IBSGAD 09

Episode 9: As Gifts Go, They Should Be Exchanged!

When we returned to the mansion, exhaustion crashed over me all at once. Even stretching didn’t help. It felt like the day in my past life when I came back from the battlefield—every bit of strength drained from my body. Only then did I realize how tense I’d been in front of the duke. Obviously. When your neck is basically on the line, who can stay calm?

—Knock, knock.

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

“Huh?”

As Lothia set me down on the bed, he asked:

“Shall I open it? It’s Delfiro.”

He doesn’t have a magic eye, so there’s no way he can see through the door, right? I glanced toward it and nodded, as if confirming the answer.

“Mm-hmm.”

At my reply, Sir Lothia gestured.

“Open the door.”

The moment the words left his lips, the door flew open.

“My lady!”

There stood Delfiro, both hands on his hips, body language screaming ‘I’m furious!’

“If you don’t rest properly from now on!”

This was already the third day in a row he’d come to my room. His face was seriously angry.

Ack! It’s the doctor’s nagging! I can’t escape it in this life either?

“I’ll put a horribly bitter herb into your porridge!”

…Okay, the content of the nagging was different this time. With that threat, Delfiro stormed out—though I clearly saw him turn sideways in the hallway and grin. Hah. Times like this, staying a kid is convenient.

Still, I decided to listen to the doctor. If it weren’t for that magic circle incident, I wouldn’t have gone out anyway. Listen to the doctor, live longer. …Though if they find out I’m a mage, that wouldn’t matter.

“Delfiro seemed really mad!”

Azelta exaggerated her expression, waving her hands. Her wavy brown hair swayed gently as she smiled.

“You really have to rest now. I’ve tasted that bitter-herb porridge before and—ugh!”

She shuddered dramatically.

“It’s so bitter!”

Azelta trembled as if even remembering it traumatized her.

“So you understand, right? You mustn’t go out!”

I nodded rapidly.

“Okay, okay.”

I don’t like porridge, and bitter porridge is even worse! Besides, I didn’t plan on going out for a while anyway. If monsters show up near the Fog Sea like the duke said, I’m definitely not fighting one in my condition.

‘Those monsters will exist at your side before you notice them, and they’ll approach you in a form more familiar than you’d expect.’

I had no intention of ignoring that icy warning.

“Okay, Azelta.”

Only after she double-checked multiple times did she finally tuck me into bed.

“Whew… what a long day.”

I muttered when the lights went out. In the dark, I blinked for no reason. In my past life, when I couldn’t sleep, I’d create a small magical light to play with until I got sleepy. But doing that now would be a one-way ticket to execution.

…If mages are executed, how am I supposed to make a living?

Five years old and already worrying about my future career—I fell asleep quickly.

After that outing, even if it wasn’t very long, Nasia slept for two whole days. She was still young, and having been shut indoors most of her life, even that small “trip” had exhausted her.

Ain looked down at the sleeping Nasia.

When her brown eyes sparkled with curiosity while looking around, he couldn’t bring himself to approach. When their eyes met in the carriage—

…!

That gaze held wariness. A child who had become an adult too early, someone who more or less understood what had happened to her. From a family full of enemies, sold into yet another house full of strangers. She trusted no one. Not even Azelta—who was chosen specifically because children liked her.

Ain narrowed his eyes. She would need time. Only when Nasia herself decided this place was safe would she lower her guard. If he tried approaching too early, it would only backfire.

The reason he knew was simple:

Ain von Iterre had been the same way.

—Clink.

He set down the cloth pouch he had brought. Sand wouldn’t scatter; he had carefully brushed and prepared it himself. It was the gift he wanted to give Nasia. He had no idea if she would like it. His childhood wasn’t normal, and he had never interacted with children—not while living on a land overrun by monsters, not while sweeping through battlefields.

…At least, not until a few days ago, when he impulsively adopted Nasia.

—Soft breathing.

Sleeping Nasia occasionally trembled near her eyes. Such a small movement. Without realizing it, Ain reached out to her.

“Nngh…”

She curled up as if having a nightmare—coiled like a hedgehog, instinctively raising her spikes. If those spikes broke, they would only hurt her. Ain withdrew his hand.

Not yet. Not until she knows I’m her ally.

He stepped back. Delfiro’s words surfaced in his mind:

‘She seems to have had a harder time at the baron’s house than we thought.’

A child unfamiliar with having personal belongings. She probably had nothing that belonged solely to her.

Something she could enjoy…

He glanced at Nasia, clutching a pillow bigger than she was.

“I want to make a doll.”

The knight’s eyes widened.

“A… doll?”

Preferably a large one. He’d heard that noble children in society circles always had attachment dolls—often adorned with jewels to show how cherished the child was. A doll too small wouldn’t do.

