2. My Nobal Cronikle of Resistence Agenst the Rood Illegle Squotter

2. My Nobal Cronikle of Resistence Agenst the Rood Illegle Squotter

—Written by LENOC ELLIM BENTEIWIND

My name is Lenoc Ellim Teiwind.

I am the firstborn alpha and eldest son of the Teiwind countship. I am well aware that my name alone has drawn many an awed gasp of "Ah……" from those who hear it. Provided they know the Teiwind name, that is.

At a time when the world's knowledge advances and philosophy and politics undergo revolutions, emphasizing a distinguished bloodline's history might seem old-fashioned. But it is equally wrong to disregard entirely the deep traditions passed down through millennia of ancestry. Especially if one is the inheritor of a great house whose very name embodies a lofty spirit. Therefore I study the wisdom of our forebears alongside the new learning of the modern age.

I savored the fragrance of the classics — so intense that merely breathing it in felt like plunging into the distilled genius of fierce scholars. I climbed the study ladder, which had surrendered itself to the hands of dozens of counts until it had taken on a deep luster. And I reached for the black book adorned with a golden seal — the one I had yearned for ever since learning of its existence. A heft that one palm could not possibly contain. A weight that required both hands to support. Such is the gravity of a classic's worth.

I descended the ladder. I placed it upon the well-kept table. Before opening the rigid cover, I dragged over a chair. Moving a chair taller than oneself was considerable hardship, but a classic warranted such effort. I climbed onto the chair, arranged a cushion, and sat.

Today I would find the answer to the greatest adversity of my life. With trembling hands I opened the rigid pages. A feast of innumerable letters. The answer was surely in here somewhere.

Ah, what torment.

Why did this classic refuse to yield its answer? The vast ocean of print spanning 2,830 pages was an utterly alien place. Before I knew it I was tearing at my hair. The instant I saw the clump of dark chestnut protein in my fist, I was furious. That man's curse had begun. Not content with ruthlessly dominating the countship without any rightful authority, he had bewitched the current count, seizing both his body and mind and shaking them at will. It was to drive that villain from this house that I toiled on, day after day.

I turned the pages with agitation. Perhaps the fiend had cast some hex upon it — I could not find a single readable letter in this entire book. Time was passing. What was I to do? It was then. Footsteps sounded from outside — thud, thud, thud.

I shut the book with lightning speed. It was necessary to disguise my plan lest it be discovered. That man had keen instincts. The slightest carelessness would see me found out and subjected to terrible punishment. I snatched a large sheet of white paper and covered the book at once. Then I seized the ludicrous rainbow-colored pencil. My preference is for a weighty intaglio fountain pen, but that has not yet been permitted me. The door opened. He entered.

"Lenoc. What are you doing in here?"

The man — intent, no doubt, on draining the lifeblood of the count's estate — deposited yet another stack of receipts and contracts upon the imposing desk. Those were vital documents that my custodial parent, Count Teiwind himself, should review and adjudicate! If the count could not do so, then it was only right that I, the legitimate heir, should handle the matter myself — and yet that man had seized the authority on the grounds that I was not yet an adult.

He placed a heavy ledger on top of the papers to block my interest, then came to my side. I had to perform as though I were a seven-year-old who knew nothing. My pride was in ruins, but this was a desperate struggle for survival.

"I'm drawing a picture, Father."

The disgrace. The humiliation. Yes — simply because I was born from the seed he provided, I was compelled, despite all these injustices, to address him as Father.

I looked up at him and smiled. A noble aristocrat must smile at all times. He feigned the air of a benevolent patriarch and spread his weapon-like hand to stroke my hair. He ran his fingers down the gleaming chestnut locks, then descended to squeeze my shoulder before withdrawing. If even a fraction more force had been applied, I would have been sent to meet my ancestors on the spot. An honorable death is always welcome, but the time was not yet ripe. I had not yet liberated the countship.

He peered down at what I was drawing with those sleekly glinting, dark-chestnut eyes of an aged predator. The family crest — the lion. An unconscious plea to borrow the strength of our forebears and drive out this wicked demon.

He studied the drawing with grave intensity. Was it working? These razor-sharp claws and flowing mane. These fierce eyes and fearsome fangs. One day, this lion would vanquish the evil that had brought such injustice and establish justice in its place. I gazed up at him with total confidence. He stared, overwhelmed, at the lion so vivid it seemed about to roar — his expression going blank — and at last opened his mouth. I anticipated what he would say. Would he tremble? Would he lash out at me? Go on, then. If you have a mouth, speak your—

"What is this? A potato with fur?"

Gkh…… Th-this wicked demon king. Surely the poison of cruel falsehood ran through his veins. How dare he compare the Golden Lion of Teiwind to a mere potato? I was in agony. My pride lay in ruins. My hands shook.

"……It's a lion. A golden lion."

"Ah, I see."

Having shattered a hero's spirit with his cruel words, he smiled. Then, belatedly offering the further lie of "You drew it well," he went to sit at the desk. It was fortunate. Though my pride had sustained grave damage, the book had gone undetected. He was deeply wary of my absorbing more knowledge, more information. An instinctive fear, no doubt, that if I grew too clever I would threaten his position.

I carefully slid the book out from under the paper. My plan was to wrap it in the lion drawing and smuggle it to my bedroom. He was absorbed in sorting ledgers and documents and no longer looked this way.

Yes, gorge yourself on the sweet fruits. But it will not last long. The moment I deciphered this book, that man would meet a miserable end. That towering body I had to crane my neck to look up at would prostrate itself on the floor: "Master Lenoc, please forgive me. Henceforth your pocket money shall be entirely at your discretion. Here are the safe keys and the checkbook." Imagining that day, I believe I let a small smile slip. That was when it happened.

"About to leave?"

Blast. I should not have made a sound. I had attracted needless attention. I resolved to answer as I normally did, without showing alarm.

"Yes, I promised to play with Yurea."

"It's nearly bedtime."

This was a disaster. I had not accounted for the time.

"I'll just play a little and then go to sleep."

"Hmm."

He appeared to deliberate. Do not notice. I smiled while feeling cold sweat trickle down my spine. Fortunately, he soon returned his gaze to the paperwork.

"All right. Don't stay up too late. Sleeping in is a poor habit."

"Yes, Father."

Phew. I exhaled a deep breath of relief — inwardly only — and climbed down from the chair. I tidied the colored pencils, folded the paper in half, and stealthily wrapped it around the book's spine. With both hands I was easing it down, ever so carefully, when—

"Lenoc."

"Yes?"

"Leave the General Principles of Civil Law behind."

How…… how did he know? He had not once taken his eyes from the documents. Did the man have eyes on the crown of his head? Stay calm, Lenoc Teiwind. You are the sole hope of this countship, the hero blessed by the lion's spirit. You can do this.

"Wh-what's that?"

"The book under your lion drawing."

"Ohh, this?"

Why should the legitimate firstborn of the countship feel like a thief for taking an item from the countship's own study? Was this the demon king's terrible sorcery? Regardless, I had to survive the crisis. I acted as though I had known nothing at all. This desperate, pride-destroying performance — and he fell for it completely.

"Yes, that. Leave it."

"Oh. Okay."

All hope shattered. I had to thrash about in the flood of crushing defeat. With the spellbook that could banish the demon right before my eyes, how could I simply retreat? The great swamp of despair rose to my knees. But this was not the end. I still had an immense amount of time remaining. Time that was not afforded to that decrepit demon king. There are moments when one must yield today for tomorrow's glory. I could not let go of every thread of hope already.

Besides, this book was not yet at a stage I could decipher. It might have been a hasty overreach. Humiliating as it was, perhaps I should have completed the punishment called Spelling Memorization that the man had assigned and acquired the Children's Dictionary first.

Tch. I uttered the grave profanity of "Dummy" under my breath. Fortunately, he did not appear to hear it. Leaving behind the golden-keyed book that sat right before me, I had no choice but to turn away. Clutching my paper and colored pencils, just before opening the door, I had to determine the cause of today's failure. I asked him one final question.

"But Father, how did you know that book was up there?"

Ugh. The cloying affectation saturating those words. This had been instilled by the witch called Yurea, that man's minion. Yet it proved tremendously effective on him — whenever I employed this manner of speech, he invariably gave a thorough answer. And so I continued my desperate existence, selling even my pride to survive. He raised his head and smiled at me. Then he pointed at the bookshelf with the end of his pen.

"There's an empty space there, isn't there?"

"How can you tell from that? With this many books?"

"Every book on that shelf is mine. I remember what's slotted where."

Ah, this cannot be. The classic was that man's personal property? What a disaster…… While I stood speechless with shock, the man smiled with satisfaction.

"I'm very pleased you're showing interest in the law. That's my son."

"Ah…… ahahaha, of course, Father."

Behind my cheerful laughter, I wept tears of blood. The reason I had wanted that book was because the butler grandfather had told me it contained all the laws of the world. He said that any grievance between private persons was judged according to the statutes held within. And so, to drive out that man, I had risked danger and used the forbidden study ladder, and yet……

"You can't read the children's literature collection yet, and that book is far too difficult for you. If you drop something that heavy you could be seriously hurt, so don't touch it again. And as punishment for using the study ladder without permission, you'll memorize double the spelling tonight."

"……Yes, sir."

Defeat. Despair. I had lost the will to live. Stupid, foolish me. Why had I not realized that man's books were in this study? I drooped my shoulders and dragged my leaden legs down the road where only suffering remained.

Double the spelling. He meant for me to memorize a full ten words and then go to sleep. He intended to torture me by denying me rest. Wicked, wicked demon king. He clearly feared my growing as great as he. Malicious. Petty. Utterly without honor. I glared at him with resentment. He looked at me and smiled yet again. Did he intend to degrade me further?

"But if you memorize them all, I'll read five extra pages of The Adventures of the Golden Lion at bedtime."

Tch. Did he think I would succumb to such a flimsy temptation? I straightened my gaze and looked him dead in the eye. He smiled as if chagrined. That's right — do not underestimate this Lenoc Teiwind. Just because you offer a few more pages of a book so entertaining its spine has gone to tatters from being read and reread, this Lenoc Teiwind will not—

"Ten pages."

"Yes, Father. I'll study the spelling really hard! I'm sorry for using the ladder without permission."

"Good boy."

Kkgh. It could not be helped. The golden lion was just about to fight the black dragon. Anyone who'd been forced to stop right before that moment would have accepted this bargain. Moreover, that man…… read with extraordinary vividness, and being a demon king, there was nothing he did not know, which meant he resolved every single question I had. Something even my custodial parent, Count Teiwind, could not do.

I closed the study door behind me. Though I had not achieved revolution today, the study expedition had yielded respectable results. I squared my shoulders, held my head high, and headed for my room. I had to memorize the spelling quickly. So that later, in my pajamas, nestled in the demon king's warm embrace, I could find out what happened to the golden lion.

It was already a year ago that I had learned the true nature of Viscount Kloff Bendyke — my father, and husband to my beloved mother.

Around this time last year — when my youngest sibling Jester, now six months old, was still growing sturdily inside Mother's belly — I witnessed the unspeakable, villainous face of the man I had until then sincerely respected as my father.

It was a night of thunder and lightning. Around the time my sister Yurea — as impervious as the great ancient trees of the vast northern forests — was snoring thunderously in her sleep, delicate me was startled awake by lightning that split the sky with blinding cracks. And I happened to need the lavatory. I did not wish to leave my bed, as it was cold, but as the firstborn alpha son of the countship I could not, at the age of six, stain my bedsheets. So I had no choice but to get up and go to the attached lavatory.

KRRR-BOOM!

I was startled mid-stream. I hurriedly washed my hands and was scurrying back to climb into bed when I heard someone stirring outside. I also saw lamplight sweep beneath the door. At first I meant to ignore it. Getting caught wandering the dark corridors alone on a stormy night would earn me a scolding from anyone.

