IVF 08

Chapter 08

“Guardian?”

Lucius reacted as though he had never heard the word in his life.

“Yes. Please allow me to borrow the power of the ducal house until I come of age.”

Six years remained until she reached adulthood.

She had just firmly established that she was twelve, so the duke must have naturally calculated the remaining time as well.

“The power of the ducal house, hm. Are you planning to incur some large debt under my name?”

“No. It’s not like that.”

Lumina hurriedly continued.

“My parents passed away recently. It was a carriage accident.”

One might have expected him to offer condolences, but Lucius merely looked at her calmly, as if telling her to go on.

As expected of a Legion—cold-blooded.

“Because of that, the relatives are divided into factions and fighting among themselves. Only my younger brother and I remain of the direct bloodline. I want my brother to safely inherit the family.”

“So that’s why you’ve set a time limit.”

“Yes. By the time I come of age, the hierarchy should be properly established.”

By then, Endymion would be old enough to take on the duties of head of the house without difficulty.

He’s still hesitating because he feels self-conscious around me, but I doubt he dislikes the idea.

If he truly hated it, then nothing could be done.

For now, she decided to worry about that possibility only if it actually happened.

“Your thinking is admirable, but that’s something that could be resolved without my involvement.”

Lucius rejected her bluntly.

“If you dislike battlefields or monsters, you only need to make your wishes clear. You possess a unique ability—people would certainly accommodate you.”

“……”

“Especially since you don’t seem to be a Legion capable of combat.”

“Doesn’t my ability interest you, Your Grace?”

“It would be a lie to say it doesn’t. But your ability would shine more on a battlefield you dislike than by my side.”

There were many reasons Lumina had sought Lucius out specifically.

One of them was that their interests aligned.

He wanted to save his son. She had the power to do so.

And he was a man compassionate enough to close the eyes of someone standing at death’s door.

I can’t tell him that story even if I die.

It seemed he did not remember his previous life, unlike her.

“Your ability is unusual and desirable, yes—but that’s all.”

As if losing interest, Lucius stood.

“It’s not a bad proposal, but there are many things to consider. Return home for now. I will give you my answer later.”

Lumina stared at him in disbelief.

He had likely decided to thoroughly investigate this suspicious girl before making any decisions. He seemed to think there was no need to assume unnecessary risk.

No.

If she retreated now, everything would collapse.

She had to cast bait he could never refuse.

Something that struck at his deepest weakness.

“The stronger the Legion, the more easily they are eroded by their own power. If unlucky, they can even approach death.”

“……”

“Is your son all right?”

Lumina’s healing ability was not limited to physical wounds.

The more a powerful Legion used their strength, the further they drifted from their identity as ‘human.’

And eventually, they would lose control.

But with Lumina’s ability, that loss of control could be prevented.

“You seem to know a great deal about your power. Have you met a Legion before?”

In this life, she had not.

But it would be strange to understand her ability so well without ever having met one.

“Yes.”

Lucius pressed his lips together and studied her carefully, as if weighing the truth.

Don’t shrink now.

She had to keep smiling no matter the situation. Without trembling, Lumina met his gaze confidently.

“I see.”

He accepted it.

She was just about to breathe a sigh of relief—

“What if I take only your ability and discard you?”

“……”

“You’re still young, so you may not know this—but there are more people who break promises than keep th—”

“You love your son.”

He faltered.

Lumina remembered the voice from her previous life—the one that spoke of his dead son.

A man standing before death would have no reason to feign such emotion. His regret at losing the chance to save his child had been genuine.

And…

Only a parent who truly loved their child could wear that expression.

It was one she had never once seen from her own parents.

“I would be the savior who saves your son’s life. Could you truly commit such a merciless act?”

“……”

“I don’t think so.”

Though she couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, she could tell he was surprised.

“You know something even my son doesn’t.”

“Well, you were very passionate when speaking about him earlier.”

That wasn’t merely an excuse.

A father who didn’t care wouldn’t know his son’s clothing size so precisely.

Young Lord Hart was loved.

How enviable.

With that thought, Lumina spoke again.

“I’ll treat your son. Will you become my guardian?”

“……”

“I promise you won’t regret it.”

She smiled with unwavering confidence.

Lumina returned safely to the estate.

Joseph, who had been searching for her until his feet were sore, scolded her upon finding her resting comfortably in a dress shop.

“I-I was scared I’d be punished for breaking the vase… I’m sorry…”

But it had all been part of her carefully planned excuse.

