4
“I’ll return in a little while, so please finish your meal.”
“Mm! Just leave it there!”
I waved cheerfully at the maid as she withdrew, but then a sudden thought struck me.
‘I still don’t even know the name of the ancestor whose body I now inhabit, do I?’
Feigning a child’s playful curiosity, I decided to ask outright.
“Hey… what’sh my name again?”
“Pardon? You’re Lady Calidora… aren’t you?”
The maid looked at me as if baffled by the question.
‘Calidora… the same name Lord Abelus and Lord Tiverius kept calling me.’
At last, another piece of the puzzle slid into place. Yet, frustratingly, no memory surfaced about that name. Was she from a branch line I had never heard of? Or a distant offshoot?
While I brooded, the maid bowed politely and slipped out.
‘So she truly was here just to attend me not to guard me.’
I almost laughed at myself. All this time, I’d mistaken this for a punishment, blind to the fact that I had fallen into the past.
Perhaps it was time to live a little less on edge.
Trotting over to the table, I wrinkled my nose at the sight of a milk bottle with someone else’s lip marks still upon it. For days now, every meal brought into my room had looked like someone else’s leftovers.
Until now, I had endured it quietly, assuming it was part of my penance. But…
‘Locked away in this room all day, given food unfit for a noble lady, and scolded harshly by Lord Abellus whenever he deigned to appear…’
Why was Lady Calidora being treated with such contempt?
I needed to know. If I was to aid my ancestors and safeguard the house, I could not live in ignorance.
But how to learn the truth?
I was still confined. The only people I saw were the maids at mealtimes. Questioning them too bluntly, without knowing the household’s mood, would be dangerous.
I searched the room in hopes of finding some clue. Nothing.
‘No good. I’ll have to step outside.’
I studied the door carefully.
‘It opens inward, not outward. And no lock visible on this side. The Ignitius manor was never built with prison cells so this door must simply latch.’
In other words, all I needed to do was reach the handle and pull.
Unfortunately, the handle was far above my head, out of reach even if I jumped.
After a moment’s thought, I dragged a footstool, some pillows, and a thin tablecloth to the door. Stacking them into a precarious tower, I climbed atop and looped the long cloth over the handle.
“Hnn… nghh… open… please…”
At last, the latch clicked and the door creaked ajar. I squeezed my small body through the gap and pulled it wider.
‘Success!’
My heart leapt. I glanced up and down the corridor which was empty. Though I had escaped, I had no plan for what to do next.
Should I seek out my ancestors again? Or try to gather information from the servants first?
After some hesitation, I decided to head toward the manor’s central wing, where people would surely be.
Slipping through the halls was easy. I had been a mischievous child once; I knew how to dart between columns, hide behind jars, and vanish into alcoves.
‘Oh, no… this is bad.’
Near the lord patriarch’s office, I crouched behind a massive potted plant, too frightened to move. The corridor was teeming with people.
‘Wait… that woman…’
The very maid who had brought my meals was walking off toward a quieter wing. I abandoned the idea of seeking Lord Tiverius and decided to follow her.
‘The kitchens?’
Voices spilled out as I crept closer.
“Look at this, today’s snack is bread with figs.”
“Hey, that’s for the masters! You can’t just take it!”
“You don’t know? Of course you don’t, you only started two days ago, Pilus. Let me enlighten you.”
The man tore a piece of bread, my bread, judging by the tray and grinned at his protesting companion.
“It’s fine, it’s fine. This belongs to that girl; the cast-off daughter. No one cares if we pinch a little.”
“Cast-off? What do you mean?”
‘They’re talking about me.’
My ears strained against the door.
“The head adopted her as heir only a week ago. But afterward, he learned the brat has no gift and can’t wield any power at all.”
So Lord Tiverius had adopted me? As heir, no less?
That much was plausible. Ignitius was known for its openness to adoption, especially in these days when everything was measured by magical power. A fostered child of the same fire clan, if strong, could be treated as the equal of a legitimate heir.
‘But… I cannot wield power?’
That made no sense. Any child born to a noble line should manifest their gift as naturally as breathing.
“What nonsense. What noble child has no power?”
“Exactly. The girl’s mother must have been a fraud. Probably bore another man’s child. You should’ve seen the household when she arrived. Everything was dead silence, as if they’d witnessed a crime.”
“…”
“The physician even said, ‘Her mana is in a grievous disorder. Is this truly the long-awaited Ignisia?’ I’ve never seen the lord so furious. Looked ready to toss her into the flames.”
“Then why hasn’t he cast her out already?”
“Who knows, maybe he’s too busy or saving face. Either way, keep this quiet. If word spreads, folk like us will pay with our lives.”
“And how do you know all this?”
“Shh. There’s a crawlspace up in the hall arch. I overheard while cleaning.”
I had guessed Lady Calidora’s circumstances were dire, but this was far worse than I imagined.
Still, their tale had cracks. If she truly were born of infidelity, her name would never have been inscribed in the lineage. Lord Tiverius would have annulled the adoption immediately.
No, the more likely truth was that Lady Calidora bore Ignitus blood but, for some reason, could not wield her gift. And to annul an adoption required the Senate’s consent. Other houses might seize upon her case to claim a flaw in Ignitius’s bloodline.
That, I realized, was why she had been locked away.
‘How dare they spread such filth without knowing the truth!’
Though I knew neither the faces nor the names of Calidora’s parents, to hear them maligned so baselessly filled me with fury.
The servants laughed, pilfering more of my portion, emboldened as others joined in.
“Don’t touch that!”
“Eh? Who’s there?”
One man turned and his eyes widened.
“Gasp!”
“What is it?”
Another maid glanced over then shrieked.
“Kyaa! L–Lady Calidora…!”
“Y-you think she heard?”
“So what if she did? She’s just a child. I’ll smooth it over.”
A servant stepped forward, feigning gentleness.
“My lady, did you lose your way? Come, let’s get you back to your room.”
“I heard everything! Don’t try to wriggle out of it!”
I forced strength into my small voice.
“My lady, the lord, ordered you not to leave your room. If he learns you’ve disobeyed, you’ll be in serious trouble. We’ll keep this our secret but only if you stay quiet about what you heard, yes?”
They smiled awkwardly, coaxing me as though I were a fussy child.
“You think I’m a baby?”
“… What did she just say?”
For a heartbeat, they were dumbstruck. Then laughter burst out, crude and mocking.
“Pwahahaha!”
“Oh no, of course not! You’re an adult, my lady. Shall we call you madam from now on?”
Ah, foolish me. In my indignation I had forgotten that I truly was a child.
“Don’t laugh! You dare insult a blood of this house? Do you even know how great a mishstake that is?”