But outside, the thunder and lightning pounded, and beside me, Yurea's snoring pounded, and sleep seemed utterly impossible. Hoping that Mother — or the man I at that time sincerely regarded as my father — might still be awake and read me a story until I fell asleep, I picked up the storybook I'd left on my table and ventured out.

Late at night, the corridor was pitch dark save for the faint guide-lights along the stairway. The quiet atmosphere suggested even Grandfather Hugo had gone to sleep. At this late hour, Mother would certainly be in the bedroom.

Having finally conceived another sibling after Yurea, Mother had been visibly more fatigued lately and retired early. Just as I had a duty to watch over Yurea at night, Father had a duty to protect our pregnant mother and our unborn sibling, so they slept together. Even if Mother was asleep, Father stayed up late, so I thought he could read to me. In my innocence, I ran to Mother's room without the faintest idea what he was doing.

As if foreshadowing the calamity of that night, the thunder and lightning crashed without cease, and the howling rain and wind made a blood-curdling sound that so terrified me that I forgot to knock and simply opened the door. A clap of thunder struck nearby just then — KRA-KOWWW — so the click of the turning handle was inaudible even to me, standing right there.

Inside the large room it was dark. Every light had been extinguished, and beyond the not-quite-closed curtains, the great glass windows rattled and banged against the storm. I clutched my storybook and took one step inside. On the far side of the considerably large room, a dim yellow light was visible.

Behind the small lamp on the bedside table, Mother — belly enormous — lay with both bare legs spread wide open, limbs pinned by the man called Father, weeping and begging for mercy.

It was the first time I had ever seen Mother cry.

My mother is Aeroc Teiwind — the renowned Count Teiwind. Officially registered as an alpha, but he fell in love as if by destiny around the time he met Father, and his body changed to omega. Always lofty and elegant, Mother is a high-ranking noble who commands universal respect, maintaining a consistently beautiful bearing and possessing such fierce pride that he never displays emotion carelessly.

And now that person lay beneath an enormous man, limbs flung open like a helpless stuffed bear, unable even to cover his round, swollen belly, weeping in utter disarray.

"Aah, mmn, Kloff, any more and, aah, I'll die, hh, I think I'll die."

"No. Hold on a little longer."

"You devil."

Though Mother pleaded through his tears, the man showed no mercy, biting Mother's neck like a beast. I began to tremble in all four limbs. Not satisfied with savaging Mother's throat like a demon from a storybook, the fiend tore open the thin nightshirt buttons and swallowed whole the breast full of milk meant for the unborn sibling. A shrill scream burst from Mother's throat, and at the same instant, I dropped my book.

That was when the man froze solid. Mother, who had been panting in such agony, went still as though cursed. The moment both of them turned to look my way, I was so frightened that — coward that I was — I fled.

Ah, I could not rescue my beloved mother. Weeping, stumbling and falling more than once, I ran back to my room, burrowed into my bed, and wept in silence. No matter how fiercely the lightning struck outside, no matter how the thunder that followed battered my eardrums, the only sound in my ears was Mother's screaming.

After a while, a faint glow appeared beyond the sheet I had pulled over myself, and someone approached. Mother? — but the hand that enveloped my trembling back was his.

"Lenoc."

Even the gentle voice made me leap in fright.

"Lenoc. Did you, by any chance, come to Mother's room a moment ago?"

For some reason, I lied.

"No! I was asleep the whole time!"

My voice cracked grotesquely from the effort of holding back tears, but the man did not press further. He stroked my back a few times, then after a pause sighed deeply and murmured to himself, "I have no idea how to explain this," before rising from the bed.

"I put the storybook you dropped on the table. Don't wander around at night. Go to sleep."

He took the lamp with him, and soon I heard the door close. I had been crying under the sheet, and only then did I crawl out and see the storybook he'd brought back placed on the far table.

I simply could not believe it. How could my respected father torment my beloved mother so — making her cry, gnawing at her skin like a demon? Mother was even pregnant! He'd promised to protect them both! He had been tormenting her all along! Horrible — horrible, horrible!

Yet I had not rescued Mother; I had fled like a coward, and for that I wept all night, blaming my own shame. My cheeks were soaked with tears, like the rain-drenched windowpanes. The roaring thunder sounded like the collapse of every belief I had held in the man I'd called Father.

When the storm subsided and morning light rose, I found I had fallen asleep at some point. Heart pounding with dread, still in my pajamas, I ran to Mother's room. I knocked and entered. Mother, just waking, greeted me with a happy expression. Looking fatigued, face slightly puffy, he smiled with reddened eyes. I nearly burst into tears but held them back.

"Lenoc — what brings you here so early?"

"I just missed you, Mother."

At the impulsive display of affection, Mother laughed and invited me into bed. As I burrowed into his warm embrace, I saw the bite marks on his neck and, through the gap where a button had come undone, a chest covered in red bruises.

I clung to him as though nothing had happened. Normally loving, and today especially gentle, Mother asked several times if there was something I wanted to say, but I shook my head to the last. I did not wish to shame him.

Late that afternoon, I pleaded a stomachache and did not go out to see off the man, who was leaving early on business. Instead I shut myself in my room and took out the notebook I had received as a birthday present not long ago.

And so this journal began.

Know your enemy and know yourself, and in a hundred battles you will never be defeated.

I cannot recall precisely where I heard this. That man probably taught it to me. Whatever the source, there was no obstacle to making use of it. Better still, if there were things to learn from one's adversary, one should learn them and become a better person. He taught me that, too.

Viscount Bendyke was a highly trusted and capable economic official. It seemed that before I was born he had been a minor employee of sorts — an asset manager or investment agent — but around that time he formed a family with Mother, who is a count, and worked hard to become a person worthy of standing beside him.

"That was what finally earned him a measure of my respect, you see. Though he does come from a noble house, receiving a new title is no ordinary feat. It is proof of considerable effort. Of course, he had letters of recommendation and endorsement from many houses — Derbyshire, Teiwind, Westport, and even Wolfrake. And I'm told the current Crown Prince himself gave his active approval. The man practically single-handedly revived the national treasury after that foolish war nearly bankrupted it, so it was only natural. I still feel he falls somewhat short as a partner for the count, but at present there are few men of his caliber in his generation. But why are you asking me all this? You'd get a much more detailed account from the count or from your father directly."

"I need objective data."

"What sort of report are you writing this time?"

"It's a secret. Anyway, thank you, Grandfather."

I thanked the butler and ran to my room with my notebook. I wrote down everything he had said as best I could remember. Hmm — I had thought the butler was cold-hearted, but in any case, learning how that man had obtained his title was a significant gain. Always scribbling and reading in the study — had he been moving the nation's money around all along? A man who did that sort of work could easily control even a great noble house as venerable as Teiwind. I must not attack recklessly. More data and more observation are needed.

Next was Martha. I had originally thought she was around the same age as Hugo, but I once called her "old lady" and there was an uproar. Only after my ears rang from the torrent of scolding — you must call me ma'am, always — was I released. As the person most favorably disposed toward Viscount Bendyke among the Teiwind household staff, and occupying the critical position of housekeeper, she was a core cadre member propping up his unjust dictatorship.

"Lord Kloff has always been a fine alpha. He can be a bit oblivious and stubborn, true, but if an alpha is too perceptive and has no backbone at all, that's unattractive in its own way."

Her modest auxiliary kitchen was thick with the savory smell of baking. Lunchtime was approaching and I was hungry, and I watched with blank eyes as Martha loaded freshly baked biscuits onto a tray. Though she was a subordinate of the villain I needed to vanquish, Martha's biscuits were so, so, so delicious that no matter how many I ate I always wanted more. I wiped the drool from the corner of my mouth and, while Martha's back was turned clearing the baking tray, reached out a hand.

Smack.

"It's not mealtime yet. These are for the tea service after lunch. Eating sweets beforehand ruins your appetite for nutritious food, and then you won't grow. Do you want to be a shrimp for the rest of your life?"

Absolutely not. I intended to grow to twice that man's size. And since my plan was to taunt him with "You barely reach my waist, you shrimp," not growing was extremely inconvenient. I shook my head vigorously and lowered my reddened hand. Martha smiled cheerfully as if the scolding had never happened.

"In exchange, today's lunch is grilled salmon. You like that, don't you?"

Martha's cooking was all delicious, but of all of it, the grilled salmon was truly the best. It was a dish Mother loved as well. I swallowed the fresh surge of drool, and Martha laughed. "Ohoho."

"Blood really does tell, doesn't it?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Grilled salmon is a traditional dish from your father's family. I acquired the recipe separately and learned it on my own. It's probably not authentic, but the way you love it so much — that must be the power of blood, right?"

I'd had no idea. That tender, orange-colored fish came from that man's lair? Passed down from that place somewhere in the north, which I'd visited once as a very small child? And I had been eating it every day without the slightest suspicion. I should have found it strange. For a mere fish, the red flesh was far too delicious. Some kind of spell had surely been cast on it. That was how Mother was bewitched during her pregnancy, and then fell under his thrall…… No. That was going too far. No matter what, salmon was just salmon. It was tasty, so I would let it pass.

Muttering to myself, I wrote in my notebook: "samon is inosent."

"What are you writing now?"

"It's not a composition! This is a report. Compositions are for babies like Yurea!"

"You're only a year apart. And look — you spelled 'salmon' wrong right there. It's salmon. Like this. Not 'samon' — 'salmon.'"

Martha pointed with her finger and told me to correct it.

"I — I know that!"

"Ohohoho, I'm sure you do. Even Yurea can spell 'salmon' correctly, you know."

Martha unfairly compared me to the cadre member yet again. I got angry, but she refused to the very end to apologize for disrespecting my intellect, instead attempting to buy my favor with fragrant almonds. I accepted the almonds, of course, but I would not give her my favor. With my vest pockets bulging with almonds, eating them one by one, I left Martha's kitchen. On my way back to my room, I encountered my other nemesis.

Yurea Elheim Bendyke-Teiwind.

Unlike me, who had dropped the middle surname, she still proudly used the lengthy Bendyke-Teiwind. Not knowing what the man she believed to be her father did to Mother, Yurea still called him "Daddy" and lavished him with coquettish charm. Whenever she did, I felt terribly put out. I, the hero who knew his true nature and meant to expose it to the world and vanquish him, had dark chestnut hair and dark eyes just like the man — while Yurea, that man's other minion, had golden hair and blue eyes like Mother. I found this deeply, bitterly unfair.

"What are you doing here, Brother?"

"None of your business."

"Doing something weird by yourself again, aren't you?"

"Weird? This is research!"

"Pfft. You can't even spell simple words right. It's not 'rood,' it's 'rude,' dummy. Nyaah!"

She even stuck out her little tongue in a petty provocation, then whisked away in a flutter of pale blue dress. Watching the long golden hair swish and vanish into the distance, I trembled with both hands.

If only she weren't an omega, I'd chase her down and give her a smack. Even being a male omega would have been enough.

I swallowed my rising fury and returned to my room. I crossed out "rood" and corrected it to "rood."

The daily life of the countship mostly ran on a regular schedule.

On weekdays, the man went to the government office for work and usually returned before dinner, though roughly twice a week he came home in the afternoon. Upon returning, he first sought out Mother and the baby to confirm they were well, then greeted me and Yurea.

"Nothing happened today?"

"No, Daddy! I missed you!"

Just moments earlier she had been playing with her dolls in passionate absorption without a word about missing anyone, yet Yurea clung to him as though she'd been miserable all day, batting her eyelashes with that nauseating sweetness.

The fool, no better than an idiot, fell for the witch's lies completely, swept her up into his arms, and kissed both her cheeks. Then he extended his free hand to me as well.

