Chapter 95

Lirika just wanted that much. She wanted to see his smiling face. She should have stayed and not run away. She should have smiled for him once.

Disgusted with her foolish and stupid self, Rudia clung to Altears and sobbed uncontrollably.

Tears flowed endlessly. She was worried that her eyes would melt, but she couldn't stop.

When she cried until she was exhausted, she felt numb.

The sound of a log collapsing in the fireplace echoed. Her own labored breathing could be heard. Slowly, she felt the warmth of the arms holding her. Altears' embrace was firm. She felt embarrassed for breaking down and crying so much.

When she showed signs of calming down, Altears took out a handkerchief and handed it to her. Rudia wiped her face with the handkerchief.

"Phew—"

She took a long breath and lifted her face.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Altears smiled faintly. For some reason, his gaze made her feel embarrassed, but she couldn't look away.

'I see.'

She thought she would be scolded, but she felt relieved that she wasn't.

She knew that what she did was a mistake, a bad thing, and something to be criticized. She criticized herself.

Still, she wanted to be comforted.

Altears didn't criticize her. For some reason, she laughed.

"Why are you laughing?"

"No, it's just—thinking about the experience of a victor made me laugh."

She smiled, and Altears momentarily caught his breath. Was it because he had lost more of his edge?

Was it like shedding a layer?

His expression had become more transparent. He had been pale and sharp like winter sunlight, but now he was like spring sunshine. Even though it was the same twilight, it was completely different.

Losing her words, she stared at him in a trance, and Rudia pulled away, sat to the side, and leaned her head against the sofa back, facing him.

"So, I have no intention of losing to Barat. I can't forgive him for touching Lirika in this life."

I want Barat to break.

Even after crying so much, her tears only slightly reddened her eyes without diminishing her beauty.

Rudia asked,

"Isn't that the same for you?"

"Yes."

Altears nodded. It would be over if he just kept Attil alive and passed the empire to him.

He thought so. But too much had changed, and it was no longer a 'simple matter.'

Altears thought of his daughter.

That's not love!

In the end, the mage was right.

* * *

Lirika woke up feeling confused in the morning. Brin smiled and said,

"His Majesty and Her Majesty visited yesterday."

"Yeah, they came suddenly in the early morning..."

They hugged her so tightly it hurt. Her mother kept saying she loved her, was sorry, and would make her happy, while her father patted her and pressed her head so hard it hurt, and then left...

"There was a smell of alcohol."

"Really?"

Brin covered her mouth and laughed. Lirika couldn't help but laugh too.

She thought stories about drunk fathers hugging tightly and rubbing their beards against their children only happened in fairy tales.

He didn't rub her cheeks, but he hugged her tightly, patted her shoulder as if encouraging her, and said, "Well done," before leaving with her mother.

It was nice to see them walking side by side.

"Brin, do you think Mother looks more beautiful?"

"Yes?"

"Yeah, she seems to have become even more beautiful overnight. If she keeps getting prettier, she might turn into a fairy and disappear into the forest."

Sighing, Lirika looked at her, and Brin chuckled.

"Don't worry, if Her Majesty disappears, she'll take you with her."

"Really?"

When Lirika asked cautiously, Brin firmly replied, "Of course."

Lirika smiled and said, "That's a relief." Even if the ground was muddy, spring was delightful.

The wind no longer felt like it would tear her ears off; it was soft. The sticky mud was fun to play in as long as she wore sturdy boots.

But after slipping badly and getting her clothes covered in mud, she stopped.

Attil seemed busy in his own way but always made time for Lirika.

He often brought people to the townhouse he rented anonymously and showed them to Lirika.

"How about it? Any bad vibes?"

"Hmm, that one, and that one. Oh, and that one too."

Attil swore coarsely. It was the kind of language a slum girl like Lirika would use. She must have learned it from the shoe-shiner.

"Thanks. I'll return the favor later."

Attil ruffled Lirika's bangs, kissed her, and quickly disappeared with the people.