His eyes returned to Nasia’s room.

“A hedgehog-shaped one.”

“A… hedgehog?”

The knight blinked. No one here even knew what a hedgehog looked like; they only knew it had many spikes, like a sea urchin.

“Bring me several design drafts. I’ll choose one.”

“Yes, sir!”

The knight straightened, and when Ain turned around, his expression looked… lighter.

Am I imagining things?

I not only slept two days straight—I even overslept. No one woke me until the sun was high.

“You were sleeping so peacefully… we couldn’t disturb you.”

Azelta opened the curtains. Light spilled in, blowing the thin white fabric like mist. I stared blankly until I noticed something on a new drawer that matched my height.

“What’s that?”

I pointed. With sleep-blurred eyes, I looked closer.

“A… shell?”

Not a huge shell, but palm-sized—several of them, holding a few grains of white sand each. Under the midday sunlight, they gleamed in pastel colors. They were gorgeous.

“Wow…”

Is the fog not here today? I peeked out the window; the sky was clearer than yesterday. Dark and gloomy compared to my past world, but clear for this region.

I picked one up. Azelta smiled.

“The Duke placed them there while you were sleeping.”

My hand slipped. The shell dropped on the blanket.

“W-who did?”

“The Duke.”

She repeated, still smiling.

That man? Giving me something cute like this?

My heart chilled. Did he figure out I’m a mage?

“He said to tell you he was sorry for entering your space without permission yesterday.”

Azelta lowered her voice.

“And he picked them himself.”

Cue me nearly collapsing.

I couldn’t imagine the terrifying Duke Iterre crouching by a foggy shore, rummaging through sand to look for shells.

There was even a sprig of fresh elixir herb I recognized. He really did collect them himself.

Unlike the giant candy (which was a bit much), this gift was actually nice. Something a child—not a mage—would like. Especially the shiny shells.

“They’re so pretty!”

I couldn’t help squealing. Morning instantly became wonderful.

“Yes!”

When I bounced on the bed, the shells jumped with me, scattering a few grains of white sand that glittered in the sunlight.

“Do you like them?” Azelta asked, tidying around me.

I nodded—then spotted something in her pocket. A piece of my candy.

Right.

“Wait, Azelta.”

I opened my hands and drew the elixir herb toward me with magic. When I was small in my past life, I remembered weaving long herbs into strings. My tiny hands fumbled, but I managed to make a thin cord.

“Mm—!”

Satisfied, I tied a shell to the center.

Gifts should be exchanged!

He gave me something pretty, so I should give him something too.

“….”

Then I imagined the duke wearing a pastel shell necklace.

…Was that really okay?

But ignoring his gift felt worse. He’d given me gifts before—like that shield-sized candy—and I’d pretended not to notice.

And besides…

‘Don’t stay here too long.’

He didn’t seem like a bad person. He didn’t want anything from me? Hard to believe, but still… when someone offers sincerity, I should return sincerity.

“Azelta! Let’s go!”

—thump!

I hopped off the bed like a general. In teddy-bear slippers.

“To where?” Azelta asked.

I stood proudly.

“To the Duke!”

Should I call him father? …Still too awkward.

Sir Lothia followed behind me silently—my assigned escort. Since he risked his life helping me escape that magic circle trap, maybe I should make a second one for him?

I held up the fragile necklace. The cord wasn’t strong. I glanced back—Lothia walked dutifully behind. Maybe he could wear it like a flower crown?

He noticed me staring.

“Mm, never mind.”

He tilted his head in confusion.

Etiquette first. Since the duke gave the original gift, he should receive mine first.

“You’ll fall!” Azelta fretted.

“I’m fine!”

The hallway carpet was soft anyway. Just a little farther and I’d reach the duke’s office—

—thud!

“Ow!”

I smacked into something large and dark. Why is there a pillar in the middle of the hallway? Rubbing my forehead, I looked up.

And made eye contact with a man.

“Uh…?”

He had duller blond hair than the duke. Where the duke’s eyes were a clear ocean blue, his were darker—deep like the abyss, almost predatory.

He looked like the duke… but wrong. Like the same base image, aged the wrong way.

Objectively handsome—but unsettling.

Then I realized why.

He had the same forced smile as Reytan, the man who betrayed me in my past life.

“My new niece, I presume.”

He bent toward me, blocking the light. Unlike the duke’s sunlike presence, his shadow was ominous.

“…”

I stepped back instinctively.

Danger. He felt dangerous.

His breath brushed me—wet, unpleasant.

And I smelled it.

Mana.

Magic.

In a world where magic is forbidden.

My eyes widened.

No way…

—clink.

My shell necklace lost its pendant. The largest shell, the one meant for the duke, fell.

The man stepped closer. His polished black shoe—

—crunch.

The shell shattered beneath him.

“My she—”