Once, I would have rushed over without hesitation to claim his trust and affection. Not anymore. The reason I did not refuse, and still went to him for an embrace, was to hide my true feelings. If I turned cold suddenly, I'd arouse suspicion. I clung to his leg, and a large hand stroked my hair, then patted my back with a light thump, thump.

"You protected the family well while I was away."

"Of course. I'm an alpha, after all."

"That's my boy."

Hmph — I don't need you. I'm already a seven-year-old alpha male, perfectly capable of protecting my mother and siblings. At lunch I had even spread marmalade on Yurea's bread myself, in place of Mother and Martha, who were busy with baby Jester. So stroke my hair more and praise me more.

"I hear you've been doing some new research?"

At that, I glared — still held in those strong arms — at Yurea, who was pulling her mouth from his ear with a grin. Loose-lipped minion. I had not the slightest intention of confessing the truth, so I put on a cheerful smile to rival the blond-haired witch's and answered.

"It's my secret research."

"You won't tell Father this time either?"

"I said it's a secret."

He seemed disappointed, but I insisted to the end. Of course I'll tell you eventually. When I do, you'll be on your knees before me, apologizing. Weeping real tears, begging forgiveness for tormenting Count Teiwind. And then I'll sentence you to punishment. What punishment, though? I haven't thought of that yet. I'll have to make a note in the journal tonight before bed.

"Ah-buh-buh."

It was Jester's turn now, and the baby reached out his short arms with a noise. My youngest sibling, still more of an eating-sleeping-defecating animal than a human being, looked exactly like the illegal dictator. Which also meant he looked rather like me.

Although I had dark chestnut hair and dark chestnut eyes, my nose, the shape of my face, and my mouth all resembled Mother's. The butler, Martha, and even the man and Mother themselves had confirmed this.

But Jester was different. Apart from his bright blue eyes, everything about Jester was a copy of Viscount Bendyke. Blue eyes aside, even as a baby, the resemblance to the man was already visible to my own eyes. Since we already had the traitor Yurea, I had wanted an adorable omega sibling who took after Mother, and though Jester was cute, I could not hide my disappointment.

Ah, how lamentable. Why did our countship's bloodline produce nothing but the scoundrel's offspring? If a child was going to be born anyway, I'd far rather have a golden-haired, blue-eyed, pretty little omega like Rapiel of the Derbyshire viscountcy as my sibling.

He set down Yurea, took Jester in his arms, and drew close to Mother, who stood smiling. With his free hand he pulled Mother in and kissed the top of his head lightly. Normally lofty in every respect, Mother became a bashful omega the moment he stood beside that man. Smiling silently, Mother leaned against the broad shoulder and whispered something. The man, wearing a soft expression, whispered back and kissed Mother's forehead again.

My throat went ticklish and I could not keep my hands and feet still. Yurea and I exchanged a glance and quickly excused ourselves. Of course, I could not go far — I had to surveil him to ensure he did not make Mother cry and torment her — so we waited in the adjacent sitting room. Only Jester, who could not yet walk on his own, remained behind. Poor Jester.

Why was it that Mother looked so fragile only when standing beside that man? Mother was still elegant and strong, to be sure. But being a refined and delicate aristocrat, compared to the man — who seemed like the incarnation of a giant moose, swinging an axe and shouldering a crude club — Mother was practically a forest sprite. Their heights didn't seem so very different, so why did they look so mismatched? Was it simply a difference in build, or in bearing?

"Ohoho. Why the count looks so small and delicate, and why the viscount looks so big and strong — you'll understand that when you grow up and fall in love yourself. An alpha wants to look powerful in front of his omega, and an omega wants to look lovable in front of his alpha. Given their circumstances, they can't normally behave as alpha and omega the way they'd like, so when they're alone together, they do their best to be conscious of each other."

After dinner, I had a bit of free time, so I was sitting in the parlor recording my latest observations in my journal. Martha appeared out of nowhere and burst out laughing. I felt strangely embarrassed and my face burned.

"Don't look! This is secret research!"

When I snapped at her, Martha — who had brought me warm milk — handed it over with a little wink.

"When you find an omega you like, tell me about it. Don't be like the viscount, agonizing all by himself because he couldn't even tell whether the other person was an alpha or an omega."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I quickly closed my journal, accepted the milk carefully with both hands, drank half, and then asked her — after she'd given Yurea milk too, on the other side of the room where she sat drawing.

"Back when the two of them were first starting to court, Lord Kloff — your father — didn't know your mother was an omega and made a complete fool of himself. The clueless idiot had fallen head over heels but couldn't figure out what to do because he thought your mother was an alpha, so he was a nervous wreck the whole time. In the end he half lost his mind and gobbled your mother right up."

I was stunned by this extraordinary testimony.

"G-gobbled? Mother? How? How?"

I pressed her urgently. This was critical intelligence. If Martha would testify, my research objective could be accomplished in a single stroke. I rushed to seize the hem of her skirt to secure my witness.

"Oh my. This is a bit early for a young master to hear. When you become a proper alpha, you'll understand naturally. Ohohoho. Drink your milk and put the cup on the tray for me."

The cunning Martha thrust an empty tray at me, and the instant I reflexively grabbed it she slipped out.

"Martha!"

"I hear Master Jester crying. His diaper needs changing."

Ignoring my calls from behind, she vanished swiftly toward Mother. Cunning old witch.

So what I had witnessed was not the first time. He had surely tormented Mother before that as well. Probably since before I was born. For seven years — a full seven years — he had committed such atrocities. A truly wicked demon king.

But now that I knew the truth, I could tolerate it no longer. This chain of evil would be broken — on this I staked the name inherited from my forebears, Lenoc Ellim Teiwind. And so, from this day forward, I resolved upon bold resistance. I would counter the petty, shameless villain's every word and begin by inflicting psychological retribution.

At bedtime, with him lying beside me on my bed reading aloud, I pressed him on every point.

"Why did the golden lion cry here?"

"He was sad because he'd lost a friend, I think."

"Why is losing a friend sad?"

"……Because you can't see them anymore, perhaps."

"Why can't you see them?"

"Well…… losing someone means being in a state where you can no longer meet. You've lost them because you cannot meet. And not being able to meet someone you want to see is a very sad thing."

The demon king's expression as he said this looked slightly darker than usual. My heart lurched — had he seen through my intentions? After a brief silence, he smiled his kindly smile and began reading the next passage. But the words didn't register; I blurted out a question.

"Do you have someone you lost and feel sad about, Father?"

He had been reading in a cheerful voice, but now he closed his mouth and looked down at me beside him. Instead of the usual impossibly arrogant expression, something faintly sorrowful showed, and I felt an involuntary pang. Was that the wrong question? Surely I haven't lost the demon king's favor because of this. Will you hate me?

"……No, I don't."

He smiled almost at once. The sadness passed quickly, but my startled heart would not settle. Scaring people like that. At least give a reason!

"Then how do you know it's sad?"

"Well. Whether I read it somewhere or heard it, I'm not sure — but I know the story of an alpha who lost someone he loved through his own fault and spent long, long days in nothing but pain and regret. I feel I can understand, a little, what that must have been like."

"How terrible. To lose someone you love through your own mistake."

"Yes. An extremely terrible thing."

His ever-confident expression grew sad again.

Before long I regretted asking. His hardened expression would not quite soften, and the voice reading aloud kept losing its strength. He paused too long at commas. When I lifted my head during one such pause and called "Father?" he smiled apologetically and closed the book.

"Let's stop here for tonight. I'll read more next time."

Normally I would have whined for more, but I decided to hold back. Even a demon king was entitled to feel sad sometimes. When one was sad, one needed someone by one's side. And for the demon king, that someone was undeniably Mother. Under normal circumstances I would never have permitted it, but tonight I would make an exception. Because then he would go to Mother and commit his wicked acts, and I would catch him in the evidence. I felt guilty for exploiting his sorrow, but the responsibility of defending the countship outweighed it by far. Forgive me, demon king. I shall be ruthless tonight.

In the next bed, Yurea had already heard her thin picture book read aloud and fallen asleep ahead of me. After tucking Yurea's blanket back in, he said "Sleep well" and took the lamp to the door.

"Oh — don't go wandering tonight. Go to sleep early. We're all going on an outing tomorrow."

"Yes, sir."

Something nagged at me and I sensed suspicious activity afoot, so I deliberately pretended to sleep and waited for time to pass. Tonight I would catch him for certain. With unshakeable conviction, I kept my eyes closed until deep into the night.

"Brother! Wake up! We promised to go on a picnic today — if you don't get up now they'll leave without you!"

The witch leapt onto my bed and I let out a death rattle — gkh — as I was jolted awake. My stomach where she'd landed hurt so badly that tears sprang to my eyes.

"HEY! Yurea Elheim! Get back here!"

Furious, I launched myself out of bed to catch the witch. Trailing her long nightgown skirt, she fled toward Mother's room shrieking, "Daddy! Mommy! Brother's being mean to me!"

Oh, right. Mother!

I needed to catch Yurea and check whether Mother, whom I had failed to guard after falling stupidly asleep, had survived the night unharmed. We burst through Mother's door almost simultaneously, and when we scrambled to the bed, the man raised his head and put a long finger to his lips. "Shh."

Mother had not yet woken, still cradled in his arms. Aside from slightly reddened eyes, there were no obvious injuries. But there was something odd. Neither of them appeared to be wearing nightclothes; bare shoulders were visible. Only the shoulders peeked out, the rest covered by the sheet, but the two sets of pajamas lying on the floor beside the bed told the story.

"I'm sorry, but could you two come back in a little while? It's still early and Mother's sleeping."

"Yes, Daddy. Sorry for barging in. Come on, Brother."

Yurea seized my frozen wrist and dragged me out. I looked back again and again; the man drew Mother close and stroked her sheet-wrapped back. He seemed to be whispering something, and the way he gazed at Mother looked softer than I had ever seen.

A picnic was always exciting. We used to go often, but since Jester's arrival we hardly went at all. There had been times when Yurea and I played at the Wolfrake estate, but this was the first time my mother and my biological father were both coming together.

"Is Suu coming too?"

"Of course he is. Silas and Atlas will all be there."

Mother told an excited Yurea, who was barely touching her breakfast. At that, Yurea and I simultaneously let out a deep sigh.

"What's wrong?"

The man, who had been blowing on mashed potato mixed with milk before feeding it to Jester on his knee, looked up and asked. Before I could open my mouth, Yurea spoke first.

"Those twins are too wild."

"They do it because they like you."

"I don't like it. I'd rather go with Rapiel's family."

At Yurea's words, Mother — who had been quietly sipping tea — changed color slightly. I jabbed Yurea's side. Only then, meeting Mother's eyes, Yurea launched into a theatrical display of cheer.

"But it's fine since Suu's coming! Suu is nice and cute. Not like our brother, so I like him! Oh, I can't wait. Right, Brother?"

The transparent performance aside, I wanted to object to the "not like our brother" part, but for Mother's sake I quickly played along with enthusiasm.

"Sure — I want to see Suu too. And the twins are just too hyper and annoying, but they're cute. Those eyes look like something's about to pop out of them. I hope we see them soon."

The two of us made a fuss while spreading jam and butter on our bread. I handed mine to Yurea first, and she cried in a very loud voice, "Thank you, Brother! You're the best!" and shoved it into her mouth.

"Do you miss Rapiel?"

When Mother asked in a gentle voice, the two of us shook our heads frantically in unison.

"No. Suu and Sy and Atti are waaay more fun. I barely even remember what Ray looks like anymore. Right?"

"Riiight. You don't remember Ray either, do you, Father?"

I quickly roped the man in. The situation was desperate. But the coward glanced at Mother — "Hm? I……" — then said, "How about we all get together next time? We didn't arrange anything in advance today, so it can't be helped."

