<Chapter 31>

 

"Please calm down. What’s the matter?"

"Why? Why? Why?! You’re trying to deceive the citizens under Elena's orders, you wretched fool! I won’t stand for this!"

"Lord, do you believe in the end times?"

Viretta seized the one-second window to interject with the lord.

"Forget that! Just leave! You can’t have my daughter!"

The lord ignored her, clinging to Iola with a pitiful, tearful look as he lashed out.

"Oh, no need for her."

"Who are you saying you don’t need my daughter?!"

"I already have a proper fiancée, after all."

"My daughter is a hundred times cuter and more precious than that girl! I won’t give her up!"

The lord, clearly speaking nonsense, lunged at Iola in a crazed manner, clawing at his clothes and swatting at his neck. Iola, with a serene expression, deftly threw the lord over his shoulder.

Iola, having floored the very person they needed to convince, dusted off his hands and straightened his back.

"That ‘girl’ is an exceptional woman."

As the lord lay unconscious from Iola’s powerful move, the people around erupted in cheers.

"Woo-hoo!"

"Awesome!"

"He’s the best!"

"I’m in love!"

"This is a disaster!"

Amidst the celebration over the fainted lord, Lanken’s voice rang out in despair.

He pushed through the crowd, clapping and whistling, to reach Viretta and Iola.

"What are you doing?! You can’t just knock out the lord!"

"It’s all part of the plan. No problem."

"Don’t lie! The soldiers are coming! What now?! I’m sorry! I apologize!"

The shocked guards and servants were rushing toward them in droves.

Fortunately, the angry citizens were blocking the servants’ path, but they wouldn’t hold for long.

Those responsible for this chaos wore expressions of mild regret but seemed to lack any real plan.

Viretta’s mind raced. Every second was crucial.

Her rapid thinking yielded a simple conclusion.

"Grab him and run!"

8 minutes and 20 seconds.

That’s how long it took for Viretta Medleridge’s party to kidnap the Earl of Bechdelrace, who had hidden away for three months.

 

"No, you can’t just kidnap him!"

Once they’d managed to escape a good distance with the lord, Lanken finally protested.

Pointing a trembling finger at Viretta, he was on the verge of coughing up blood.

"For someone who keeps up… hehe, I know your true feelings."

Viretta, panting lightly, gave him a shy smile, which only aggravated Lanken further.

"I only went along to keep you safe! Get a grip!"

"Yes, of course. You’re thinking of me, aren’t you?"

"Don’t leave out the part where I said get a grip!"

Lanken, feeling his blood pressure spike, collapsed onto the ground next to the unconscious lord. The lord, whom Iola and Lanken had carried out, was still out cold, mumbling for his daughter.

Moslin, who had bolted with them on impulse, couldn’t help but admire their audacity.

"Kidnapping a lord right from the start, eh? You really are the master of making life harder for yourself. I like it. What’s next? War?"

"Everything is under control, don’t worry."

Viretta, who claimed to have everything under control, broke into a cold sweat.

It wasn’t without reason. If negotiations failed, they’d be wanted as kidnappers.

Though they were now facing another major crisis, Viretta herself showed no sign of fear.

"Ah, as expected, Viretta has a plan. So, even my intervention during the speech was part of it? If this is all calculated, I’ll keep following Viretta’s lead."

"Is that guy a little… dim?"

Moslin glanced at Iola with a raised eyebrow, lowering her voice. Lanken shrugged with a troubled look.

"Let’s just say there are trust issues."

To call someone from the Royal Academy slow-witted would mean admitting they were even dumber.

It was merely a severe case of trust issues on Iola’s part.

"L-Lucy… Lucy… I won’t give up my daughter!"

While the four of them discussed their next move, the lord awoke from his nightmare.

He looked around in panic.

"W-What’s the meaning of this?! You can’t take my daughter!"

Bechdelrace, though dazed from Iola’s attack, was a young man for a count.

Judging by his age, he seemed close to Iola and Lanken’s age, likely inheriting the title after his father’s early death.

With his slightly chubby, scholarly appearance, the lord looked flustered, wiping sweat from his face with a handkerchief.

"I’ll take this to court. Tell Elena to stop messing around… Viretta?!"

"Huh?"

"Huh?"

"Huh?"

Starting with the lord, Viretta, Lanken, and Moslin each stared in surprise.

