The Sleeping Devil

Didier, who had left Sheriel's room, was unusually cheerful.

"Zaris, how can I become friends with someone? 'Giving what the other person desires, but not giving too much. Showing my own worth, but not revealing too much.' Wasn't that it?"

"Master Didier, Miss Sheriel is your family, so you should treat her like you do with Lord Sergio and Lady Dior. Just the same."

"Just the same, huh... But Father and Mother have always loved me from the beginning, right? I've never thought about making an effort to become friends with them."

Isn't becoming friends too abstract? Is he just casually saying things without intending to reveal any secrets?

"Well, first of all, why not do something that would make the other person happy?"

"I wonder what would make her happy. She's difficult compared to others. Even if I'm kind to her, she becomes wary, and even if I say something mean, she doesn't flinch... Well, that's what makes it interesting."

"It's important to get to know what the other person wants, what would make them happy, while spending time together."

Taking Zaris' advice into consideration and contemplating various things, Didier soon arrived at Sergio's office.

"So, I've decided to become friends with her in order to learn Sheriel's secret."

"Hehe, Sheriel's secret, huh? I'm curious too. Be sure to do your best, Didier."

Once Sergio finished listening to everything, he took out a few papers from a drawer and started flipping through them.

"Father, I plan to spend time with Sheriel every day from now on. Is it really okay for me to borrow Zaris?"

"Yes, it's fine for a few hours. Zaris is excellent, so he can take care of the children during his break."

"Lord Sergio, I will handle your workload during that time."

"Oh, well... I guess there's no choice. But speaking of which, I said I would leave the education to Dior, but it might not be possible anymore."

"Are you referring to a potential teacher?"

When Sergio took his eyes off the documents, he let out a deep breath and rubbed his forehead.

"We don't have enough teachers available for that child because of the ones Didier broke."

"I apologize for that."

"Even though we're family, please show a bit more remorse. You don't seem apologetic at all."

Father's troubled state somehow becomes amusing. At the same time, there's also a sense of trust that if it's Father, he can somehow handle it.

...Trust, huh? That's something he mentioned about as well.

"Will I be able to become friends with Sheriel?"

"If you genuinely want to be friends with her and make an effort, I'm sure you can. We are family, after all."

"Do you consider Sheriel as family, Father?"

Sergio stared into an empty space beyond the paper for a while, lost in thought.

...Father's thoughts are still difficult to read. He thought he would answer right away.

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"Well, I still don't fully understand either. The moment I saw her, I felt like she was someone I should protect. Her eyes resemble Claude's so much. But we've only just met, and she's still full of mysteries. I suppose you could say I'm concerned. That's the extent of it, for now."

That answer surprised Didier.

Considering the risks he took by bringing her here, he thought there would be an appropriate level of sentiment.

I still don't understand this person well, Didier thought and gave up early.

Sergio is the type of person who became the kingdom's greatest knight by instinctively swinging his sword. It's futile to try to read into his thoughts.

A genius who does everything based on intuition and instinct alone, that's the Lord of the Beriard Marquisate, Sergio Beriard.

"Well then, it might be me who becomes Sheriel's family first in this house."

"Hehe, I'm looking forward to it."

The next day, Didier visited Sheriel's room as he had declared.

He brought roasted sweet potatoes as a gift.

"Thank you for inviting me, Sheriel."

"Welcome, Didier-sama."

She should not have received lessons on etiquette yet, but she might have asked one of the maids. Sheriel greeted him with a simple greeting.

"I brought a souvenir today. It's still some time before dinner, right?"

Saying that, he signaled to the maid to hand over the steamed sweet potatoes in the basket.

"Sweet potatoes...?"

"You like them, don't you?"

"I wouldn't say I particularly like them."

"But you looked so happy eating them."

"I was happy because you went through the trouble of steaming and mashing them just for me. Did you bring them because you thought I liked them?"

... Sigh, that's just how she is.

It was a reason that made absolutely no sense. It's only natural for a cook to cook, and moreover, her eating the sweet potatoes was a prank from his mother. Is she an idiot? While thinking that, he pulled the basket back.

"You really are a strange one. Well, I'll take it back then."

Sheriel, who had been puzzled, suddenly blossomed with a soft smile on her cheeks. It was a subtle expression that could make one want to say, "I wouldn't notice if it wasn't me."

"No, thank you very much. It's thoughtful of you to consider various things for me. I'm happy."

It wasn't a clear swing of emotions from expectation to disappointment, relief to fear. However, this peculiar child was indeed wavering, and Didier felt something akin to a pleasurable sensation throbbing deep in his chest.

"Are you happy with something like that? This isn't something you wanted, right?"

"I'm happy because you thought of making me happy."

It seemed that Sheriel's wariness had diminished compared to yesterday. Just like yesterday, tea was prepared on the table, and the second tea party began.

"So, what do you want?"

"What I want... Books, I suppose."

"Books? Do you want to study?"

"No? I mean, fairy tales, love stories, hero tales, things like that."

"You wouldn't go through the trouble of making books out of that."

"...!"

"What? What's with that despair? I don't get it."