Ugh. This clueless man. And you call yourself my mother's husband? Mother gets gloomy all day whenever Rapiel comes up! I had absolutely no idea why, but still.

The last time Mother visited them, this man had used a business trip as an excuse and didn't come home for two whole days — two whole days — and when he finally returned, Mother had greeted him with such fervor that he probably hadn't noticed, but the rest of us had been like goldfish trapped in a bowl, watching each other's faces and opening and closing our mouths soundlessly. Even Grandfather Hugo! Even Martha! And now he was suggesting they all meet again!

"How are you going to take responsibility for this?"

I glared fiercely at the culprit. Yurea, recognizing her blunder, signaled back: "I'll handle the damage control."

The man — this incarnation of a forest moose roaming the cold northern cedar woods, who had somehow earned a title despite possessing no situational awareness whatsoever (the Forest Moose, for short) — utterly failed to read the room and even seemed to tease Mother slightly.

"You've always liked Rapiel indiscriminately. The big Rapiel and the little one both."

"They're pretty and cute."

"I suspect it's not just that."

When the Forest Moose smirked, Mother narrowed his brow and shot back.

"Hmph. That's your issue, not mine."

"Don't forget — today's outing was your idea."

"You kept insisting we should all go on a picnic together. Going as just our family would have been fine."

"If it's just our family, there's no chance to have you to myself for a moment. You're inviting them for the same reason — don't pretend otherwise."

"You might just be using that as an excuse."

"If you need more convincing than last night provided, maybe we should step away later."

When the man fixed Mother with a steady gaze, Mother's face colored slightly. "What are you saying in front of the children? You degenerate," Mother muttered in quiet reproach.

What? More convincing than last night? If Mother was going so far as to call him a degenerate, something must have happened. Stupid me. Why did I fall asleep? And that vile man's nerve — scheming to torment Mother even during a picnic with everyone present — made me tremble with fury. Today I would not leave Mother's side no matter what.

I diligently ate my bread, juice, and egg. After finishing even the milk, I stared down the demon king with eyes blazing with fighting spirit. He had his clone seated on his knee and was spooning baby food into its mouth when he said:

"Lenoc, instead of staring daggers and demanding we leave immediately, you might go get ready for the picnic. Jester and Yurea haven't finished eating."

"Brother, go ask Martha to find my hat. I don't know where it is."

"Lenoc, Jester's shoes too, please."

Before I knew it I'd been conscripted into Mother's errands as well, and off I marched from the table. I was walking briskly to find Martha when the belated thought struck me that something was wrong, and I was seized by regret. Dammit. I should have stayed by Mother's side!

A fearsome demon king indeed. Disposing of me so effortlessly.

The picnic destination was a cottage not far away. We wouldn't be playing at the cottage itself — the plan was to take a picnic basket and blankets and continue on to a small wood nearby. We arrived at the cottage with Martha, who helped Mother everywhere, and before long another carriage pulled in. Yurea spotted it from the window and dashed outside at once.

"Suu!"

"Yurea."

The moment the carriage door opened, Suu leapt out. Despite being unmistakably a boy, Suu grew his black hair down to his waist and wore two red ribbons to pin the thick waves in place. On top of that, he wore a bright silver dress to the knee, lace socks, and girls' buckle shoes. He looked like a girl from any angle. He's an omega, sure, but that's a girl right there!

When we first met as very small children, I'd assumed without thinking that he was a girl. As an alpha boy, I had been busy playing ball and climbing trees, dodging our minders' eyes — especially dodging Yurea. Back then Suu, who despite being an omega had been born a few months before me and was slightly taller, had tagged along wanting to play together, and I'd found it annoying.

Playing indoors with Suu was fine, but running around the garden risked scrapes and falls, and that would be trouble. It wasn't Suu himself I worried about, strictly speaking — it was Suu's father. Getting scolded for nothing was worse than playing alone, so when I tried to run off, there he was, bare-kneed in his skirt, tailing me relentlessly.

"You don't even have a willy so stop following me!"

I believe that's what I shouted. What happened next was astonishing.

Apparently stung by the insult, Suu hoisted his skirt on the spot, pulled down his underpants, and declared "I do too" — and actually showed it to me. I was so shocked I dropped the ball I was holding. Having been the one to show it, Suu then burst into tears and ran off without even pulling his underpants back up — and Suu's father happened to see the whole thing.

I cannot go into detail, but that was the day I learned the true identity of Suu's father, Linus Wolfrake. And that the price of keeping my life was a lifetime of service as his underling. And that I could never defy Suu again.

Ah, my life is a small boat in a tempest.

Suu, who got along well with Yurea, was overjoyed to see her, and the two of them came toward me hand in hand. But when Suu greeted me, the booming voice that had just been calling Yurea's name disappeared entirely — reduced to a tiny murmur, head barely lifted.

"Oh — h-hi, Lenoc."

"Hi, Suu."

I greeted him normally. Suu was a nuisance, but I didn't actually dislike him personally.

Behind Suu, the other two appeared. One blond, one dark-haired — the bothersome little runts. Silas and Atlas. They'd still had baby faces last time, but it had been a while and they seemed to have grown. They looked like ordinary boys, and their personalities were restlessly hyperactive, but they weren't bad as such. Only — unlike Suu with his pure blue eyes, having four gleaming grey eyes swivel toward me simultaneously was slightly unsettling.

"Lenoc!"

"Big brother!"

The two of them threw themselves at me and shrieked with delight. I thought my eardrums would burst. The arms grabbing mine from both sides, too. But I endured. They were useful tools for neutralizing the witch Yurea. Besides, when I was with the twins, Suu didn't bother me. Being alphas, a few scrapes and bruises didn't make the Lord angry. Omegas should play with omegas and alphas with alphas. That was how it should be.

"Hello, Lenoc. You do have your hands full, don't you."

"Hello, Uncle Rapiel."

"You lot — don't pester him too much. Behave."

"Yes, Mama."

After cautioning the twins, he went inside. I'd once called him "mister," and Uncle Rapiel had teared up and said "Do I really look that old?" — so after much deliberation for an age-neutral title, I'd settled on "uncle." When I tried "Lady Marquess," he said that felt too distant and he didn't like it either. Why were adults so sensitive about titles? This, too, would require future research.

Then he appeared. The one who'd passed down the twins' glinting silver eyes — my other adversary and occasional ally — Marquess Linus Wolfrake.

"All limbs intact — so you haven't done anything stupid, I take it."

"Thank you for your concern, Lord Marquess Linus Wolfrake."

"I wasn't concerned."

"My thanks weren't sincere either, so please don't look so serious."

"Cheeky brat."

"I appreciate that. Oh — that one was sincere."

I stared him down without flinching. My enemies, every last one of them, happened to be tall, and looking up was a literal pain in the neck. The Lord gazed down at me with those genuinely unsettling silver eyes — qualitatively different from the twins' — then extended a hand. I accepted the handshake readily.

"No special orders today, so as long as you don't lay a hand on Suu, your life is guaranteed."

"And I would appreciate it if the Lord took responsibility for ensuring Suu doesn't pounce on me. I've no desire to be responsible for an omega at my age."

The hand gripping mine squeezed hard. It hurt, but I smiled to the end.

"What's wrong with my son? You damned brat."

"I'm not interested in him."

"He's that pretty and cute and you're not interested?"

"I like blondes. And I don't like boys who go around in skirts."

"Impudent little brat. True beauties are dark-haired. Dark hair is the best. And skirts are cuter."

"Surely you're not referring to yourself. Stop dressing your son in skirts and tying ribbons on him! Besides, the Lord married a blonde too."

While we were locked in a sparking stare-down, Uncle Rapiel came out with Mother and called us over.

"What are you doing over there, dear? Honestly, it's remarkable — those two actually get along."

"Lenoc's a bit eccentric, that's all."

Hearing this from both of them, I scrunched my face and withdrew my hand. The Lord, likewise, immediately wiped his own hand and stalked off with a frigid expression.

Once inside, the Lord shook hands cordially with that man, removed his jacket, and together they began carrying out the picnic set Martha had prepared. Martha only came as far as the cottage. She packed the food and supplies, then preferred to spend the remaining time relaxing indoors. The picnic site wasn't far from the cottage. The weather was brilliantly clear and everyone was sick of the carriage, so we decided to walk.

Jester was carried by Mother or Uncle Rapiel, and the two adult alphas each took a heavy picnic basket. I was in charge of the blankets. Suu and Yurea, being the eldest by birthday, were omegas and therefore permitted to simply stroll along unburdened. Alpha or not, I was still too young to manage two blankets, so I handed one off to the twins. It was half-dragging on the ground, but still.

"It's lovely here, no matter how many times I come."

Uncle Rapiel had just passed Jester back to Mother and was looking around at the view. This place was the site of a very old, long-ruined castle. Now thickly carpeted in fresh grass, it formed gentle rolling hills — a bit tiring on the way up, but from the highest point one could see our cottage below, and beyond it the scattered brick buildings, the woods, and the roads. The view was good. I liked coming up here too. It made me feel tall, and with the cool wind blowing, if I spread my arms and closed my eyes, it felt like flying.

"Lenoc, what are you doing over there? Bring the blanket."

"Yes, Father."

Just as I was cultivating my sensibility, the man who interfered in everything butted in yet again. But I smiled as though nothing were wrong and brought the blanket over.

The blankets were spread quickly and the picnic baskets opened. Martha's skill was formidable — there was nothing those baskets didn't contain.

"So that's why it was so heavy."

"You call this heavy?"

"……"

Well now — the demon king landed the first blow today. Whatever else one might say, the man's stamina was something to behold. He barely slept, worked all day, never fell ill — his body was relentlessly healthy, with strength left over at night for tormenting Mother. Compared to that, the Lord looked a touch scrawny. Not weak, mind you. Simply that a moose and a wolf operated in different weight classes.

Walking had taken time and I was hungry. At home the division of labor was one thing, but at a picnic everything fell to the man and the Lord. The two of them began unpacking plates, cups, food, and drinks onto the blanket.

"What's this?"

"Sandwiches. No need to unwrap them — they're better held and eaten as is."

"Where's the wine opener?"

"In there. Why don't you find the forks and knives first?"

"Don't give me orders, civil servant."

"Then make yourself useful, unemployed."

Leaving the moose and the wolf to their bickering, Mother and Uncle Rapiel took Jester for a stroll. Yurea dragged Suu, who kept trying to drift toward me, off to the other side, claiming she'd spotted a rabbit. I had been exploring the far side of the hill when the twins, who'd been following me, heard "rabbit" and bolted in that direction.

Thank you, Yurea. May you rest in peace.

"AIEEE! Don't kill the rabbit!"

"Mama, I caught a rabbit!"

Blond Silas stood up holding a ball of fur. For a rabbit to be caught by those two, the creature must have already given up on life for some reason. What sort of existence had driven it to such despair? Curious, I hurried over for a look.

Silas wanted to hold the rabbit by himself, while beside him Atlas was whining that he wanted a turn too. Behind them Yurea was angrily demanding they let it go, and Suu looked on the verge of tears, not knowing what to do. I too found the foolish rabbit that had let itself be caught by Silas somewhat fascinating, so I inspected it closely.

Throughout all this, Suu was tearfully pleading, "Let the rabbit go. Its family is waiting." But the twins, descendants of a vicious predator, showed no intention of complying. They gripped the captive tight and yanked at its ears and paws. The rabbit even let out a squeal.

"Look, a rabbit!"

Silas presented it proudly. I looked at Yurea yelling "I said let it GO!" and Suu who was now genuinely about to cry, and sighed. If Suu cried here it would become a whole ordeal. I sighed deeply and said:

"That's not a rabbit."

