Chapter 55

Did this mean he trusted her?

Nerys felt a bit taken aback. It wasn’t as though she planned to betray Cledwyn, but this felt excessive.

Just because she saved his life once, did that make them sworn allies or something?

No, to begin with, was it even possible for someone of his status to have a sworn ally like her?

From what she had seen, Cledwyn was not yet as flawless as the impression she had of him from the future. After all, he had almost died this time.

If that was the case, wouldn’t forming a connection with someone as ruthless as her do him more harm than good?

He was still young. If his sense of morality was skewed at this stage, who would take responsibility?

If she had voiced these thoughts aloud, Cledwyn would have probably laughed in disbelief.

Who was calling whom young? And lecturing about morality?

Of course, he had no way of knowing that Nerys had returned from the future or that she was far older than she appeared.

But she didn’t need his permission to have her own thoughts.

With all these complicated ideas swirling in her head, she barely noticed when Cledwyn finished his conversation and returned. He arched a dark eyebrow at the way she was eyeing him.

“Why?”

“You distracted me.”

“Good.”

Cledwyn sat back down across from her.

The length of the library desks varied depending on when they were built. The ones in Zakaria Library were as old as the building itself and quite short.

As a result, only about the width of three books stacked together separated them.

“I was planning to give you this today.”

“What is it?”

Cledwyn handed her a cream-colored envelope. She had no idea where it had come from.

Nerys accepted it and opened it without hesitation.

Inside were several pages of documents. As she skimmed through them, her eyes widened slightly in surprise.

She quickly read to the end, then looked up at Cledwyn with a now-composed gaze.

“Why are you giving me this?”

“A gift. Do you dislike it?”

Of course not.

This was the perfect excuse to leave Rohez for the entire summer and avoid Baron Nine, who could cause trouble at any moment. Even better, she could take her mother with her.

“When did you speak to the Ferrishers?”

Ferrisher was a beautiful territory, not too far from Rohez, but politically distant enough that Baron Nine’s influence didn’t reach it.

The Viscountess of Ferrisher usually resided in her father-in-law’s county, Wicaster, but she spent the summer in Ferrisher due to its scenic landscapes.

The documents stated that this summer, Nerys’ mother had been selected as a lady’s maid for the viscountess.

It was a short-term position, but the employment included room and board for both mother and daughter.

Nerys knew enough about the Viscount and Viscountess of Ferrisher to trust this arrangement at face value.

And, most importantly, while her mother was by the viscountess’ side, she would be safe.

Cledwyn’s lips curled slightly.

“I didn’t talk to them. I just made a small adjustment to Lady Truydd’s application.”

“My mother applied for this?”

Noble households never openly recruited personal attendants. They preferred to hire through recommendations—just like how Heather had become a lady’s maid for Valentin.

So how had her mother, living quietly in a rural village with few acquaintances, even learned about this opportunity?

Then, Nerys understood.

Of course, Cledwyn wouldn’t have directly ordered Ferrisher to hire someone.

Instead, he would have made sure that word of this job opening accidentally reached her mother.

He would have created the right conditions for her to submit an application and then ensured that when the viscountess reviewed the candidates, any more qualified applicants mysteriously disappeared from the list.

Cledwyn might trust her, but she still didn’t trust him completely.

Her original plan for the summer had been to return to Rohez, hoping Baron Nine’s pride would prevent him from targeting someone who had already been punished at school.

She had hoped that, at the very least, he wouldn’t go so far as to completely ruin their lives.

But while Baron Nine might have been willing to let things slide, Angarad would not.

Nerys had braced herself for some level of hardship.

If it came down to it, she was prepared to use the Elandria name—even if she found it disgusting. That would keep things from reaching the worst possible outcome.

But Cledwyn had erased the problem at its root.

“…Thank you.”

She hadn’t asked for help dealing with Baron Nine.

Even though they had long since formed an alliance, Cledwyn must have known she still didn’t fully trust him.

It wouldn’t have been unreasonable for him to get angry or start doubting her in return.

Yet he had casually extended a helping hand without expecting anything in return.

Nerys was surprised by that.

Cledwyn, still smiling faintly, said,

“It’s a birthday present.”

Birthday?

‘Ah.’

That was right.

Today was her birthday.

It had been so long since she had received a genuine celebration that she no longer thought of birthdays as something to look forward to.