There were surely more things to despair about. He didn't understand, but it's too entertaining. What kind of imagination leads someone to want something like that... It seems that the Beriard blood is drawn to the unknown after all.

"Huh? Don't they exist? They're not real? But... the maid sometimes tells me fairy tales and such."

"Isn't that just an oral tradition? Noble nurses memorize stories for that purpose, and even commoners sometimes tell their children shortened versions of tales sung by minstrels."

"...What?"

Sheriel, for some reason, seemed stunned, her focus lost in the white-framed sapphire.

"If you ask the maids, they might tell you a few stories."

"Yes... I just thought it would help pass the time when they're free... I had given up on Netflix, though. No, it's fine."

"Oh, you're bored. But I think classes will start soon. Ah, right. It's not that interesting, but the temple scriptures might be similar to fairy tales. Would you like to read them?"

"The scriptures... I have heard stories from them before. I'd like to read them."

Didier was relieved that he wouldn't miss the next souvenir.

However, he furrowed his brow, puzzled by the fact that the first thing she desired was a scripture. Then it dawned on him.

Could this child have an attachment to knowledge?

In the case of Beriard, an attachment often emerged at this age. Didier himself experienced uncontrollable joy when he saw the maid pale at the sight of his injury when he was three years old.

Through various experiments, he realized that he had an attachment to "emotional fluctuations."

During this process, he had shattered the hearts of several individuals, so now only a limited number of people could be involved with Didier.

"What kind of stories are you interested in, Sheriel?"

"I found the fairy tales Mary told me interesting."

"How about stories about the Devil's Forest?"

"The Devil's Forest?"

Didier tilted his head, confused.

The tales of the Devil's Forest were the most famous stories known to everyone in the kingdom, so her confusion seemed unnatural. However, he remembered that she had been in a place for raising slaves, so he reluctantly understood.

Since the slave quarters were already prone to accumulating "impurity," they intentionally avoided terrifying stories.

"If you're not a good child, they say you'll be taken to the Devil's Forest and turned into a monster. They say that place is inhabited by creatures like demons, beasts, and fairies that you've never seen before."

"Wow! Are they really there? I'd love to meet them."

"Even around here, you occasionally come across fairies and beasts, so maybe they really do live there. But you know, the forest is also home to demons, and those demons turn humans and beasts into 'monsters.' Once they become monsters, they only harbor negative emotions and continue seeking impurity until their souls disappear."

"...Impurity."

Sheriel's eyes lit up at the mention of "beasts," which was puzzling, making it difficult to grasp what was stirring in her heart.

She didn't show fear towards stories that would normally frighten children.

Although she seemed happy, there wasn't a particularly excited demeanor about her.

Didier, having an attachment to emotional fluctuations, was more skilled than anyone else at sensing those nuances. At only ten years old, he surpassed the average adult as a prodigy of Beriard.

Didier had begun to take an interest in the enigmatic nature of Sheriel's mental structure.

"How about going out to the garden tomorrow?"

"Is that okay?!"

It was the biggest smile she had shown so far. Indeed, the daily life Sheriel described seemed unbearably boring, and Didier could imagine himself breaking or killing all three of them.

Sheriel casually talked about it with a sense of mystery...

If she were just an ordinary child without any "curse," it would be understandable. However, the fact that she possessed such understanding and a certain amount of knowledge, yet remained composed and tolerated boredom until someone gave her permission, didn't quite add up.

Didier sensed it. Sheriel had something that couldn't be explained even by being a Beriard.

Carefully, he approached her, disguising himself as a good older brother.

Acknowledging that even that little head possessed the intelligence to be wary of him, Didier restrained his curiosity and made a face that seemed to say, "Since I said we'll become friends, I reluctantly have to go along with it."

"I'll ask Mother about it. Anyway, once classes start, we won't be able to play leisurely."

"Thank you. What kind of classes do you take, Didier-sama?"

"Well, history, languages, arithmetic, swordsmanship, magic, social etiquette, political science, and also psychology and disguise. As for you, since you're a girl, don't you do embroidery?"

"So many subjects!? ...I guess being bored is fine for me after all."

"Ahaha, don't worry. It's little by little. Oh, but you can't learn magic until you complete the baptism ritual at the age of seven."

...Hmm, so she doesn't seem to have an attachment to knowledge.

His earlier speculation seems to have been off the mark.

The more he learns, the more mysteries arise, and she's the first person who he finds this intriguing.

"Then let's read the scriptures in the garden tomorrow. How about it? I'm trying to be a bit more like an older brother, you know?"

"Yes, I feel like I'm being treated as a research subject, but it was fun."

"Oh, so you noticed, huh? Well, it's better than being indifferent."

"Yes, please be gentle with me."

"Hehe, see you tomorrow."

There's no way I can go easy on her.

Didier's clumsy attempt at pretending to be a "good person" that could even fool a teacher didn't work. Moreover, Sheriel understood it and casually brushed it off like an adult.

Even after leaving the room, Didier couldn't stop thinking about Sheriel. She would speak with him as equals at times, but then react like a small child as her appearance suggested. There were moments when he felt skillfully manipulated.

He couldn't help but eagerly await tomorrow. It was only the second time in his ten years of life since the eve of the baptism ritual.