Chapter 82

“I thought you came because you were worried about me.”

“I was worried.”

“And here I got all excited on my own, not realizing it was all about the money.”

“No. I would have come even without the money.”

“Right. To you, I’m always just work.”

“No. You’re not work.”

“Then what am I?”

Good question.

What exactly was he?

At a loss for words, Lieutenant Erabelle Vermilion merely opened and closed her mouth.

Commander Dezeb Avganis raised an eyebrow and strode toward her. With legs that long, it took him only a few steps to close the distance.

Erabelle trembled as she looked up at him, frozen stiff like a frog before a snake. His face, cast in shadow, sent a chill down her spine.

“What am I, then?”

“L-Lover...?”

Biting her tongue, she produced the answer after desperately analyzing the vast body of data that was Dezeb’s usual behavior.

His face immediately brightened.

“Correct, for once.”

“I see.”

“Just what I’d expect from the Academy’s top graduate.”

“Thank you...” ℴ

“Make sure you remember it that way. I’m your lover. Don’t ever forget it.”

Still smiling, he gently brushed back the strands of hair damp with sweat from Erabelle’s forehead.

“But if you’ve already got the lover card, why do you keep taking side jobs? Are you short on money?”

“It’s a habit. I’m sorry.”

“Bad habits should be corrected quickly.”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

Dezeb’s gaze shifted briefly toward Virgo.

The instant he felt it, Virgo began trembling again, his scales rattling against one another.

“Let’s go.”

“The Count must have been waiting long enough.”

Dezeb rested a hand against the small of Erabelle’s back.

Behind them came the sound of someone sobbing, accompanied by the rapid click, click of cameras.

Curious despite herself, Erabelle turned around.

Dozens of snake heads had emerged from the severed surface of Virgo’s neck, and every last one of them was bawling.

His team members stood around him with cameras raised, diligently preserving their team leader’s humiliating moment for posterity.

Was this level of insubordination really acceptable...?

“Erabelle.”

“Yes?”

“Why do you keep looking at other men?”

“Sorry. It was just such a fascinating sight.”

“If you find it that fascinating, should I cry for you too?”

“Um, Dezeb... I think that would be more terrifying than fascinating.”

“That’s enough. Be quiet.”

“Yes. Sorry.”

Half joking and half serious, they dumped the cleanup on the Dogs and boarded the small craft Erabelle had brought the day before, piloting it back to the Marquis’s ship.

***

“I hope I’m not imposing on such a busy man.”

By the time they returned, the Count was already waiting for them.

“Not at all. I’ve been wanting to meet you.”

“Thank you for saying so. Our girl is rather peculiar, and I couldn’t put my mind at ease speaking over comms. That’s why I came in person.”

“I’m glad you did. I wanted to meet you face-to-face as well...”

The atmosphere was warm and cordial.

“...”

Erabelle quietly turned her head and stared out the window.

The ship was drawing closer to the marquisate.

Its sheer scale was overwhelming.

Two suns. One hundred and thirty-two planets. One thousand two hundred and forty satellites.

The Avganis marquisate existed on an entirely different scale, to the point that it was difficult to think of it as the same kind of noble domain as the Vermilions’, which consisted of only three planets and a single moon.

The moment they entered the marquisate, a shadow crossed the Count’s face.

Erabelle wanted to reassure him that nothing awaiting him here could possibly be worse than meeting Dezeb, but even if she said so, he would never understand.

The ship proceeded directly toward the homeworld.

There was no special authentication process.

Normally, entering the system alone would have taken several days. Yet not only were they exempt from authentication, they were escorted all the way to the homeworld by dozens of warships in full ceremonial formation.

Once the ship landed, they disembarked and walked a short distance down a long corridor.

No matter where one went on the homeworld, every route passed through the front hall first.

Noble estates commonly layered several spells of this sort into their architecture.

“...”

The moment Erabelle stepped into the foyer, she stopped.

A large family portrait hung prominently in the center.

It was a warm painting.

The Marquis, the Marchioness, and a young boy who looked to be around twelve.

The three stood close together, and affection seemed to spill from the Marchioness’s fingertips as she rested a hand on the boy.

Erabelle found it difficult to look away.

The child bore an astonishing resemblance to Dezeb.

Hair and eyes black enough to seem as though they swallowed light, and features so similar they were almost a perfect copy.

“Maybe plastic surgery...”

“I was born beautiful. Where would I even need work?”

That was true.