The most shocked of them all was the lord, whose eyes darted around, trembling.

"Why is Viretta here…? Could it be Medleridge…? Ah, no, Viretta has always been quite independent… and, uh, maybe she’s not here because of Elena, but has some other business with me?"

"Well, that’s sort of correct."

"So, you’re traveling with your guard, Lanken, and Moslin… and your fiancé… ah, that must mean you’ve run away from home again. In that case, the villagers asked you to help persuade me. I see. All right, I can put you up for about a week."

"……"

"……"

"……"

"……"

The group stared in silence at the lord, who had swiftly pieced together the situation.

Even Iola, showing an expression of doubt, looked at the lord as if something was terribly wrong, prompting him to wipe sweat off his brow again.

"Why? Did I get something wrong?"

"No, it’s just… surprisingly accurate…"

"Nowadays, people don’t like it when things drag on. Quick summaries are a basic skill for a lord."

Still, it was impressive that he’d even guessed they had hired Moslin and that Iola was Viretta’s fiancé in one shot.

Viretta coughed lightly, impressed by the earl’s perceptiveness, which rivaled that of a fortune teller.

"Well, I suppose that saves us the explanation. Now, are you ready to fulfill your duties as lord?"

"I’d like to, but I’ve got a court case coming up. Is the territory really what matters right now? Reclaiming my daughter is far more important."

The earl let out a sigh deep enough to reach the ground.

How many times had he mentioned his daughter? Based on his expression and everything he’d said so far, Viretta deduced the answer.

The lord had sprung out of hiding just because of Iola’s “Mother Theory.”

The mention of Elena, his refusal to give up his daughter, and his lament over needing to get her back all came together into a single conclusion.

Viretta clicked her tongue and pointed accusingly at the lord.

"You’re in the middle of a custody battle, aren’t you?"

"Yes! Elena took my daughter away!"

The Earl of Bechdelrace buried his face in his hands, clearly distressed.

 

Medleridge’s name is handy. The Earl of Bechdelrace, upon realizing his kidnappers included the Medleridge family’s second daughter, immediately forgave her.

The group was now seated in the estate’s reception room, sipping warm tea and conversing.

"A custody battle is a recently introduced law. It’s a legal dispute over who gets to raise a child. It’s becoming quite the trend among nobles and the wealthy in the capital."

"What a sad trend."

Lanken, taking a sip of tea, looked slightly melancholic.

"Indeed. Usually, it’s a matter of foisting the child onto someone else, so it’s a rather miserable affair. It’s rare to see someone crying over losing a child, like our lord here."

"How could people be so heartless? They must be mad. Just the thought of losing my daughter makes it impossible to focus. If I lose this case, I won’t be able to do anything."

The Earl of Bechdelrace was in the midst of a custody battle with his wife, Elena, over their daughter.

Two months ago, his wife had left with their daughter and filed for divorce.

Since then, the earl had been so distracted by the case that he had secluded himself in his mansion.

The only reason he’d finally left the house was because Iola’s “Mother Theory” echoed Elena’s arguments, revealing his deep love for his child.

"Well, I understand, but that doesn’t excuse neglecting the people. Leave it to me; I’ll help you out."

How she would do it didn’t matter. Whether she could do it didn’t matter either.

If it needed to be done, she would do it. That’s who Viretta was.

The Earl of Bechdelrace, overcome with emotion, grasped her hands gratefully.

"You’re taking my side, Viretta? I’m truly touched. It’s a little sad that I have to rely on you of all people, but I’m grateful for even a small bit of support."

Though his words included some rudeness, his tearful expression made it hard to respond. He truly seemed moved.

"I might have made the wrong choice. If I’d married you, none of this would have happened…"

The earl kissed Viretta’s hand with a look of deep emotion.

In Fillian’s social circles, the phrase “If I’d married you…” is usually either a compliment or a challenge.

When said among singles or in places without spouses, it’s a simple compliment meaning, “You’re wonderful.” When said in the presence of someone’s spouse, it’s a challenge inviting a duel.

So, to the Fillian natives present, the earl’s words seemed harmless. However, there was one exception: Iola Jin was a man from Saha.

He promptly poured his hot tea over the earl’s head.

"That’s an unacceptable remark."

The usually sunny Iola wore a dark smile.