"Huh? It's not a rabbit?"

"It's a rat. The land here's so wide, the rats grow that big."

"EWWW! Gross!"

The blond alpha runt shoved the rabbit at his dark-haired twin, who had just been begging for a turn and now recoiled in horror. Silas panicked, then ended up thrusting it at me. Both of them — AAGH, rats, gross! — and fled. I carried the rabbit a few steps and tossed it into the grass. The startled rabbit scrambled about, then bolted.

"Was that really a rat?"

Yurea asked, ashen-faced. I was about to lie and confirm it, but I glanced at Suu and thought better of it. If he fainted, things would get truly complicated.

"I made it up. That was definitely a rabbit."

"Oh, thank goodness."

Suu wiped his brimming tears with the back of his hand and smiled. No matter that he was an omega — he was even more delicate and tearful than Yurea, who was a year younger. With nothing but his hair being black, his eyes, nose, and mouth were exact copies of Uncle Rapiel. He was, admittedly, cute — but Yurea was just as cute, so. No matter how I considered it, Suu was nothing more than a nuisance.

"Lenoc — Yurea — bring Suu and the twins over."

Mother's voice called from the distance. Already hungry, I headed over at once. Yurea walked holding Suu's hand, and within a few steps, Suu took mine. I glanced back — cheeks flushed red as the ribbons in his hair, Suu smiled shyly.

"Suu, what do you even like about my brother?"

"He's — he's cool."

"Ugh, what about that weirdo is cool?"

My sister saying that was galling, but her question aligned with my own fundamental curiosity, so I pretended not to hear. Suu, however, seemed to disagree, and said quietly, "Lenoc isn't a weirdo. He's smart and kind."

"Him? Where?"

"Me? What part?"

The simultaneous question from both siblings left Suu stammering, unable to answer.

"Being clever may be true, but I'm not kind. I do what I must because of a certain threat — er, contract. Nothing more."

"The clever part's already a lie. You spelled salmon as 'samon,' didn't you? Martha told me everything."

One and the same gang. Telling Yurea about that — unforgivable, Martha. When I get home, I'm reporting you to Hugo. And yet Suu shook his head to the end. Those truly blue eyes sparkled as they looked at me. His eyes were pretty, I'll admit. Just as blue as Yurea's — no, as blue as Mother's. Uncle Rapiel and Mother were distant relatives, so that wasn't strange.

As we neared the parents, I tried to shake free of Suu's hand, but he clung like a leech and I couldn't pry him off. The twins, who'd arrived first and claimed their spots, were no concern — but when the other four adults' gazes converged on us, I felt genuine peril.

"Oh my — Suu. Today was a success."

Uncle Rapiel laughed delightedly. Beside him, the Lord's glinting silver eyes bored into me with murderous intent, though his lip curled upward. He was clearly displeased that Suu was getting close to me, yet couldn't help being pleased that Suu had been accepted. I loathed it and wanted to push Suu's hand away, but with my greatest enemy already present, I couldn't afford to make the Lord a total enemy too. I smiled politely.

"I didn't know Lenoc got along this well with Suu."

"My Suu is pretty — of course he does."

At the Lord's words, that man smirked. Thank you for speaking my mind. In moments like this, there really is no one like my genetic provider.

"He's been very dedicated to some secret research lately. It's not romance research, is it? Writing things to Suu, perhaps? Bit early for that."

Damn demon king. I want to extract every last strand of your DNA from my body! The instant those words left his mouth, Suu's small lips parted in astonishment and he turned to me, eyes sparkling.

"As if! I'd never write to a crybaby like you! It's research on the ecology of the wild moose, if you must know."

"Oh — sorry."

My sudden outburst made Suu duck his head and go teary at once. In that instant, every pair of eyes snapped toward me. Even Mother, who had been adjusting Jester in his arms, looked at me with disapproval. The two others aside, the sight of the Lord trembling in eyes and lips suggested I'd be nailing my own coffin lid shut shortly. Damn. One moment's slip and my life was over? Before I could even save Mother?

"Lenoc, where did you learn to talk like that? Apologize to Suu."

At Mother's cold words, I looked at Suu in a fluster. Suu was already on the verge of tears. The reaction around me was utterly frigid. Yurea, for her part, declared "That was really mean," treating me like some kind of villain. Through it all, Suu had not let go of my hand.

"Lenoc has his privacy, you know. It was a misunderstanding. But I'm sure he'll write you a card for your birthday, at least. Won't you?"

Uncle Rapiel stepped in and rescued me in exchange for a card. A card was something I could manage, so I nodded quickly.

"See, Suu? Lenoc says he'll write you a card."

"……Really?"

"Yes."

"Then it's a promise."

Since I intended to keep my word regardless, I linked my pinky with the one Suu extended. Whereupon the man who was the cause of this entire debacle declared "That's my boy" with inexplicable pride. The Lord's lip twitched.

Three kinds of sandwiches, roast chicken, salad and fruit, and an enormous quantity of biscuits and pie. Martha had packed everything she could find. After eating my fill and drinking sweet-and-sour juice, I grew drowsy from the fullness.

The adults cleared the dishes perfunctorily, drank their tea, and soon paired off and dispersed. Somehow I found myself sitting guard with Jester in my arms. Yurea was being chased by the twins, shrieking across the landscape. I seriously considered trading Jester for the twins, but decided against it. I didn't much care for noise.

Suu, who had stayed by my side since the meal, sat next to me still. That gaze — as if he truly adored me — was burdensome, and I avoided it by looking elsewhere. With Jester on my lap, holding his hands, I asked out of nowhere.

"You're a boy — why do you wear skirts?"

"Hm? Don't I look pretty?"

"More like strange."

At that, Suu's face threatened to crumble again. I quickly checked whether the Lord was nearby. He was over there with Uncle Rapiel. Safely out of range.

"You said I looked pretty before."

"That was when I thought you were a girl."

Suu's expression began to contort.

"When we looked at the picture book the other day, you said you liked omegas in skirts."

"The other day? Oh — that was ages ago. And that was a girl omega. Besides, the character was a princess and you're not one."

"But…… but…… Grandfather and Grandmother and Daddy said I was cute."

Suu clutched his skirt tightly, not knowing what to do.

"Those people would call you cute if you were covered in soot."

"Do you not like me wearing skirts?"

"I don't particularly dislike it. I don't particularly like it either. It's just strange."

The face that had brightened at "I don't particularly dislike it" deflated again. Suu crumpled the hem of his skirt between his fingers and said nothing for a long time.

"If I wore trousers instead of skirts, would you like me more?"

"Like more" wasn't quite right — "find less off-putting" was closer — but there seemed no need to state it plainly. He'd cry if I did.

"Yes."

At that, Suu smiled a small smile.

Some time passed, and I was drowsy. I carefully laid the already-nodding Jester back in his baby basket, then settled beside it and lay down. Suu lay on the other side of the basket, facing me.

Why did Suu like me? Granted, I was handsome, intelligent, well-born, and an alpha of excellent manners — but at this stage of my life, I could not afford to be swayed by something as trivial as love. I was prepared to sacrifice trifles for the greater cause. Besides, though Suu was cute, the phenomenon Mother once described — the world losing its color and receding as one person alone blazes into vivid focus — had not occurred in the slightest. Regrettably, Suu was not my destined partner. He would realize it himself someday. For now I would let the matter lie. I was terribly sleepy.

"All three of them are asleep."

"Oh dear."

Mother's and the man's voices reached my ears. They had sat down not far away. I wanted to open my eyes but simply could not. Even through the haze of fading consciousness, I strained to stay alert for whatever the man might do to Mother.

"I had no idea Suu liked Lenoc."

"Rapiel says it started during last year's summer holiday together."

"If that brat would just keep his mouth shut he'd be perfectly presentable, but an omega following him around already? Bit young for that."

"Lenoc's popular. The little Rapiel at Derbyshire likes Lenoc too."

"Really? That one's barely four, isn't it? Kids are fast these days."

"He's the Teiwind heir — it's only natural. I had plenty of omegas following me from a young age too."

"But of course you did."

The man chuckled. Then came the sound of something moist pressing and pulling away. A small scoff from Mother.

"Speaking of omegas — this just came to mind. Remember that woman omega in the green dress? Red lipstick, very large chest?"

"Hm? Who dares to emphasize another omega's chest size in front of their spouse?"

"Not me — you brought her to the banquet."

"Me? I don't remember."

"Don't play dumb. You have an excellent memory. What was your relationship with that woman?"

"Don't you think it's a bit late to interrogate me about that?"

"A spouse's past is always relevant. There's no statute of limitations until we part."

"And if we do part, it wouldn't matter?"

"Of course. But since we won't part until death, stop deflecting."

The blanket shifted slightly. Mother's voice came from somewhere lower. A suppressed laugh leaked out, as though pressed under something heavy.

"Hmm, what was our relationship? I'll say it again — I was very popular. Handsome, wealthy, and an aristocrat."

"So please tell me there wasn't some situation that would require me to track that woman down."

"Always jumping to that. You're insecure about yourself, and that's why everything becomes an issue."

"Ha ha ha. Last night wasn't enough, apparently. Crying about how you'd die — and yet."

"Could you please impress me with something other than your body?"

"No. I use my brain all day — when I'm with my spouse I don't want to use it."

"Make an effort. Or you'll regret it later."

"Is that a threat?"

"If you'd like to take it that—"

Mother's words cut off. What followed was the sound of kissing. Low laughter, something rustling. Mother, who'd sounded angry a moment ago, soon murmured with an amused little scolding, "That tickles."

"Someone's coming, so stop. Tonight."

"There is no tonight. I'm an alpha traumatized by my beloved spouse's past, and because I'm angry, I'll sleep in my own room."

"Tomorrow's a holiday, though?"

"Which is why I'll spend the whole night researching those other methods of impressing you that you emphasized."

"You're really going to sleep alone?"

"Yes. I'm tired lately."

"You've never said that before."

"There's a first time for everything."

"Don't tell me……"

"Don't tell you what?"

"Nothing. You don't have to. Just come to my room. I don't want to sleep alone when I have a spouse."

"No."

"Why are you being like this all of a sudden?"

"I said I'm angry."

At the man's words, Mother's voice wavered slightly.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh look, Yurea's coming. Yurea!"

Ignoring whatever Mother was trying to say, the man said only what he wished and went off to find his minion, his voice calling Yurea's name growing distant.

"Horrible man. An absolutely horrible man. I don't even remember that woman's name anymore."

Mother's cursing voice trembled slightly. It pained me terribly to hear Mother so hurt, yet I inwardly cheered that he was finally, step by step, approaching the truth of the man's nature. Yes, Mother. That Kloff Bendyke is a very, very horrible man. Even in my half-sleep, I smiled.

I had fallen fully, deeply asleep, and when I opened my eyes, Suu — already awake — had somehow pressed right up against me and was beaming. I leapt upright in shock.

"You're awake. We should start heading back. Could you help tidy up?"

"Yes."

While Father packed the dishes into the basket, I began rolling up the blankets. Suu helped roll beside me. Feeling awkward, I looked the other way — and locked eyes with the Lord, who was packing things up on the far side.

—You slept next to him, so take responsibility. Or I'll bury you alive.

His slow, deliberate, syllable-by-syllable lip movements were unmistakably readable. Bury alive — the words sent a chill racing down my spine. I recalled the time the Lord had kidnapped me and taken me to a cabbage field at night. There, between the rows of cabbages, I'd seen the heads of men buried alive up to their necks, bulging from the soil, and nearly fainted.

"Your skull is small, so I'll plant you in the turnip patch" — the Lord's chilling whisper was vivid in my memory even now. Ah. Was this truly the end? Was my destiny to conclude in a turnip patch? AAAAAGH.

"Lenoc, let's finish folding the blanket."

