Chapter 15: Decisions
The Count sat down, settling back into his chair.
"Still," he said, "not bad. Given that you're six years old, it was actually well done."
The corner of Lucian's mouth twitched.
Six years old.
Right. He was six.
He quietly revised his earlier assessment of his father. "Ruthless" was being upgraded to "ruthless and two-faced."
Coming from someone in Lucian's position, that kind of compliment landed about the same as an insult.
"If I hadn't already spoken with Lakyus," the Count continued, "even I might have believed you."
Something dropped in Lucian's chest.
He had already spoken with Lakyus?
What had she told him?
His mind ran through the possibilities at speed. Lakyus hadn't recited every line of those knight novels to their father, had she?
"Your sister told me you'd stayed behind to cleanse the demon's soul." The Count's voice carried something that was difficult to name.
Right. Lucian had said exactly that.
Lucian said nothing and kept his eyes down.
"The Livian family," the Count said, his tone shifting, a faint contempt coming into it. "A minor noble like that. Killing him is killing him."
Lucian raised his head and looked at his father.
"The heir to the Aindra family," the Count continued, his gaze settling on Lucian, brow faintly creasing, "putting a knife to himself several times. That was beneath you."
The words were a rebuke. And yet Lucian could distinctly hear something else in them.
Something almost like quiet approval.
No. Not quite.
More like mild disdain. The particular variety of parental disdain that meant: why did my son think so little of himself?
Lucian blinked.
His read of his father had apparently been off.
He had been bracing for a thorough dressing-down, three months confined to his room, a beating, and a three-thousand-word written apology on sheepskin parchment, with a redo if the handwriting wasn't up to standard.
And this was it?
Killing him is killing him?
"Father," Lucian said carefully, "you're not angry?"
The Count looked at him.
"You leave for the family domain tomorrow." He said it plainly. "You'll stay there until this matter has settled completely."
Lucian went still.
The domain.
He had just been privately commending his father for being reasonable. And there it was.
Of course. Nothing came that easily.
"Father," Lucian ventured, "how long?"
The Count picked up his glass and drank.
"Depends."
So much for killing him being killing him. It still ended with packing Lucian off to wait it out.
Lucian sighed inwardly, but kept his expression cooperative.
"Yes, Father."
"One more thing—"
The Count changed direction.
Lucian's nerves pulled tight again.
"You left a loose end."
The Count's tone had returned to its usual register, as though discussing what was for dinner.
"That commoner girl."
He paused.
"Have her dealt with this afternoon."
Lucian went still.
What?
"I beg your pardon?"
"That commoner girl," the Count repeated. "She saw you. She saw Lakyus. She saw the scene. Leaving her alive is a liability."
Lucian opened his mouth and found nothing came out.
He could see his father meant it. That tone, that look: not a joke, not a test. A statement of something self-evident, a decision as ordinary as any other.
Have her dealt with.
Those words, utterly matter-of-fact, like remarking that the weather was fine.
Lucian's mind immediately produced the image of that small figure curled against the wall: dusty face, red-rimmed eyes, the single look back as Lakyus led her out of the alley.
A life Lakyus had stepped in front of a grown man to protect.
The innocent party he had given Lakyus her mission to guard.
He was not going to let Lakyus's effort come to nothing.
"Father."
Lucian raised his head, his expression carrying the look of someone who had thought it through.
"Is there any way we could avoid killing her?"
The Count's brow moved slightly. He said nothing.
"I don't mean releasing her," Lucian added quickly. "I mean taking her with us."
"Taking her with you?"
"To the domain as well." Lucian's mind was already running. "Killing her keeps the secret, certainly. But if we take her in and make her ours, the secret keeps itself. Either way she keeps quiet."
He paused and watched his father's face.
"And a commoner killed solves one problem. A commoner in our household is a tool. Keeping her alive costs almost nothing, and she's useful. Beyond that—"
He left the sentence open.
He waited.
The Count's expression was doing something, a quality in his eyes that shifted, less like anger than like reassessment.
"You're saying," the Count said slowly, "make her a sworn blade?"
"Something like that." Lucian nodded. "Lakyus saved her. She already feels a debt to Lakyus, naturally and without any effort on our part. That kind of bond is harder to break than any chain. Killing her would be wasteful."
The Count was silent for a moment.
That silence made Lucian's nerves crawl, but he held his expression.
Then the Count gave a small nod.
"Interesting."
Lucian quietly let out the breath he had been holding.
But he pressed forward before he could stop himself.
"Father—"
He trod carefully.
"Could Lakyus come with us?"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
The Count's eyes changed.
Something more dangerous than when he had said have her dealt with.
The Count said nothing. He simply looked at Lucian.
The look said everything: you dragged your sister into this and now you have the nerve to ask for that.
It pressed down like a weight.
"Aldred takes you to the domain tomorrow. Lakyus stays here."
Flat. Final.
Lucian looked down and answered with complete compliance. "Yes, Father."
Internally he was telling himself: fine, leave Lakyus here. Keep raising her your way. Just wait until the chuunibyou hits full force. That's going to be entirely your problem.
Then again, it had already started.
Probably better to leave that particular disaster for his father to manage.
Lucian got up from the floor. His knees had gone a little numb. He worked at the feeling for a moment and glanced at the Count.
"Then I'll go back to my room, Father."
The Count didn't acknowledge it.
Lucian showed himself out.
The corridor was quiet, the magic crystal lamps in their brackets casting their usual soft light, pulling his shadow out long behind him. He walked and turned the conversation over in his head as he went. His father's reaction had been considerably more relaxed than he had expected. Going to the domain wasn't bad at all, actually. There was preparation he could start on once he was there.
As for everything else, well. He had done what needed doing.
The rest of the mess could sit squarely on his father's desk.
Lucian pushed open the door to his room.
And stopped.
Lakyus was sitting on the edge of his bed, legs dangling. The moment she saw him come in, her eyes lit up, but her expression worked very hard to hold onto something serious.
"Onii-chan, you're back."