Each time Attil brought people, the number of those with bad vibes decreased.

"How about today?"

Lirika, dressed as a maid, had just gone around the people. She gave a thumbs-up.

"No one gives me a bad feeling."

"Great!"

Attil clenched his fist. "Finally!" he exclaimed, grinning.

"My eyes are getting better. Hmm, who do you like?"

"Hmm, usually people who come to such a fancy mansion either shrink back or act loud and pretentious. But that hairstyle..."

Lirika drew a line by her head.

The boy with bright ginger hair and freckles stood out.

"Oh, Jazz?"

The boy with a distinctive hair scratch was impressive. He also wore a large, rectangular cleaver on his back, which was unusual.

"Yeah, he seemed fine."

Lirika offered a cookie on a tray, and he took it carefully, then carried the whole plate away. When she checked, he was eating the cookies enthusiastically. He was the only one who finished all the cookies.

"Right, that kid has guts."

Attil grinned and tousled Lirika's hair.

"Let's go with him. I like him too."

Wondering what he was planning, Lirika later found out Attil had chosen him as a companion.

"Ah, Lirika, this is Jazz, my new companion from today."

Lirika's eyes widened in surprise as she looked at Jazz. How out of place he looked in the Black Dragon Room.

He wore a newsboy cap pulled down, suspenders, loose pants, and boots...

'That jacket must have been bought by Attil.'

It was obvious from how it didn't match the rest of his outfit. Jazz also looked surprised as he stared at Lirika.

He glared at Attil, annoyed.

"That guy."

"You have a good eye."

"I can't forget such a pretty face."

Lirika's eyes widened at the strong southern accent, and Attil's eyes narrowed. He grabbed Jazz's collar.

"If you lay a finger on my sister, I'll kill you."

Jazz laughed at that. Attil shook him.

"Where did your answer go?"

"I got it."

Attil finally let go of Jazz.

Jazz took off his cap and bowed.

"I'm Jazz."

It was a very awkward, almost convulsive greeting. It seemed he either hated or was unaccustomed to greeting people this way. Lirika bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

"Lirika, daughter of Takar. But if you don't like greeting, you don't have to."

"That's not it. I'm just not used to it. I'm a princess of the slums, after all."

"Really?"

Jazz put his cap back on and smirked.

"I don't like bowing. I won't do it if I don't want to."

"Then you should learn. You look like you hate it."

Lirika finally laughed, and Jazz hunched his shoulders and pulled down his cap brim.

"John said I should learn, but I don't really."

Attil chuckled from the side. Pi smiled wryly, and Brando sighed. Lirika, sensing the mood, straightened her back and said,

"Still, since you're going to be Attil's companion, you should follow the rules. Attil tends to act on his own, so I'd like you to keep him in check."

"Wait, what do you mean by acting on his own?"

Attil frowned and asked, and Lirika replied, "Just as it sounds." Brando and Pi looked like they had just had a refreshing drink.

Jazz grinned.

"I don't like going out because it's suffocating. I'll just do my work."

He leaned in and whispered to Lirika, glancing at Attil.

"Seeing you choose me as a companion, I know you're not just anyone."

It was a whisper, but everyone heard it. It was meant to be heard. Attil grumbled, "Damn."

"I have to kick him out before he says more. Let's go."

Jazz tipped his cap and followed Attil out. He probably wanted to make sure Jazz didn't get into trouble alone.

After Attil left, Lirika looked at Brando and Pi.

"Is it okay?"

"It'll be a lot of talk."

Brando sighed again. Pi frowned.

"I understand your thoughts, but the resentment will be strong. It depends on who you get as a companion in the future."

"Is it okay for Pi?"

Lirika asked cautiously. Pi was a direct descendant of the Sandar Marquis. If he was treated like a slum boy, wouldn't he be angry?

Pi smiled.

"I'm just a bonus with a life attached. I should have died when I kidnapped you in the carriage."

"Ah, that's true. But people's