"Sir… are you heading to war again?"
Leone had learned the signs. Whenever Lancer came home in a rush like this, it meant he was about to leave. The past few times had all been the same.
"Yeah. This time it's the northern tribes. Once they're dealt with, I'll move south and finish off the rebels there. If everything goes smoothly, the Empire might finally get back on track."
The state of the Empire was even more chaotic than Lancer had first imagined—yet, strangely, better as well.
Honest might have been the main villain, but no nation rotted because of a single man. Lancer's original plan to eliminate Honest had been more like emergency surgery. How long the patient would survive afterward? No one could say.
But now things were different.
The great purge had shaken the entire nation. Every hidden problem had detonated ahead of schedule. On the surface, the Empire looked battered by wind and rain—but in truth, forcing those festering issues into the open before they reached their breaking point was a blessing. Once a problem was resolved, it ceased to be a problem.
At least for a time, once the Empire weathered this storm, it could rise to its peak again.
As for what happened afterward… that had nothing to do with him. A man's life barely stretched a century. If he could secure a hundred years of stability for the Empire, that was already something to take pride in. What country in this world lasted forever?
But before that—
"Come to my room in a bit."
The abruptness of his words made Leone freeze for a moment. Just a moment. She nodded and went back to clearing the table.
Lancer returned to his room and sank into the sofa, letting his body fall into the cushions.
He had to settle things with Leone.
After crushing the northern tribes, he would at most return to the Capital to deliver a brief report before heading south. Time wouldn't wait. And once Honest was dealt with, it would be nearly time for him to leave altogether. Better to take care of things now than scramble at the last minute.
But after several minutes, Leone still hadn't come in.
Cleaning up shouldn't take this long, should it?
Knock, knock.
"Sir."
"Come in."
The door opened the moment he finished speaking.
And Lancer's eyes went wide.
"Leone?! You—"
The woman standing in the doorway was no longer dressed in her maid uniform.
She wore sheer lingerie.
The fabric covered more than half her body, yet its translucence only heightened the allure. Paired with the shy flush on her face, the sight made his throat tighten.
Leone's cheeks were crimson. One hand gripped her opposite wrist behind her back. But she didn't look away. She met his gaze head-on.
"Sir… I'm ready."
Ready? Ready for what? Wait—!
Only then did Lancer realize how ambiguous his earlier words might have sounded.
"Leone, you've misunderstood. What I meant was—I want to remove your status as a 'slave.'"
His throat dry, he strode forward and, under her stunned gaze, reached up and grasped the collar around her neck.
Clink.
With a crisp snap, the metal ring broke in his hand. He twisted the other side free and lifted it off her neck.
The moment it came off, he stepped back.
The warmth radiating from her skin, her scent—it was making his head swim. His face was probably red. To preserve at least a shred of dignity, he quickly turned away.
"Leone. You're free now."
He had imagined this moment before. He'd expected joy, disbelief—something.
But why was there no sound behind him?
Curiosity overcame him. He turned back.
Her face was pale.
The provocative outfit now looked strangely out of place on her. Tears clung to the corners of her eyes. It didn't look like joy. And it didn't look like relief.
It looked like despair.
"Leone? What's wrong?"
The question, simple as it was, became the spark.
The fragile control she'd been clinging to shattered. Tears spilled freely, large drops striking the floor. Her stiff expression twisted with sobs.
"I… I understand… Sir…"
Understand what?!
Why could he never understand the people around him?
When she turned and walked toward the door, something in his chest tightened. If he let her leave like this, he felt he would regret it.
He caught her wrist.
"Tell me what's going on first."
"Sir… doesn't… doesn't want me anymore… I… I…"
Her words dissolved into sobs. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably.
Only then did Lancer realize—after living here for a year and a half, he still wasn't truly of this country.
He couldn't understand what it meant for a girl who grew up in the slums to finally find a "home"—and to cling to it, even as a slave.
For Leone, her life now was better than anything before.
Hot meals. A warm house. A soft bed. No more scrambling for survival. No more fear of dark alleys at night. Even her so-called "master" treated her gently.
To her, it was a dream.
To Lancer, he was giving her freedom.
To Leone, the dream was ending.
"Are you an idiot? I said I'd restore your status as a free citizen. When did I ever say I was throwing you out? Enough. Stop crying."
He had never intended to send her away. He had planned to transfer his property to her someday, ask Budo and the others to look after her.
He was the one who would leave.
Not her.
But looking at the girl whose tears had finally stopped because of a single sentence, he wisely chose not to say that part.
Leone stared at him, stunned. Her eyes widened as if searching for any sign he was joking.
Seconds passed under his steady gaze before she believed him.
Her head lowered, face burning with embarrassment—whether from her earlier reaction or something else entirely, even she didn't know.
Then, suddenly, she threw her arms around him.
The sudden embrace caught him completely off guard.
"Sir… does this mean I'm not a slave anymore?"
Though she clung to him, she tilted her head up and stared directly into his eyes.
The intensity in them made his breath hitch.
He had never once flinched before enemies hundreds of times his number on the battlefield.
Yet now, instinctively, he wanted to retreat.
But then he remembered the look in her eyes.
He took a deep breath and met her gaze with equal firmness.
"Yes."
At his steady tone, at the certainty in his eyes, at the masculine presence radiating from him, Leone bit her lip.
Her voice trembled when she finally spoke.
"Then… may I… have a hug?"
Her cheeks were still streaked with tears, tinged with an unusual flush. She looked at him with naked anticipation.
Waiting.
Lancer wanted to tell himself that she only meant a simple embrace.
But the shy yet resolute expression on her face told him otherwise.
He didn't know how extraordinary his kindness seemed to her. To him, he was simply following his own principles. Yet those very principles—so different from the cruelty she had known—had become something radiant in the darkness of her past.
And now, faced with Leone's sudden outpouring—
He understood.
He had to respond.
That was a man's resolve.
---
T/N: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT IS HE GONNA??? GONNA?? BONE LEONE??? I THINK SHES ONLY 17 NOW RIGHT? OUGHHH
i have to assume hes 19... or MAYBE 20 AT MOST AT MOOOST
older leone is soo fine :sob: why couldnt it be after a timeskipppp WAIT MAYBE LANCER IS NOT GONNA DO ANYTHING
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