guess I asked the wrong question.

"Well, you know, my lady—children are supposed to listen to their nannies."

"Yeah, I know."

"I'll pack you some cookies, so eat those. I'll make the cake just for young master Rian and send it up."

The chef picked up a cookie from the cooling rack and popped it into my mouth. Still slightly warm, it was soft and chewy inside.

"This is only for children who visit the kitchen, you know. If young master Rian comes, I'll give him some too. So next time, bring him along."

"Okaaay."

I mumbled through the cookie and waved. I couldn't picture Adrian coming to the kitchen just for cookies.

---

Marianne lay staring blankly at the ceiling. The physician had ordered her to rest with hot compresses for at least two days, and then be careful for another two weeks after that.

'So suddenly...'

She'd only strained it a little, yet now she had to lie still. It felt almost unfair that a brief mistake would cost her days of rest. Then another thought struck her.

'...At least it happened while she's not here.'

Branda Belando. If she were at the manor, she'd have used the nanny's incapacity as an excuse to get close to Leticia again. With that in mind, even this ridiculous injury could be viewed positively. Besides, lately both Leticia and Adrian had been acting remarkably mature.

"Mom..."

At the sudden voice, Marianne turned her head while still lying down. Her daughter peeked through the door, worry etched on her face.

"Mom, does it hurt?"

"Lucia, shouldn't you be playing with your friends?"

"They said you got hurt..."

Lucia crept into the room. Her small face crumpled as if she was about to cry.

"Where does it hurt? Your back?"

"I'll be better soon. Oh, would you help me with the compress?"

"Yes!"

The fact that she could help made the six-year-old's face fill with determination. Marianne loosened her clothes, turned over, and lay on her stomach.

"Here? Is it here?"

"Mmm, a little lower."

Lucia's tiny hands touched her back. She was a child who always said it was fine, even when her mother was too busy caring for other children to pay her much attention. Marianne thought this would be a good chance to spend some time with her daughter as she waited for the cold compress. But—

A gentle warmth enveloped her back. As the comforting sensation spread through her body, a bright light flooded the room.

Fwoosh.

Startled by the sudden light, Marianne lifted her head while still lying down. In the window's reflection, she saw her daughter—more precisely, saw her pouring a white light into her back...

"...Lucia?"

Marianne sat up and grabbed her daughter. She'd twisted her body sharply, yet no pain remained in her back—it felt oddly foreign.

"You, just now... what, what did you do?"

Her flustered question must have sounded like an accusation, because the young girl flinched.

"I-I don't know. I just, suddenly..."

Lucia stammered, unable to explain, but Marianne knew what her now-light body meant.

That healing light, which had spread wide enough to fill the room, and the body now free of pain—it was the power of a Saintess.

---

In the study, only the sound of pages turning could be heard. The butler bowed his head toward the expressionless Fabian.

"The young lady said she first visited Amore with you, but I recalled the young mistress mentioning she'd had the young lady's clothes fitted there..."

"..."

"I thought perhaps my memory was failing due to age, so I double-checked... and judged it best to report it to you."

The butler had come just moments ago with a grave expression, having discovered that expenses for Leticia's clothing and accessories had been inflated. The nanny Marianne had originally managed Leticia's expenses, but displeased by that arrangement, Branda had seized an opportunity and taken over.

"As butler, I failed in my duty. I have no excuse."

"Never mind. It would have been difficult for you to interfere when the future mistress was involved."

The butler bowed his head apologetically. Fabian stroked his chin, lost in thought.

"...Just in case, let me ask."

"Please speak."

"While Branda was at the manor, did Leticia ever get hurt... or go without proper meals?"

Even as he said it, it felt absurd. Branda had been overly doting on the child. The seasoned butler bowed without showing any discomfort.

"The young lady did hurt herself once after falling while trying to hit the annex children."

"..."

"And there were quite a few times she refused meals and filled up on desserts instead."

"...Hmm."

To the awkward Count, the butler offered what consolation he could—children just do that, they prefer snacks to meals, and so on. It didn't quite sink in.

"I don't understand."

Fabian clicked his tongue lightly.

"If she needed funds, I would have given her more."

After all, when Carlos inherited the title, Branda would become the mistress of House Belando. There was no reason to embezzle property that would eventually be hers. The butler seemed to think so too, and after a moment's consideration, spoke.

"It's hard to guess the young mistress's intentions, but I've heard that some people worry about budget cuts the following year if the current year's budget has too much surplus."

"You mean she did this because she was worried next year's allowance might be reduced?"

"Of course, it would be best to ask her directly, but for now, that seems like a possible explanation."

Fabian had largely agreed with Branda's philosophy that girls should be raised as comfortably as possible. Especially Leticia, a child with many vulnerabilities—it was better to show that she was treated well as the Belando Count's daughter so she wouldn't be looked down upon after marriage.

So Leticia's allowance was on par with what most noble families spent on a debutante's preparations. Even with the embezzlement, she had lived at a similar standard to other comfortably-off noble daughters—meaning she hadn't been living in poverty.

"...What would you like to do?"

The butler asked carefully. Fabian didn't answer easily. If the butler's guess was correct, there was no need to inflate costs or falsify records—she could just spend it all. If she needed money, she could have sent him a letter. There was no reason to covet wealth that was already destined to be hers.

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