A Fortune-telling Princess

I’m going to lose my mind.

What am I supposed to do with this awkward air?

Since waking up here, this was the first meal with everyone at the same table. And yet—no one opened their mouth.

It was astounding that the brief wait for food could feel this suffocating.

Sigh.

Do I have to watch that man’s mood now, too?

Camilla cut a glance at Ludville.

So long as the Duke of Sorpel gave no order, he would not kill her—but that didn’t mean she could ignore Ludville.

Whatever anyone said, within House Sorpel he was the most influential man after the duke.

Ugh, stifling.

Ludville was always a man of few words, but even Ravi was unusually quiet today.

What’s with that fox? Did something happen while I wasn’t looking?

Ravi looked genuinely displeased that Ludville had returned to the ducal house.

Uncharacteristically, he let small traces of his feelings show; he didn’t so much as send his eyes toward where Ludville sat, much less attempt conversation.

With the mood like this, honestly—

I don’t even want to eat.

If I get indigestion, it’s on you two!

Just then the dishes began to arrive one after another. A plate with a nicely seared steak was set down before Camilla as well.

Slide.

“...?”

Right as the plate was about to land, a hand snatched it away.

Camilla jerked her head up and saw Ludville take her plate and set it at his own place.

...What exactly are you doing?

Did you just steal my food?

In all her life, she had never had her bowl taken away. Even in those childhood years when she was scolded for everything, no one had taken her food.

Clack.

Still gaping, Camilla watched as another plate was set before her. It was the plate meant for Ludville.

Did my cut look bigger to you?

Ludville swapped the plates and sat to eat as if nothing had happened. Camilla’s head filled with static.

The Duke of Sorpel and Ravi saw it and showed no particular reaction.

She wondered, briefly, if this was some new kind of harassment.

“Did your presentation go well yesterday?”

A voice finally broke the silence at the table.

“I’m sorry. I should have paid closer attention.”

The Duke of Sorpel sounded sincerely apologetic that he had forgotten Ravi’s presentation.

Perhaps the feeling reached him; the sharp line of Ravi’s expression loosened a fraction.

“It’s all right. The presentation went well, thanks to you.”

“I’m glad.”

Watching the duke and Ravi speak, Camilla tipped her head the slightest bit, making sure not to show it.

What’s this now?

Across more mornings than she could count—the day after the presentation and the banquet—she had sat through this same breakfast. This was the first time she’d seen this.

Had the Duke of Sorpel ever singled out Ravi’s past presentation to apologize like this?

He had always let it pass as if nothing had happened—as if he neither cared nor remembered even a little.

What is this?

What changed?

“Camilla.”

“Yes, Father.”

After Ravi, the Duke of Sorpel turned his eyes to her.

“The term begins soon.”

“Ah.”

Right. This body was still a student.

It was spring break, and she had been resting.

“Are you truly not going to change your department?”

Right—the department.

Oh, for heaven’s sake...

She had completely forgotten. Even when she had to choose, the original Camilla had picked that field of all things.

With no skill to speak of, at that!

But she had a fairly good guess why the body’s original owner had chosen that course of study, so she couldn’t readily say she wanted to change it.

“I’ll keep at it as far as I can.”

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

“Yes.”

“Very well.”

The Duke of Sorpel asked nothing more. He only dipped his chin at her answer.

“But there is something else.”

He looked at Camilla with a deliberately serious face, as if he had another matter to raise.

“I was given chocolates.”

“...Pardon?”

Chocolates? Out of nowhere? Camilla stared, puzzled.

At her look, the Duke of Sorpel cleared his throat and continued at once.

“And the flowers seem a bit withered...”

Ah. She had meant to replace the flowers in his study and bedchamber today...

At first she had changed them every day, but throwing away fresh blossoms had soon felt wasteful, so lately she replaced them every two or three days.

Today was the day to change them, but an unexpected encounter in the garden had changed the flowers’ owner.

Camilla glanced briefly at Ludville, seated across from her, and let out a small sigh.

After that, the morning had been a blur, and going back to fetch more flowers hadn’t crossed her mind.

“I’m sorry. I was going to change them tomorrow.”

“Yes, yes. The chocolates go very well with tea.”

“Ah... yes.”

Why keep talking about chocolates when she’d said she would change the flowers? True, she always stayed to have tea with him after setting the flowers out...

Hm?

Tea?

Camilla’s gaze returned to the Duke of Sorpel.