The Elandria family hadn’t even known her birth date.

And when she had been the crown princess, her birthday had been nothing more than an excuse for the imperial family to receive bribes under the pretense of “gifts” for her.

Not once had she received a present that seemed like it had actually been chosen for her.

Her mother had been the only one who had sincerely celebrated her birthday.

But since her birthday always fell during the school term, they had never been able to celebrate it together in person.

As a result, Nerys had gone nearly twenty years without consciously acknowledging her own birthday.

And yet… he knew?

She had no idea how to respond to that.

She realized she had even forgotten how to properly say thank you when being congratulated.

‘Thank you for the congratulations.’

A simple phrase. She had said it countless times before nobles, yet why did it refuse to leave her lips now?

It felt as though something was stuck in her throat.

Nerys reluctantly acknowledged the feeling a moment later. It was, in some way, a kind of emotion—perhaps even something akin to being moved.

Cledwyn had probably said it casually. He had surely researched her thoroughly, so knowing her birthday was hardly remarkable.

And whatever he intended to give her today, calling it a birthday present made sense. If he had given it a week earlier, he could have simply called it an early birthday present.

But it had been so long since she had received something that genuinely made her happy on her birthday.

So long since someone had remembered her birthday without political motive.

The familiar scent of books in the library gave her just a small moment of respite.

A moment to remove the mask of strong and unyielding Nerys Truydd, the one she always wore.

A moment to recall a version of herself that perhaps hadn’t existed since childhood—a Nerys Truydd who was fragile, who believed in sincerity.

And so, just for that moment, she ignored the thirty-year-old crown princess within her who screamed this is a mistake, you’ll be used again.

Nerys gave Cledwyn a soft smile. And this time, though her words were similar, they carried a slightly different meaning.

“Thank you.”

After all, what harm was there in smiling just once?

The sunlight that touched Nerys’ smiling face was purely coincidental.

Books were vulnerable to light, so the library’s illumination was restricted. Yet, for the sake of ventilation and conserving candles, the building could not be without windows.

Through one such small, distant window, a golden beam streamed in, reflecting off the dust in the air and landing gently upon Nerys.

Cledwyn thought her smile resembled a small flower.

A wildflower, resilient enough to break through storms, through stone, blooming wherever it pleased.

A flower that no one had cultivated, yet still managed to unfurl its pure white petals, its piercingly blue hues.

But could anyone say that such a flower bloomed simply because it was strong? That it had not struggled, that it had not suffered?

In truth, every plant that failed to bloom had simply perished. The ones that survived had never been given a choice.

They had to live—because if they didn’t, they would die.

Humans, with their self-centered appreciation for beauty, viewed such survival as something lovely.

But was there not also a certain right, a certain freedom, in feeling that beauty when one saw it?

Cledwyn understood why she was here.

She had saved the only heir of the grand ducal house, so naturally, she deserved compensation.

Since she had not asked for anything, he had merely provided what she might need. Making minor arrangements with the simple-minded Ferrisher Viscounty had hardly been difficult.

Yes, it was just an ordinary form of repayment.

Until she looked as if she might cry.

The way her eyes widened in surprise over a mere handful of documents was, strangely, quite endearing.

She was usually so adept at concealing her emotions, which made it clear that she was genuinely pleased.

But knowing her, she might start overthinking it.

So he had casually called it a birthday present.

See? I have a reason to give it to you.

He had already discovered her birthdate in his prior investigations, so pretending ignorance would have been pointless.

But then—her expression wavered.

As if she were something long thought to be mere stone or wood, suddenly realizing that she, too, was alive.

As if the realization itself was something utterly foreign.

That expression was far removed from the poised and ladylike demeanor she usually displayed.

Yet, Cledwyn thought it suited her far better.

Even the fleeting, wry smile that followed.

Unfortunately—or, perhaps, inexplicably disappointingly—that expression vanished in an instant.

Nerys, back to her usual composed self, spoke calmly.

“Thanks to you, I’ll be able to spend this summer comfortably. If I make a good impression on the viscountess, my mother might even have stable summer employment from now on. If we need to contact each other during the break, what should I do?”

“Just go there first. I’ll let you know how when the time comes.”

In the quiet of Ferrisher, she would have plenty of time to think.

Time to plan, and time to put those plans into motion.

Finally able to anticipate the upcoming summer break with peace of mind, Nerys nodded.