Previously
Ato urges Heyer to pursue the throne under the full moon, but Heyer dismisses the notion and departs on horseback for the Asheri estate. After enduring the icy river, Iris washes ashore and collapses from sheer exhaustion.
A King Is Born upon the Road
Before long, blankets were wrapped around Iris, and a brazier was placed before her.
Seeing that she was not brought inside the house, it seemed Litero meant to conduct his inquiries first.
Having stepped willingly into the eye of the storm, Iris feigned ignorance and asked,
“Why are you staying here, Lord Patriarch?”
“Pardon?”
“Is this not the detached annex?”
“It is, yes.”
“I came intending to seek your help from the start, but… the two of them are rather too harsh with you, are they not?”
Iris deliberately put on a displeased frown. It was a transparent attempt to drive a wedge between them.
Yet Litero, who had presided over the Asheris—the house known as the white foxes—for a very long time, gave a gentle smile after only a short pause.
“Young people never know their place. It must be my own failure to teach them.”
“Hardly. Word has spread far and wide of how passionately the Asheri family educates their children.”
“Aside from the passage of time, what cause could this old man have to feel slighted?”
Saying so, Litero signaled for a table to be set between them. Only now was tea served. Iris understood that this meant he wished to hear more of what she had to say.
Gazing across the garden, Iris pointed toward a fountain in the distance sculpted in the likeness of the Goddess of Alchemy.
“It is a truly beautiful fountain.”
That fountain had once stood in the garden of Litero’s childhood home; he had gone to great pains to track it down and install it here.
Litero smiled in silence.
In the meantime, drawn perhaps by the warmth, every white fox in the garden—with fur dazzlingly white and dark red eyes—came darting toward the two of them.
Showing no alarm at all, Litero spoke to Iris, who was stroking only the fox curled upon her lap.
“You seem quite taken with that one.”
“It is this one that seems taken with me.”
“Would you care to feed them?”
“May I?”
“Of course.”
At Litero’s gesture, the servants tending the foxes hurried over. When they returned with a tub piled high with skinned lemmings, Litero said,
“You need only cut the meat and offer it.”
Faced with this, ordinary nobles would scream and flee.
Iris had once done the same, and it had promptly been taken as a slight against House Asheri.
Knowing that, Iris extended her hand to a servant at once, took the knife, and cleanly sliced the meat in two.
“Come here.”
Blood dripped from Iris’s pale, delicate hand.
One of the foxes, having hesitated before a stranger, trotted up, took the meat in its jaws, and bounded away.
“This one is the boldest.”
“We call him Con.”
“Con.”
As if recognizing his name, Con pricked up his ears.
When Iris tossed the remaining half toward Con and proceeded to feed only him, Litero chuckled softly.
“You ought to share it evenly.”
“Does staying inside a pen not breed weakness? They should compete among themselves.”
“…”
“If they are hungry, they will charge in and take it. How else will they know the value of the hand that feeds them, unless they have starved?”
The children of your noble house have long forgotten that gratitude.
Litero, who had secured his standing in these lands through sheer shrewdness, caught the barb hidden in her words, but merely laughed it off with an easy chuckle.
Having eaten his fill, Con trotted back to Iris and thoroughly licked the blood from her hand, while the other foxes scampered toward the servants as if begging to be fed.
Full and content, Con nuzzled his head against Iris’s hand and trailed after the group as they set off once more.
Litero said,
“Heyer was the one who raised Con.”
“Ah.”
At the mention of Heyer’s name, Iris paused to think of him.
She remembered the man who had smiled until his very last moment.
Perhaps he could have had everything the world had to offer.
Having left Heyer behind on the frozen northern plains where no one would venture lingered heavily in her heart. She felt as though this ache would never leave her until she saw his living face again.
Litero asked,
“Did you come seeking House Asheri deliberately?”
“Yes. To ask for the Lord Patriarch’s aid.”
“Is that so.”
He gave a slow nod and stood.
“You have traveled far, so I shall arrange a room for you. I will see that you have a fine room in the annex.”
“Thank you.”
Iris rose to follow Litero.
* * *
The Asheri family annex, situated on the border with Suyeo, carried the palpable essence of a realm where the cultures of both nations intertwined.
Walking ahead at a leisurely pace, Litero spoke.
“My grandson did not seem to suit your tastes, it appears.”
It was a question asking why she had complicated things when marriage to Sid Repos would have made everything so simple.
Iris stopped in her tracks and said,
“Lord Patriarch.”
Noticing her tone, Litero made a gesture. The butler handed over the key, bowed, and quietly withdrew.
Alone with him in the hallway, Iris continued.
“It is natural for House Asheri to support the First Prince.”
“Indeed it is.”
“Yet do you truly believe that as well, Lord Patriarch?”
At her question, Litero narrowed his eyes and looked at her.
Iris pressed on.
“He is your first grandchild, so I understand your exceptional affection for him. However…”
“…”
Litero remained silent, allowing her to speak her mind fully.
Determined not to be swayed by this fox of an old man, Iris steadied her resolve and continued.
“My question is whether His Highness Sid Repos is capable of breaking through this crisis.”
At her words, Litero put on an air of contemplation. Though his mind had surely settled on an answer long ago, he was clearly feigning deep thought.
Luwan’s ruin had not arrived overnight. Even six years ago, it had already been fracturing and crumbling on all sides.
Those who felt the nation’s waning power most keenly were border families like House Asheri.
They would have been the first to realize that more people were fleeing from Luwan into Suyeo than from Suyeo into Luwan.
Litero asked,
“Do you see some flaw in Sid?”
“He struck me as far too closed-minded.”
“…”
“I believe there is already no path for Luwan to survive if it casts out the pagans. Yet he is not a man who would ever join hands with them.”
“…That is true enough.”
Litero conceded.
“Which is why—”
“Ah, it would be best for you to retire for the night. This old man does not have the stamina to stand in one spot and converse like the young do.”
He deliberately cut the conversation short. Turning away from the room he had intended to offer, he said,
“Come to think of it, this room gets very little sun.”
“Is that so?”
“Let us go to the third floor. I shall give you a south-facing room.”
With those words, he took the lead up the stairs to the third floor.
Iris looked back at the room he had originally meant to give her. It was a dark room piled high with luggage—plainly a space that had served as a storage closet.
The new room on the third floor could not be called magnificent, but it was bright and tidy. Adjoining it was an anteroom for a maid, so the occupant could summon help even in the dead of night.
Through the change in her lodgings, she had been informed that her standing had been elevated from uninvited guest to welcome visitor in the middle of their conversation.
After looking around the room, she rang the bell, and a maid appeared from the side room.
“Greetings, my lady, my name is Annie… Good heavens, why are you so soaked!”
“Bathwater…”
Iris began, only to collapse as though the strength in her muscles had suddenly snapped.
“M-my lady!”
The maid, Annie, rushed forward. But as she caught Iris by the arm to steady her, she recoiled in fright.
“Y-you’re burning up, my lady!”
“…I survived, so it doesn't matter.”
“What kind of nonsense is that? Are you delirious from the fever?”
She has a sharp tongue for a maid…
While Iris was thinking this, Annie called for the servants. Soon, one of them took Iris onto his back and carried her to the bathroom, where the water had begun to heat.