"Yes, Father. Almost done."

I beamed and folded diligently.

On the walk home, Yurea fell asleep. Father carried her, Mother held Jester, so the emptied, lighter basket was carried by Uncle Rapiel. The Lord took the blankets with the other basket, and I had to hold Suu's hand and walk him to the cottage.

"Can't we stay the night?"

Suu clung to the Lord and pleaded. I stared at the Lord imploringly. If he stays the night, Suu might genuinely sneak into my bed. I don't want this to become a fait accompli. Please, Lord.

"We didn't bring overnight things, and Grandfather is visiting tomorrow. We need to go."

"Hmnn."

Suu latched onto the Lord's leg and began wheedling. The Lord's body went rigid, his expression grave.

"Daddyyy. Hmnn. Suu wants to sleep here toniiight."

The Lord, watching Suu wriggle his little shoulders in supplication, couldn't speak — and then Uncle Rapiel stepped in and lightly smacked Suu's forehead with his palm.

"What's with the coquetry? No means no. We're going home today."

When he spoke firmly, Suu's shoulders drooped and he nodded.

"Yes, Mama."

"He nearly caved."

"You're far too soft on Suu, dear."

At Uncle Rapiel's mild rebuke, the Lord said nothing.

With Jester and Yurea freshly put to bed, my parents joined me to see off the Wolfrake household. After exchanging brief goodbyes, while we stood at the entrance waiting for the carriage — Suu rushed at me. And pressed his lips firmly against mine. GASP.

"You have to come on my birthday. It's a promise."

"C-c-card."

"I'll send you an invitation. See you then."

Suu waved and dashed back to his parents. The Lord's eyes flashed dangerously, but fortunately my own parents stood behind me. At this moment and no other, the demon king's imposing frame felt reassuring.

"Take care — see you next time, Rapiel."

"Goodbye."

"Bye then."

"……"

The Lord gave a curt nod, and the demon king raised a hand in farewell.

"Big brother! Let's play again!"

"Me too!"

While the twins waved fervently, Suu leaned out the carriage window. "Bye, Lenoc," he called. I waved back without quite meaning to, and the carriage set off.

"Ah, quiet at last. I'll be in the study."

"……Fine."

The atmosphere, so warm and convivial all morning, had cooled. Mother was hurting, yet the vile demon king seemed to enjoy the suffering. A truly horrible man. But I couldn't concentrate — the soft sensation lingering on my lips had stolen my focus.

A quiet evening passed, and everyone retired early from exhaustion. In the middle of the night, I woke again needing the lavatory and groped along the walls before remembering that the cottage had its bathroom outside the rooms. Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I was on my way back when I spotted a light at the far end of the corridor. I couldn't see clearly, but the figure appeared to be Mother in a nightgown. I stood there blankly. Mother was standing in front of the man's room, knocking.

"It's me."

The door opened slightly, but the man wasn't visible from my angle. More light spilled out, and Mother, half-hidden by the door, said something. I don't remember exactly, but the gist was: was he pleased with himself for making the countess come to the alpha's room like a kept woman?

A low laugh — oozing cunning and wickedness — and then a long arm emerged and wrapped around Mother's waist. A token resistance proved futile; Mother was drawn in without a fight. I was sleepy and didn't know what a "kept woman" was, so after Mother disappeared into the man's room, I returned to my own.

"Oh, right. I was supposed to keep watch so he couldn't torment—"

Sleep cannot be defeated. In my dreams, a weeping Mother, the demon king crushing and tormenting her, Suu pressing his lips forward, and a rabbit all swirled together in utter chaos.

*

Protecting someone without their knowledge was no easy task. Especially someone with pride as delicate as Mother's — the very fact of being protected might itself become a problem. So I sometimes kept watch at the man's side instead. As I did now.

"Jester's scrunching up his face."

"He must have had an accident."

The man, who had been reviewing documents, rose from his chair. His gaze lingered on the paperwork until the last moment before he quickly came over and lifted Jester from the baby bed. He placed him on the small changing table nearby and changed the diaper with practiced ease. I wrinkled my face at the intrinsically human smell and retreated several steps, but the man didn't bat an eye.

Mother was not home today. He had gone to a regular recital of the Royal Music Patronage Society as a member. He would probably return late. In Mother's absence, the demon king remained at home the entire day.

Since Jester's birth, the man frequently stayed home so that Mother — who otherwise spent all his time indoors — wouldn't feel stifled. He claimed to be teaching me and Yurea as well, but for me it was nothing but a nuisance. Were it not for surveillance purposes, I'd have no reason to be near him. I needed to observe him as closely as possible and find his weaknesses, so I remained at his side under the pretext of studying spelling.

Jester, usually at Mother's side, seemed content with the man's touch and beamed. The man who looked exactly like Jester grinned foolishly in return. Soon Martha appeared and handed over a bottle.

"I have urgent business right now."

"I've told you before — don't rely on me. I think I'll take a rest today, for once."

With that, Martha left, and the man let out a brief sigh before picking Jester up and beginning to feed him. My generally quiet sibling lay in the lap of the adult male who was his exact copy, gazing up at him and waving his tiny hands. The demon king, looking every bit the doting father, caught those hands and shook them playfully.

No matter how I considered it, Jester was on the demon king's side. This could not be left unaddressed. I already had the rival Yurea to contend with — if Jester defected too, I'd be badly outnumbered. I abandoned the drawing I'd been working on and stood.

"Father, I'd like to feed Jester."

"Would you? Go ahead and try."

He brightened at the offer, sat me on the floor, and settled Jester on my lap. Jester, lying across my folded legs, scrunched up slightly — the position was uncomfortable — but once I supported his head he latched onto the bottle with vigor again. His eyes, however, kept rolling toward the man. That man, seated at his desk, watched us with a pleased expression before turning back to his documents.

Soon the baby rolled those blue eyes toward me. Then toward Yurea, who was drawing on the other side of the room. A curious little creature. When Jester stopped taking the bottle, seemingly full, I called the man over. He sat Jester upright and patted his back. A burp of decidedly un-babyish volume followed. Yurea giggled from across the room.

"What are you drawing, Yurea?"

"Guess!"

At the man's question, Yurea held up the picture she'd been working on. Three brown circles, two yellow circles, and several crooked black sticks. I identified it as a species of ghost clown mushroom. I'd seen one in a reference book.

The man whose artistic judgment had dubbed my masterwork golden lion a "potato with fur" — I was eager to hear what verdict he'd deliver on this. Surely no worse than a "rain-battered caterpillar." I kept my mouth firmly shut and waited.

"This one's me, this is Mama, and Jester, Lenoc, and you."

"Wow, that's right!"

Gkh. Where on earth did he see that?! And why could he identify it in one try?!

Feeling unreasonably aggrieved, I seized my sketchbook and a pencil. I could draw a family portrait perfectly well. Pouring my heart and soul into it, moving the pencil with the swiftness and depth of a master, I rushed over to show him.

"Lenoc likes plants, does he?"

"No! This one's Father, this is Mother. And these are my siblings."

"Ah, is that so? I thought they were a tree and some wilted flowers…… I'm sorry. I failed to recognize them."

Ah, that wicked demon king. He was doing it on purpose — it had to be. Mother had identified them at once.

Yurea came closer, looked at my drawing, and chattered delightedly.

"Mama told me once — she said I have a talent for drawing. But she said Brother doesn't."

Already dejected, I felt as though the sky had fallen. That couldn't be true. Mother always studied my drawings at length.

"Liar."

"It's true. Ask Mama later when she comes home."

Yurea displayed an evil grin. I surveyed my surroundings in despair. That was when the demon king came over and patted my shoulder.

"You take after me in that regard."

So this, too, was the demon king's fault? Because of his curse flowing through my body, I had no talent for art? What did I even have? If I couldn't draw a single proper picture, I was worthless as a cultivated person. I would forever be an aristocrat who drew nothing but potatoes with fur.

"But you're excellent at language and arithmetic. That's a talent too."

"R-really……?"

"Of course. Your math ability, especially — even your mother doesn't have that. So don't be discouraged about the drawing."

I wanted to scream that I didn't need to hear that from him, but I couldn't help feeling consoled.

Dispirited, I decided to stop drawing. Instead I worked on my journal while pretending to read a storybook. Lying on my stomach with my feet swinging in the air, I diligently recorded the man's activities. The floor rug was down, but lying about on the ground was a special privilege permitted only when the man was present. Mother disliked lying on the floor.

After much playing and an afternoon snack, drowsiness crept in. Jester was already deep asleep in his nearby crib, and Yurea had at some point toppled face-down and gone still. I heard the continuous whisper of turning pages, and before I could hold my pencil any longer, sleep took me.

In my half-sleep I felt myself floating. There was a smell of books and ink. In my dream I was vanquishing a drawing-monster with numbers, so I failed to trace where that familiar scent came from.

When I opened my eyes in the late evening, I was lying in my own bed. My clothes had even been changed into pajamas. Rubbing my eyes and sitting up, I saw Yurea was gone. I visited the bathroom and emerged yawning. The corridor was bright, so it couldn't be too late.

"Oh, you're up."

I went to the study where the family often gathered, and Mother was sitting on the sofa. Normally I would have offered a proper greeting, but I was too sleepy for that. I walked over and nestled into Mother's arms. He smelled wonderful.

"Mama. I love you. I missed you."

Mother's laughter followed.

"You've turned into a baby all of a sudden. I love you too, Lenoc. I missed you as well."

Mother held me close and patted me, then asked, "Are you hungry?" Come to think of it, I was. I nodded, and Mother stood. He took my hand and led me out of the study. I padded along barefoot, still rubbing my eyes. Soon I came to my senses.

We had arrived at Martha's small kitchen. This was also the space the man used when he cooked for Mother. At the little table attached to the kitchen, Yurea was already seated. Across from her, Jester dozed in his baby basket.

"Lenoc."

The man was cooking in an apron. When Jester was still inside Mother, he used to make something every morning and give it to Mother. Occasionally he made some for me and Yurea too, and honestly, it tasted decent.

I sat at the table. Mother brought out plates and cups. While Mother poured milk from the bottle into my cup and Yurea's, the man placed an egg dish on our plates. The steaming yellow mound looked very appetizing.

"Mama. Spoon please."

"Here. Lenoc, yours too."

"Thank you."

Mother's plate and the man's plate both received the egg dish along with sautéed vegetables. I didn't much care for vegetables, but eating unevenly earned a scolding, so I resigned myself to tackling the carrots and green beans first.

"Smells promising."

"It'll taste fine too."

Mother picked up knife and fork.

I didn't know whether other families did this, but Mother and the man occasionally enjoyed this sort of modest, common-folk atmosphere. The alpha cooks; the omega sets the table.

I had seen it sometimes in storybooks, but I already knew from the Lord that it was unusual in noble households. Perhaps Mother was condescending to match the rustic man's level. Regrettably, Mother very much enjoyed the man's unrefined cooking, so I didn't interfere. Besides, this was the only table where I could sit in pajamas with an unwashed face.

Mother cut a corner of the egg dish, put it in his mouth, and chewed. The demon king waited for the reaction. Having already wolfed down several bites, I considered the egg dish tasty. Yurea, eating in focused silence, would probably agree. I expected Mother to say the same.

"Ugh!"

Suddenly Mother grimaced and covered his mouth with a napkin. He stood abruptly and rushed out. Yurea and I were startled; the demon king was more so, and chased after him. The instant I was about to climb down from my chair, he looked back and spoke quickly.

"Watch your siblings."

Worried, Yurea and I froze. Yurea, who had been happily spooning egg into her mouth, quietly set her spoon down. I did the same.

