Chapter – 39
“Probably. You’re a diligent worker, but you’re neither an excellent mercenary nor a good knight.”
“Hey, why are you suddenly insulting me?”
Ranken, who had almost been swept into the strange mood, snapped back to his senses.
“It’s the truth. Even in your duel with me, you didn’t step forward. You’re supposed to be the escort, yet Viretta keeps stepping in and looking after you.”
“It’s not that I’m not doing my job properly. Viretta just doesn’t know her place and keeps butting in.”
“That’s exactly my point. That’s probably why she keeps you around. And despite everything, you respect her wishes.”
“……”
Ranken made a sour expression, struck not quite at the heart but somewhere uncomfortably close.
He yelled at Viretta, argued with her, even sulked—but in the end, he always lost to her.
Not just lost—he was thoroughly, miserably defeated.
From the moment they first met, this woman had never been someone he could handle. Though she was undeniably a noble young lady who ought to be under his protection, she charged ahead recklessly, bizarre and unfathomable.
If asked whether Ranken had accepted Viretta, he wouldn’t know what to say. Even today, he still wanted to go home.
He simply couldn’t, so he stayed by her side to clean up her messes.
Calling it “respect” for Viretta was far too noble a phrase, but since he was weak to her by nature, it wasn’t entirely wrong either.
“Well, there’s no one better than me at dealing with Viretta.”
Tilting his head, Ranken decided he would be not a powerless mercenary, but a considerate person who looked out for Viretta.
“She’s the type who prefers protecting rather than being protected, being depended on rather than depending on someone else. Instead of living comfortably with a remarkable spouse, she’d rather provide that comfort to her partner. If she marries someone like Elena, it would fall apart quickly, and she’d end up doing something else.”
“But I’m not inferior to Viretta, you know? Logically speaking?”
“Put nicely, it’s being proactive. Put poorly, it’s the petty type that can’t tolerate a spouse who outshines them. Elena has that trait too—that’s why she’s refusing the Count’s money.”
Combining what he’d heard from the servants with his memories of Elena, Moslin’s deduction fit perfectly.
Even when she received the proposal, Elena hesitated. The reason was exactly as Moslin described.
She loved Count Karl Beckdelace and admired his character, but she had great pride.
Born the daughter of a humble farming family and becoming a mage—she took pride in that.
She believed she had carved out her own life and was far more remarkable than those lucky enough to be born into wealth. That pride made her hesitate to become a countess.
The moment she became his wife, she sensed her own life would be overshadowed by the Count’s fame.
Elena, who preferred to be the head of a snake rather than the tail of a dragon, agonized over the decision, but changed her mind after the Count’s heartfelt confession.
Yet temperament cannot be changed. In the end, they found themselves in a custody battle.
“If they’re guaranteed a certain degree of freedom, most people would rather live comfortably in someone else’s shadow. They hope to catch the eye of the wealthy or powerful. But occasionally, there are those who aren’t like that.”
Moslin’s gaze moved between Viretta and Elena.
“So they need to be the best?”
“Perhaps you could put it that way. Or you could say they want to lead their own lives. They’re adventurous. Special.”
Ordinary people wouldn’t file a lawsuit like this to begin with. Hardly anyone seeks divorce merely over differences in educational philosophy.
Especially when the other party earns well—most would try to endure it for the child’s sake.
Elena, filing for divorce over education, was an exceptional case among exceptional cases. That made her difficult.
“If they’re similar types, then she should know exactly where the weaknesses lie.”
I see.
Is that the crux of the trial?
Will Viretta really be able to pull this off…?
Iola and Viretta both looked calm—but they were the kind of people who would leap off a cliff without changing their expressions. Their faces meant nothing.
As Ranken stared toward where Viretta stood, he arrived at a forgotten truth.
“Huh?”
Could this be the failure point?
If they lost the trial = the Count becomes discouraged = they can’t borrow the road = transporting the dragon becomes difficult = Medridge might catch them = he goes home.
The thought flashed through his mind.
Viretta wasn’t a fool. If faced with practical difficulty or failure, she would change her plans.
To Ranken, this trial was a crucial turning point.
If they lost, the dragon hunt would be postponed.