Muttering pitifully with drooping eyes, Lumina watched Joseph sigh helplessly.

Though she received a long lecture afterward, she let it go in one ear and out the other.

After much trouble, she returned home and waited for good news.

“The landscaping really doesn’t sit right with me.”

“You’re just being picky, Sister.”

Lumina muttered from Endymion’s room.

When she was there, none of the relatives came to see him.

Perhaps that was why Endymion welcomed her visits, and she tried to spend more time with him—though they didn’t talk much.

“Sister.”

“Hmm?”

“Have you no intention of moving rooms?”

Despite time passing since the funeral, Lumina still lived in the attic.

She was surprised he brought up such an uncomfortable topic.

He had never once raised his voice about her matters before.

When their parents were alive, their stepmother had been too domineering—and the siblings too awkward—for him to intervene.

But now their parents were gone, and Lumina had said she considered him family.

Perhaps that weighed on him.

“You are the legitimate daughter of the Langschus house. By principle, it is only right that you stay in a better room.”

“Endymion.”

His tone was flat and rigid.

For a moment, she wondered if a dictionary had learned to speak.

She called his name.

Perhaps feeling guilty for his previous silence, Endymion looked briefly flustered.

“Are you annoyed because the relatives keep coming? Since no one visits when I’m here, are you trying to keep me nearby permanently?”

“……That’s not it.”

His face stiffened.

As if determined to deny any impure motive, his already expressionless face grew even more devoid of emotion.

Taking his sincerity at face value, Lumina replied:

“It’s not uncomfortable. Anyway—”

Knock knock.

A maid entered.

“Miss, a guest has arrived. Please allow me to help you change.”

“What kind of guest?”

The maid seemed unusually flustered.

Ordinarily, Lumina had no visitors—and even if someone came, she was not allowed to meet them. That had been her stepmother’s rule.

Though her stepmother was dead, nothing had changed. Everyone in the house had been her people.

They even called Lumina “a freeloader” for visiting Endymion.

“Duke Hart wishes to see you. He is waiting downstairs.”

“Duke Hart?”

That question came not from Lumina—but from Endymion.

“Why would he visit to see you?”

“You’ll find out when we meet. You’re still a patient, Endymion. Lie down. I’ll be back soon.”

“But—”

He grabbed her.

“It may be dangerous.”

“Dangerous?”

“He is a Legion before he is a duke.”

Meaning: don’t forget he could take a life at a whim.

Lumina shrugged.

“You’re not wrong. But if he came to see me and I avoid him, wouldn’t that anger him more?”

“……”

“I’ll handle myself.”

“…Understood. I worried unnecessarily.”

It wasn’t entirely unnecessary, considering Lucius’s terrifying aura.

Reassuring him, Lumina paused as she left.

Have we gotten a little closer?

He worried about her.

For a moment, it felt like the ideal family she had only imagined.

Unable to suppress her rising smile, she beamed.

After changing with the maid’s help, she stepped outside.

The estate was in chaos.

Relatives had gathered in droves upon hearing of such an important visitor.

They fawned over Lucius despite their fear.

“Your Grace, are your legs not tired? Shall we guide you to the drawing room?”

“We never heard that the late Lord and Lady Langschus had ties with you. Might we hear more?”

They were desperate to exchange even a word.

Lucius ignored them all.

Watching them struggle for favor, Lumina realized just how extraordinary a man she had asked to become her guardian.

The problem is he looks like a debt collector even standing still.

She watched from afar—until Lucius turned his head.

Directly toward her.

Oops.

She hurried over.

“Hello, Your Grace! I’m Lumina Langschus, eldest daughter of the Langschus house. I heard you were looking for me.”

“Yes.”

Unfazed by his curt reply, she glanced around innocently.

“That carriage you arrived in is enormous. Do all dukes ride in such grand carriages?”

Behind him stood a long line of wagons.

They were clearly cargo wagons.

“They are gifts.”

“Gifts?”

Her eyes widened.

Surely not all of that?

Outwardly clueless, inwardly she knew.

Everything in those carriages was for her.

Her vulgar, materialistic heart—utterly ignorant of frugality—thumped wildly.

“I was too late for memorial flowers, so I thought I’d bring the kind you like. But you don’t seem to favor any particular flower.”

He had even considered her preferences.

Of course—Lucius had thoroughly investigated her and even her distant relatives.

“So I bought them all.”

She wore an overwhelmed expression—but thought:

Ah. I forgot to tell Endymion.

Her days in the attic were about to end.