The suddenly quiet manor became hectic. Martha appeared and went into the room where Mother was. The man told Grandfather Hugo that a doctor was needed. Hearing that, Yurea seized my hand. Normally she would never have done so, but she seemed frightened, and I didn't shake her off. Honestly, I wanted to do the same.

"Father."

"Lenoc. Yurea. Where's Jester? Oh no."

He rushed back to the kitchen and came out carrying Jester. The baby, whose bottle had been snatched mid-feed, scrunched his face and was about to cry.

"It's all right. It's all right. Just a moment. Lenoc, take Yurea and go back to your room."

"What about Mother?"

"It's nothing serious."

He was sending for a doctor and claiming it was nothing serious — he should at least say something believable. And the demon king's own expression was grave as he said it. Had the egg dish been poisoned? I tried to press him, but Yurea stopped me.

"Brother. Let's go to our room."

Yurea looked ready to cry, and concern for her won out. I nodded. He carried us to our room with Jester, then placed even Jester into my arms.

"Wait here a moment. Here's the bottle. You know how to feed him?"

"Yes."

"I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere — just wait here."

The gravity of his tone and expression frightened me. Surely nothing was truly wrong? Yurea climbed onto my bed, and I couldn't bring myself to send her back to hers.

I held Jester on my lap and fed him the bottle, gripped by anxiety. Yurea was the same — she said nothing, only held the baby's hand.

The memory surfaced of the day our youngest was born — the terrible screams Mother had let out.

Before long, more commotion sounded from outside. I wanted to dash out at once, but the younger ones kept me rooted. At the very least, as the eldest and firstborn alpha, I had a duty to protect my siblings.

Jester finished his milk and coughed. I scooped him up in alarm and patted his back. Mother had said before — if I didn't do this, he'd spit up. Jester hiccupped and — bluurgh — vomited.

"EWWW! Brother!"

My sister screamed, and something warm ran down my shoulder in a trickle. Blast. Too late. Jester hiccupped again and brought up another mouthful. Yurea shrieked, "IS JESTER DYING TOO?!"

"He's not dying. He just threw up. Calm down and go to the bathroom — bring a towel."

"Mama. Daddy. Martha. Hugo."

Shaking her head, Yurea looked about to bolt from the room. Any other time I would have told her to go fetch someone, but right now that was inadvisable.

"YUREA! Calm down!"

My shout made her flinch.

"Go wet a towel and bring it here."

"O-okay."

The teary Yurea ran and did as I asked. Meanwhile I laid the emptied-out Jester on a clean patch of floor. His face was dirty only around the mouth — otherwise clean. The problem was my clothes and my bed sheet.

"Brother, here."

I wiped Jester down with the wet towel Yurea handed me. I carried him to Yurea's bed instead. Then I changed out of my soiled pajamas, found a fresh pair in the drawer, stripped the dirty sheet from my bed, and bunched it at the foot.

"Is he okay?"

"He's fine. Babies spit up a lot, they said. He's breathing all right?"

Yurea peered closely at Jester, then nodded.

"No problem. Let's all sleep in your bed tonight."

"What about Mama?"

"She'll be better in the morning."

I wasn't sleepy, but I lay down deliberately. With Jester between us, I pulled the covers over all three. After a moment, Yurea spoke.

"Can I hold your hand?"

"Okay."

Jester fell asleep first, and I held Yurea's hand until she followed. But sleep would not come to me all night. I was terribly worried about Mother.

At long last, someone opened the door. I lifted my head sharply and saw it was him. Tears stung behind my eyes and I called out "Daddy" — and he came to my side.

"Was everything all right?"

"Jester threw up. I didn't burp him in time. He seemed fine after I cleaned him up, so I just put him to sleep."

"Really? Good job."

A large hand stroked my hair.

"How's Mama?"

"She's fine. I told you it was nothing serious."

The demon king's expression was considerably calmer than before. Perhaps it truly was nothing. He lifted Jester from the bed, then stayed beside me until I fell asleep. In one hand I held Yurea's; with the other I gripped his hand tight. No hatred stirred. I simply felt safe. I wished, like a baby, for him to stay. Unfortunately, I was still far too young, and I still needed the demon king.

Early the next morning, Yurea and I opened our eyes at the same instant and, without a word between us, sprinted for Mother's room. Mother had apparently just woken — still in a nightgown. He and the man seemed to have been in the middle of a serious conversation; Mother's expression was stiff. He relaxed it quickly when he noticed us, though not quickly enough.

"Lenoc. Yurea."

"Mama!"

Yurea got there first, scrambling up onto the bed and clinging to Mother's neck desperately. "Are you not hurting anymore?" she asked. I was just as curious, so I clambered up too. With one of us on each side, Mother's arms wrapped around us both, and he smiled softly.

"I just need to rest for a few days. It was only a little stomachache. A bit disappointing, though."

"There's nothing disappointing about it, Mama. You can't be sick."

Yurea said what I'd been about to say, so I simply clung to Mother's embrace. But strangely, Mother really did seem a little disappointed, a trace of let-down in his expression. The demon king, by contrast, holding the baby, looked at peace.

"You still haven't given up?"

"I'll have it all someday."

At Mother's firm reply, the demon king let out a deep sigh. Muttering about why on earth Mother was so fixated on six, he told me and Yurea to go wash our faces. I didn't want to leave, but I didn't want to bother Mother when he looked so tired, so we both obeyed quietly.

Glancing back as I left the room, I saw Mother had risen from bed and was embracing the demon king from behind.

"You're really not at all disappointed?"

"As I've said before — I can't live without you. And we need to think of the children we already have. Let go of the greed. There's no need to take needless risks."

"……Okay."

Mother, face buried against the demon king's back, nodded. The man sighed, turned, and drew Mother into his arms. Their lips met.

"I was happy at first too. But it's not as though a child that existed has been lost, so please don't be too sad."

"I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier."

"It's all right."

Mother sank deep into the wide embrace. The demon king whispered something endless and inaudible, then laid Mother back in bed. He smoothed the lying figure's hair the same way he did for me, kissed the forehead, and rose.

"Me too."

I didn't know what it meant. But the man smiled gently at Mother's words.

*

Mother's birthday week was approaching. I say "week," not "day," for a simple reason. The birthday party lasted an entire week.

Every servant in the house was busy. They gave the manor a thorough cleaning, inside and out, and replaced all the curtains and tablecloths for the party. Martha and the maids scrambled to prepare bedrooms for guests; Hugo and the footmen brought out every piece of silver and polished it with compound. There was also the garden to tend and the staggering quantity of ingredients to procure — countless busy tasks. Naturally, Yurea and I were no exception.

"You've really grown. You'll need new clothes."

Last year's suit was already too small. Yurea's dress wouldn't button up the back. Mother had Martha send for the tailor.

"Rather than having him come here, wouldn't it be better to go out?"

"True. Buying them in secret would be wiser."

"He'll find out eventually, but I think it's better to delay as long as possible."

At Martha's words, Mother nodded. Then, turning to us: "Shall we go out a bit later?"

"Yes!"

"Wow! How exciting!"

We bounced on the spot with glee. Going out without the demon king was a rare occasion. When he was there, we only ever looked at what was necessary, ate what was necessary, and came home. Without him, it was an entirely different story. Anything we wanted to have, eat, see, or hear — all of it was possible.

"I'll leave Jester to you."

"Don't worry. The young master will be perfectly fine."

Martha said this while watching Jester play happily in his baby bed.

Yurea and I both dashed to our room without a word and started pulling out our outdoor clothes.

We rode out in high spirits. Our stomachs were slightly empty, being nearly mealtime, but we needed to be quick since there was no telling when the demon king might return. Of course, ice cream and chocolate cake were on the agenda too.

This was apparently our third visit to the upscale tailor's shop, though I barely remembered the first. The moment we entered, an attendant hurried to greet us. Then the tailor himself appeared — an older man, much like Hugo. He had a kind face and welcomed us warmly. He and Mother began conversing while Yurea and I browsed the brilliant fabrics and garments on display.

"Does this fabric please you, sir?"

The tailor had appeared beside Yurea, who was just touching a sparkling pink cloth. When she nodded, he smiled and called an attendant over with instructions.

"And does nothing appeal to the young master?"

"I'm not sure. My f— my father says alphas shouldn't just wear anything."

"Is that so? Then shall we select from fabrics your father prefers?"

I realized my mistake too late. Officially, I was the firstborn of Count Teiwind, an alpha. The tailor would suggest fabrics that suited Mother. Mother was the most stylish person I knew, but what suited a blond with blue eyes would differ from what suited someone with dark chestnut hair. Still, I said nothing and watched what the tailor brought out.

He soon returned with several bolts of fabric, most in deep navy or other dark hues. Nothing that Mother — who preferred bright colors when not in a black suit — would have chosen. When I looked at the tailor quizzically, he added kindly:

"These are the colors Viscount Bendyke prefers. I believe they would suit you very well, young master."

How did he know the man was my biological father? Startled, I asked, "How do you know about that?" The tailor didn't understand at first, then smiled and said:

"He's a longtime patron. Your father has used our shop ever since he first graduated from university. Since you children came along, the count has been a patron as well."

Hugo had mentioned that the house of Teiwind had dealt with a particular tailor for generations. My only memory was this shop, and the tailor who came to the estate was always the same man, so I'd assumed he was the one Hugo meant. Why the change? And to the man's shop, of all places.

"I understand the count once visited the old establishment dressed shabbily and was treated poorly. I can't say why the count would have been shabbily dressed, so I'm uncertain of the details."

Mother — so refined even now that other omegas followed his lead — dressed shabbily and was snubbed by his own tailor? It made no sense. I'd need to investigate further.

"How dare anyone treat Count Teiwind disrespectfully. I won't stand for it."

"Ha ha — you're exactly like your father, young master."

"In what way?"

"You say the same thing he did. That shop closed down long ago. Ask your father about the details."

The demon king again. Just because he was a bit older and a bit taller, he went and did everything first! I scowled as the tailor handed the selected fabrics to an attendant with detailed instructions.

Mother, who had been giving directions to another attendant, called us over. He specified fabrics and ordered two suits for me and two dresses for Yurea.

"Did you find a color you liked?"

"This one."

"And I want this."

Mother immediately approved our choices. We were delighted to be getting three new outfits each. Truly befitting the countship's greatest holiday: birthday week.

Leaving the pleased tailor behind, we went straight to the shoe shop. Two pairs each were ordered, then on to the hat shop. I couldn't wear a top hat until I came of age. At the earliest, perhaps university — but for now it was a tantalizing impossibility. I'd look so much taller in one of those.

Yurea instead ordered two broad-brimmed hats to match her new dresses, and Mother deliberated over a hat slightly too large for himself before ordering one.

"I'd like everything delivered to the estate by early next week."

"Of course, my lord."

Having ordered everything in a single efficient sweep, Mother led us out. The carriage, which had been following at a leisurely pace, took us from the quiet luxury street to the district lined with delicious pastry shops. The moment we arrived, we agonized over which shop to enter. Mother laughed and said we could visit as many as we liked.

"That one sells ice cream and biscuits. Let's go there, Brother!"

"Where? Oh — found it!"

We ran, checking that Mother was following. The shop owner was a middle-aged woman omega. Slightly younger than Martha, she smelled divinely of sweets.

"Welcome. What can I get you?"

"Chocolate ice cream! And strawberry too!"

"Me too! And hot chocolate please!"

We said this the instant we sat at an empty table. Mother, taking a seat behind us, ordered black tea with a smile.

"If you eat that much sugar, your teeth will rot."

"But you'll let us today, won't you?"

"In exchange, you're not to brag to Kloff about the new clothes. Understood?"

"Yes!"

We exchanged conspiratorial glances and giggled as though plotting a crime. While we ate our sweet ice cream and hot chocolate, Mother ordered a couple more cakes, and we luxuriated fully in the rare fortune of filling our stomachs with treats instead of a proper meal.