If they lost and were detained by the Count, Medridge’s pursuit might follow.
“If we lose this trial, we’re in big trouble~.”
Once he reached that conclusion, his tension dissolved. Relaxing his waist, Ranken leaned comfortably back in his chair.
Only Moslin, unaware of Viretta’s temperament, stroked his cane with a serious expression.
“Yes. I may need to use a bit of magic.”
“Viretta, win even if it kills you!”
When a combat mage whose specialty was lightning spoke of “using magic,” what could that mean?
Sensing something ominous, Ranken shouted at the top of his lungs.
* * *
“Today’s trial is the third and final appeal. Mrs. Elena Beckdelace’s position remains unchanged. As Count Karl Beckdelace’s side has changed legal representatives, we will now hear their argument.”
The third trial that would determine a family’s fate.
Karl Beckdelace was pale as death.
In contrast, Viretta waved broadly at Ranken, who was cheering for her.
After blowing a kiss toward the gallery, she spun around to face the court.
“Your Honor. I will now explain why Count Beckdelace should be granted custody of Lucy Beckdelace.”
The judge looked at Viretta—who held the peculiar title of spokesperson for the Count’s lawyer.
Iola, who should have been the main figure in this battle, stood a step back like a spectator.
“I have reviewed the previous rulings. Both judges sided with Ms. Elena rather than the Count.”
Viretta lifted the rulings from the first and second trials and read aloud the core conclusion.
“If the plaintiff has pledged to renounce her child’s succession rights and claim to the Count’s estate, then there is no basis to view this lawsuit as targeting the defendant’s wealth or house. It is clear that the plaintiff’s actions are for the sake of her daughter; therefore, the mother’s decision should be respected.”
Viretta set the paper down. The written judgment fluttered to the floor.
Wearing an expression as though she were about to cause a scene, she said something unexpected.
“A logical and lawful ruling.”
Despite the Count’s power and wealth, Elena had won for a simple reason.
With current technology, one cannot be certain of a child’s father.
It was certain Lucy was Elena’s child—but not absolutely certain she was Count Karl Beckdelace’s.
Of course, there was no shadow of infidelity around Elena.
Yet academically and realistically, one cannot be absolutely certain of paternity.
In an era where science had not yet advanced, succession depended entirely on the acknowledgment of the one who passed it on.
Though the Count never doubted Lucy was his daughter, precedents established by others now strangled him.
Most custody cases involving fathers devolved into ugly disputes of, “How can you prove that child is mine?”
From such disputes came the conclusion: “A father, no matter how good, is only 98% a parent.”
One nobleman once won his case by arguing, “Yes, I met the woman, and the child resembles me—but isn’t there still a chance the child isn’t mine?”
Petty as it seemed, it was theoretically correct. There was a 2% chance he wasn’t the father.
Thus, courts tended to recognize mothers as the true guardians.
Unless complicated issues like inheritance or estate were involved, mothers won custody with high probability.
Exceptions existed if the child was grown or a precious son—especially when succession was imminent and confusion needed to be avoided.
But here, the child was a three-year-old daughter born to a commoner mother, and Count Karl Beckdelace was young and healthy.
He could have more children with another woman. Taking that into account, the court actively reflected the mother’s rights.
It was a reasonable ruling with no great flaws.
“Until I, Viretta Medridge, entered the scene.”
Placing her hand over her chest, Viretta smiled confidently. The gallery stirred.
Under everyone’s gaze, she looked around proudly.
“You’re all overlooking the most important fact in this ruling. Well, with ordinary thinking, that’s natural. It requires special insight and a shift in perspective to notice.”
“What is that woman…?”
“I can see it. As the daughter of Cadlen Medridge, owner of the Medridge Trading Company, and the granddaughter of its founder, Kalin Medridge—I can see it.”
This trial was a fight to borrow the road for transporting a dragon, and to secure the Count’s financial backing.
But there was something more—a personal emotion mixed in.
By coincidence, this was a trial that stirred the heart of Viretta, daughter of the famed Medridge Trading Company.
“Lucy must grow up in the Count’s embrace. Mrs. Elena Beckdelace is leading her child down an unhappy path.”
Elena stared at Viretta with a look of utter disbelief—like she wanted to kill her.