What is it?

It felt like she was missing an important point.

But the Duke of Sorpel was eating as if nothing at all had happened. Camilla’s head tilted slightly to the side.

“...”

Ravi, watching the two of them, wore a look that said he could hardly believe what he was seeing.

****

The moment the meal ended, Ludville went straight to the Duke of Sorpel’s study. There was much to report.

On the way in, his eyes fell, naturally, on a sheet of paper lying atop the desk.

Shadow’s Chocolate: Black

Silver Moon Desserts

Twin Cake & Moon Tart

Second Moonlight Macarons

⁝

Of roughly thirty shop names, the one at the very top—a chocolate shop—had a line through it. Likely he was checking off what had already been purchased.

Scratch, scratch.

Ludville casually ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) picked up a pen and drew lines through several shops on the list.

“What are you doing.”

“She doesn’t like apples.”

What he struck out were dessert shops that used apple as a main ingredient.

“And how would you know that?”

“...”

At the duke’s slightly surprised question, Ludville pressed his lips together. Then he raised a different subject at once.

“I heard there were people who tampered with Camilla’s food.”

“Who told you.”

“I just heard.”

The Duke of Sorpel let out a small sigh.

The food she’d eaten that day, and even the ring that had been stolen from her...

Remembering what Camilla had gone through in this house left a sour weight in his chest.

“How did you deal with them.”

“They’ll find it hard to set foot in service—not only in our domain but elsewhere.”

They had been barred from ever working in a noble house again.

“...”

Ludville’s brow pinched, faintly dissatisfied that exile from the domain was the end of it.

But he, too, understood it was the best course.

These were servants who had worked not just anywhere, but in a ducal house.

If it became known that employees had stolen from the one they served and tampered with food to harm their better, House Sorpel’s name would be stained.

“More importantly—another failure this time?”

“Yes.”

With the brief answer, Ludville took something from his breast and set it on the table.

A pendant. Set at the center with a white stone.

“Haa.”

A long breath slipped from the Duke of Sorpel as he looked at the pendant.

“Another failure.”

“My apologies.”

“It isn’t your fault.”

With very careful fingers, the Duke of Sorpel picked up the pendant.

“Which means we still haven’t found the Guardian.”

There were three ducal houses in the Fableler Empire.

But people more often called them the Empire’s Three Great Guardians.

The Three Great Guardians.

Each ducal house was a line blessed by a Guardian. House Sorpel had been no different.

No—had been.

Until a few generations ago, the Duke of Sorpel had also lived under a Guardian’s protection. The Guardian always stood at the lord’s side.

But...

It was long ago. A Duke of Sorpel attending an imperial palace party was poisoned.

There was no time to act. The moment he sipped wine, he died on the spot.

The problem was that a Guardian’s life was bound to the lord’s. When the lord died, the Guardian vanished as well.

Before the end, the lord was to hear directly from the Guardian where the next Guardian would be born.

Only the lord could hear a Guardian’s voice.

The dukes of Sorpel had regarded passing that revelation to their heirs as their final duty.

But the Duke of that age, killed by poison, had not been able to pass on the place of the next Guardian’s birth. His death was too sudden.

And so one of the Three Guardian Houses—the Duke of Sorpel’s line—continued under lords without a Guardian.

That was true of the present duke as well. It had been the same for his father.

Fortunately, House Sorpel’s wealth was vast, and its renown and might as a house that had long defended the Empire were immense.

For that reason, no one dared slight House Sorpel simply because the Guardian was gone.

Even so, he could not promise they would remain on equal footing with the other two houses that still had Guardians.

Not that House Sorpel had sat idle. They had expended years of effort to find the Guardian.

The pendant set with a white stone.

That stone was the key to waking a Guardian. If a Guardian was near, the Guardian and the pendant drew one another and reacted.

So for a long time they had carried this pendant and searched. They roamed every corner of the Empire and waited for it to stir.

The present duke had done so; his father had as well. And whenever Ludville went someplace new, he took the pendant with him.

But for all the years they’d poured in, the pendant had not so much as twitched—not once.

“Hoo.”

A short sigh leaked from the Duke of Sorpel.

Was it time to give up? In the span they’d spent on this, you could have found scores of needles in a sea of sand.

Damn bastard.

But when he thought of the other two ducal houses—especially a certain one—he could not yield.

They never said it outright, but summoning their Guardian before him and wearing that pleased look—he had never found anything more galling.