After eating to our hearts' content, time remained. Mother deliberated briefly, then murmured to himself, "It's not too late — perhaps the art museum would be all right." Yurea and I, neither wanting to go home yet, united in nodding.

"I wonder if Jester isn't crying."

"He's probably eating and sleeping just fine."

"That's right, Mother. Jester's a good baby."

"Then shall we?"

Bolstered by the accomplices' enthusiastic endorsement, Mother set aside her last worry and took us to the Royal Art Museum near the palace. Unlike the dash to the pastry shop, the most excited person in the carriage this time was Mother.

"There's an exhibition by a famous painter right now. Do you remember the landscape painting hanging in the study?"

"I know the one! It sparkles, and it's Father's favorite painting, right?"

"That's the one. The artist is going to be there. I hope we can meet him today."

Mother was so delighted he was even humming. For us, the sheer thrill of a secret outing was excitement enough.

At the museum entrance, Mother gave us stern instructions. Children didn't often come here, so we were to remain inconspicuous — quiet, no shouting, no running, behave impeccably. Yurea, whose command of artifice and demureness was second to none, knew exactly what to do, and I too understood perfectly well what proper conduct meant when the countship's reputation was at stake. We held our heads high, squared our shoulders, and walked with light steps.

The museum attendant greeted Mother with a deep bow and offered a nod to us as we followed. Yurea and I returned the nod politely and entered the museum behind Mother.

Inside, there were quite a number of visitors. A famous artist indeed — truly popular. Most of the paintings were landscapes. My lack of artistic talent had been confirmed through multiple channels by now, but failing to even appreciate art would be truly pathetic, so I followed Mother and studied the paintings.

Unlike Mother, who was an adult, Yurea and I had to stand several paces back to take in the high-hung paintings at a glance. Reluctant as I was, in such situations I was Yurea's guardian, so I held her hand. Rigorously trained as she was, Yurea took it naturally. Mother stood entranced before one particular painting for a long time. The Royal Museum was not open to just anyone, and attendants were stationed throughout, so there was no danger of getting lost. We drifted off to look at other paintings.

Beyond landscapes, there were portraits, still lifes, and bizarre works as well. Yurea and I made our way around the enormous museum, bickering quietly about which paintings we liked and which we found strange, and when we returned, Mother was still standing before that same painting. And beside him stood an alpha we'd never seen.

At first I assumed he was an acquaintance. The countship received many visitors, and I couldn't remember them all. Since Mother was in conversation, we kept our distance and resumed looking at nearby paintings, squabbling about whether I could or couldn't paint something like that.

"Brother absolutely couldn't."

"Neither could you, mushroom-spore producer."

"Did you just insult me? I'm telling Mama."

"That's not an insult. You single-celled organism."

"That one's definitely an insult. I just remembered — Daddy told you not to call me that."

Blast. That one was off-limits. I lunged to grab Yurea, who was wrenching free to run to Mother.

"Mmph!"

I clamped my hand over the mouth that was about to shout. "Shh — this is an art museum," I reminded her. Fortunately, Mother wasn't looking our way. But then—

"Mmf!"

Yurea pointed. I saw it too.

Mother was chatting happily with the alpha beside him — and that alpha had casually rested a hand on Mother's shoulder. Whether Mother noticed or not, he stepped back to view the painting, and the hand fell away — but the alpha immediately closed the gap and placed his hand lightly on Mother's back. That's our mother! Where do you think you're putting your hand?!

Yurea and I lit our eyes with fury and rushed over.

"F-Father! Isn't it getting late?"

"M-Mama will be waiting at home. The baby too."

While Yurea seized Mother's hand and steered him toward the door, I wedged myself between Mother and the man.

"What has gotten into you two? This is very rude."

Mother's scolding stung, but I held my ground. I fixed the alpha with a deeply hostile glare. An ugly specimen — bookish-looking, scrawny — entirely unimpressive. If the demon king showed up, the man wouldn't last a single punch. What gave him the nerve to make advances on Count Teiwind?

"My apologies, Mr. Bühlt. These are my children."

"Ah — I'd heard the count had three children. Hello there. My name is Bühlt."

"Bühlt?"

"Lenoc! Manners!"

Mother rebuked me, so I apologized quickly. Now I understood why Mother had looked so happy. Bühlt was the very painter whose exhibition was on display. This was serious. When it came to art, Mother's boundless affection meant that simply being a beloved artist was enough to make him lower every defense. Those outrageously presumptuous hands had brushed Mother's shoulder and touched his arm, and Mother hadn't stopped them. I was desperate. Should I sit on the floor and cry? I exchanged a rapid glance with Yurea.

"I'm sleepy. I want to go home."

Yurea, master of selective affectation, stepped forward.

"All of a sudden?"

"Mm. I want to sleep. I'm tired."

Yurea rubbed her eyes, crouched on the spot, and buried her face in her knees. Well done, my sister! That's how it's done.

"Oh dear."

Mother smiled ruefully, offered Bühlt a light bow, and lifted the crouching Yurea into his arms. I envied her being carried, being Yurea's size — but only Yurea could get away with it, so I bore it. I seized the hem of Mother's jacket and hurried after him. Looking back, the man called Bühlt watched us wistfully. Nyaah.

We arrived at the estate and had just changed into house clothes when the man came home. I rushed out at once.

"Father!"

"Oh — Lenoc. What's this? You never greet me this warmly."

"Why are you so late?"

"Hm? I think I'm a bit early, actually."

The demon king said this while handing his hat to the butler. I tried to tell him what had happened, but Mother appeared and greeted him, cutting off my chance. When asked if anything had happened, Mother said nothing had. Gasp — Mother, lying? Something had happened. Something that would send the demon king into a frenzy if he knew. Mother gave the returned husband a light kiss, then shot me a sidelong look. Unbelievable. A warning glance, too. This was no simple matter. Mother was deliberately hiding it.

Why? Why? Because the demon king tormented him so much that he'd grown tired of him?

Staggered by shock, I stood there blankly while Yurea appeared and flung herself — obliviously cheerful — into the arms of the clueless demon king. Mother, saying nothing, led me to the dining room for dinner. My favorite dishes were piled high that evening, and I could not tell whether they were entering through my mouth or my nose.

*

A crisis in the household. How had it come to this?

Monitoring the man was burden enough, but now Mother, too, was acting inexplicably. The moment the demon king left for work, Mother would put Jester down for a nap at the earliest opportunity, concoct some excuse, and venture out alone. Hugo and Martha, knowing nothing of what had happened during the last outing, simply assumed Mother felt cooped up or bored. But I was different.

Remembering that man's clinging gaze and outrageously presumptuous hands, I could not sit peacefully in my room watching Jester strain on the chamber pot. I dashed out at once.

"Mother! Jester's diaper needs changing!"

"I can hear you without the shouting."

Mother came from the next room, where he'd been looking at Yurea's drawings. He changed the diaper expertly, held Jester to his chest and patted him, then gave him the bottle. Having relieved himself and eaten, my sibling would fall asleep shortly. And then Mother's outing would begin. I had to act first.

"Could you help with my studies this afternoon?"

"I'm sorry, darling. I have an engagement to go to."

What engagement. I clung to him desperately. I deployed the Kloff Bendyke school of educational philosophy at length — detailing what kind of lifelong failure I would become if I didn't finish today's studies — until Mother's expression darkened and he placed both hands on my shoulders.

"Not finishing twenty spelling words will not land you on the streets. Never, never! Don't you ever say that again."

It was the first time Mother had ever spoken to me with such severity, and I was so startled that tears stung behind my eyes. I was quickly drawn into a warm embrace, but my racing heart would not calm.

"You don't need to worry about your studies like that. You will one day be count, and even without a university degree, no one will dare look down on you. So don't fret, my beloved son."

"Yes, Mother."

My reply came out tearful without my meaning it to, and Mother kissed my forehead and smiled.

"Shall we get revenge on the bad viscount who tormented you with homework and go out together today?"

"Yes!"

This was not my intended aim, but I had secured what I wanted most, so the result was satisfactory. Yurea, who was nodding off but still trying to tag along, was placated with the promise of a chocolate cake and strawberry roll as souvenirs.

Contrary to my expectations, Mother first went to the tailor's shop where we'd placed orders for a fitting. I ended up getting fitted as well. Since Yurea, who was growing like a pig, needed extra room in hers, her fitting was skipped and the garment would be finished as-is. We also stopped at the shoe shop, and picked up the now-completed hats. The shopkeeper showed us the pink hat with its pretty flower trim and packaged it in a matching pink box.

"Yurea will love this."

At the pastry shop we bought the chocolate cake and strawberry roll, plus some biscuits that weren't very sweet. Only the demon king liked those. Normally I would have worked to sabotage them somehow, but today I decided to let it pass. Then, just when I thought we'd head home, the carriage turned toward the art museum once again.

"No rudeness like last time."

After giving me stern instructions, Mother took my hand and went in. The museum was quiet — it was a bit early — and sure enough, the man called Bühlt was there.

"You came."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Bühlt."

Mother smiled — a radiant smile he had never shown anyone outside the family — and took the man's hand. I wanted to swat it away immediately, but Mother was gripping my hand too tightly for me to reach. I seethed and glared at the man, discreetly enough that Mother wouldn't notice. Whatever reason an alpha had for pursuing a count publicly registered as alpha, and even if the man suspected Mother was omega — with a son right here, eyes wide open, such insolent behavior could not be tolerated.

I deliberately whined about wanting to see other paintings, and Mother followed with an annoyed expression — but so did the man. The two of them talked deeply and enjoyably about art. Then the conversation drifted in an unwelcome direction.

"Are you unmarried, Count?"

No. Two sons and a daughter. A perfectly healthy spouse with both eyes open and very much alive. I was about to shout something to that effect when Mother beat me to it.

"I don't have a wife, at least."

"Ah, I see."

Bühlt glanced at me and smiled. This wretch. A successful painter, yet slow on high-society gossip. He was pleased to hear that Count Teiwind had no wife? Had he not heard that in lieu of a wife there was a husband?

"I'd been painting nothing but landscapes in the countryside, and the city is quite overwhelming."

"It is noisy and crowded. But the city has its own charms."

"Yes, it certainly seems to."

Bühlt stared at Mother and blushed. Mother was indeed one of the city's great charms, but that didn't mean this man needed to be charmed.

"I've never done portraiture before. But lately I've developed a sudden interest."

"Oh, how fascinating. Have you found a good subject?"

"Yes. Perhaps."

Surely not our mother. But the odds of it being anyone else looked slim. A rustic provincial painter, of course he'd be bowled over by someone as beautiful and refined as Mother. Normally I wouldn't have worried much. Many people were attracted to Mother, and most never even made it to friendship. Mother had his own standards. But this was different. To be frank, I was beginning to worry that the demon king's position might be in jeopardy.

Lenoc Teiwind's nemesis is the demon king Kloff Bendyke and no one else! I cannot surrender him to a fool like this!

The man looked ready to ask Mother to model for him at any moment, and if it turned out to be a nude portrait, there would be a bloodbath. I decided it was time to summon the demon king.

"Father, I need to use the lavatory."

"Do you know where it is?"

"Of course. I'll be right back."

Leaving behind Mother and the man, who seemed oddly pleased at my departure, I pretended to head for the lavatory, then went to a museum attendant instead. I borrowed paper and pen and wrote a letter. Then I went outside and handed it to the waiting coachman, telling him it was an urgent dispatch from Count Teiwind to Viscount Bendyke and must be delivered to the capital office at once.

After the carriage vanished in a cloud of dust, I reentered the museum. At some point Mother and Bühlt had seated themselves side by side on chairs set up in one corner of the museum, deep in intimate conversation.