Still, they looked too much alike.

As though they had been cast from the same mold.

Like doubles.

“Allow me to show you to your rooms.”

A servant of the household guided them to their respective quarters.

The Marquis would meet them again at dinner.

For now, they were to rest, change, and make their way to the dining hall at the appointed time.

A semi-formal dress had already been prepared for Erabelle.

Midnight blue, with matching shoes and several layers of jewelry fashioned from clear diamonds.

“...”

Erabelle stared at the outfit uneasily.

It was the first dress she had worn since the New Year Festival, and that had been years ago.

Apparently entertained by the way she kept dragging her feet instead of getting dressed, Dezeb fastened the necklace around her neck and laughed.

“You look pretty.”

Once properly dressed himself, he was dazzling.

The fitted vest emphasized his narrow waist, while the cut of his suit subtly drew attention to his long legs and the line of his hips.

The dining hall they entered together was just as absurdly luxurious.

The interior had been fashioned from space crystals that scattered soft prismatic light, while the meal consisted of the inner rib meat of an artificially cultivated ancient rare species.

The public lives of nobles were restricted in many ways due to their long lifespans and the need to preserve social balance, but within their own domains, they indulged in extravagance of every imaginable kind.

Dining rooms, in particular, were often designed around the meal itself.

Put simply, the surroundings became part of the dish—a giant plate enclosing the diners.

The entire environment was altered depending on the menu.

Hot food was served in a cool setting.

Cold food was served in a warm one.

And the effect was achieved not through holograms, but genuine spatial relocation technology.

Of course, even among nobles, not everyone could afford such excess.

Erabelle had wondered how the Vermilions, whose domain lay in a distant rural region, would react to such overwhelming luxury.

Unexpectedly, however, they remained perfectly composed.

“Welcome.”

That was because the Marquis was present.

The chair beside him was empty, but it was already widely known that the Marchioness was in poor health.

“...”

Erabelle carefully took the seat shown to her, then paused as she tried to reconcile the reality before her.

The current head of House Avganis, one of the oldest and most prestigious families in the Empire, looked strangely—

No.

Alarmingly—

like Dezeb.

Seeing him in person made the resemblance even more obvious than it had been in the portrait.

But in the original story, they had definitely performed a paternity test.

And the result had definitely shown that they were not related...

Still troubled by the contradiction, Erabelle suddenly met the Marquis’s eyes and went rigid.

He regarded people with the wary gaze of a man who trusted little, but the very next moment, as though she had imagined it, he resumed his warm conversation with the Count.

The Count folded almost immediately when House Avganis presented the prenuptial agreement.

“...”

Erabelle could not even blame him.

“As we discussed earlier, we have prepared a draft. If there is anything you find unsatisfactory, we will revise it immediately.”

The reason was simple.

The head of House Avganis, one of the Empire’s nine princely houses, was being bizarrely accommodating.

Thanks to that, everything moved at astonishing speed.

And with Dezeb quietly assisting from the side, it moved even faster.

For a while, Erabelle watched him with mild curiosity as he accepted the prenuptial agreement and subtly adjusted his behavior to suit the Count’s mood.

“...”

He looked remarkably serious.

***

The Count was busy.

Sanche remained at his side as well, intent on understanding exactly what was happening.

Erabelle quietly returned alone to the room she had been shown earlier.

If one could call an enormous freestanding structure a room, then yes.

In any case, the place known as the Sapphire Room had been decorated with blue nonmetallic minerals in keeping with its theme.

If she pried some off and sold them, she would probably be arrested.

Giving up on that impossible dream, Erabelle went out onto the balcony attached to the bedroom, leaned against the railing, and gazed at the view.

...I wonder if he’s all right.

Only yesterday, he had been battered from head to toe.

It was the second time she had seen him in such a state.

And yesterday had been worse than what she had seen at the research facility.

She did not dare call what she felt concern.

After all, he had gone there because of the Vermilions.

Lost in thought as she leaned against the railing, Erabelle suddenly flinched.

“What are you doing out there? It’s dangerous.”

With an instant hot dog clenched between her lips, she slowly turned around and looked at Dezeb.

“...”

“...”

Their eyes met.

Dezeb sighed.

“I had a feeling when I saw you undoing the back of your dress, but you really are eating a hot dog.”

He stared at her for a moment.

“No wonder you were talking about smoked sausages this morning.”

Then his eyes narrowed.

“You just wanted to eat them, didn’t you?”