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Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.
Only the sound of her pen against the parchment could be heard in the study. Although the silence was uncomfortable, it was Erdan's blazing stare standing from behind that choked Lizzie. She could picture him burning holes through her back.
But still, in her best, she filled the paper with lousy and childish handwriting as she mulled over the tragedy.
It was supposed to be a great day. The incident last night was glossed over by a loud dinner with Garth that evolved swords, how to evade an incoming slice and the best spot to cut the enemies dead.
"Here Silver." He pointed his neck. "Once the veins are cut, the blood will rush. He'll be dead, for sure." And he sliced the steak on precise clean cut. She could even hear the servants on standby, gulp, one even held to her neck.
"But you can also cut their feet so they won't run away. The eyes would be a good target too, you know, if their sight is gone, they'd be good as dead."
Lizzie could not taste her soup. She just wanted to eat, peacefully so. However, Garth who might have a weakness in the art of conversation, casually taught her how to kill a person.
And Lizzie had no choice but to suck it up. "Garthie, did you poke someone's eyes?"
Gasps among servants, but Garth did not mind. He just grinned and forked the meat into his mouth.
'What kind of conversation is this?' she thought.
It must be the normal chat between the Norvillons, but a child of eight included... well, it didn't matter. She's even fanning the flames of his swordsmanship knowledge because it was the only thing that piqued his interest. And when she gets his attention, her Adorable Points would increase.
Garth leaned over and sliced her creamed carrots into smaller pieces. "Err, they're good for your eyesight, I think." He then sliced her portion of steak. Despite a true-blooded swordsman, he was well-versed with the utensils and his manners in dining were impeccable.
"It's nice like this," he exclaimed. "We often eat separately since we do different things. I do eat with Erdan, but he's boring. Wanna have meals together next time?"
Oh, it seems her Adorable Points went up. "Lizzie wants to!"
He grinned. "Then, where were we? Anyway, before you could stab the enemy, the first thing you need to do—"
"Times up." Erdan's voice woke her up. "Were you also spacing out yesterday and fell into the pit? Hewitt told you to wait for him, didn't he? But you roamed, and look what happened. A few scratches, bruises, and a sprain. Now, you have to be carried until you heal."
Lizzie blinked at him, just right after his sermon ended with one breath. All she did was squeak an apology.
She sighed and handed her paper. Erdan is a different case than Garth. To her horror, he was the one waiting for her in the study instead of Butler Hewitt. And to test how far she understood the past lessons, he slapped the test on the desk with a dark smile.
"You are a little better with the Gran Dacchian alphabet for your age. Spelling and grammar too. Arithmetic... oh?" His eyebrows raised. "Well, a little push in division, but the rest were impressive. Have you studied these before?"
"Hewitt taught Lizzie," she said, her neck extending to peek as he marked her paper.
"Well, I'll be..." he mused. "You're not an idiot."
"Lizzie studied well." And I can count up to one million now, you know. She received the paper, frustrated with the red for corrections and Erdan's smug face.
Just you wait, I'll be smarter than you!
"The search for a good tutor is still ongoing. Embroidery and flower arrangements. Etiquette... it's hard to find a good mentor for noble ladies these days. So, how about we try Geography for now while we wait?"
Lizzie did not answer. Lessons about identifying flowers, pouring tea in the right angle of the teapot, and covering her mouth with a fan when smiling—these things won't save her.
"Why the frown, you don't like to study? Unlike Garth, you can't pick up the sword."
"But..."
Is there all to it being dainty and flowers with the high society?
"What do you want, Lizzie?"
"Lizzie wants... Lizzie wants to know what you know!"
She messed up. Erdan could think that she's challenging his intelligence and probably the claim to being the duke's heir. "...And manners too... Lizzie will learn manners," she added in a whisper, looking down on her paper crumpled by her small hands.
She flinched by his villainous chuckle.
I'm sorr—? But it was not the face of someone being threatened. Erdan looked manically fired up, it creeped her out more. "Tell me, little sister, what do you want to learn?"
"Everything," she blurted.
"Accounting, business, medicine, politics, theology, languages, and more. Do you really want to?" He was leaning from across the table, though scheming, his blue eyes sparkled as if it caught blue fire behind the glasses.
Wait, did I strike gold?! her mind screamed. Aside from learning knowledge of survival if ever she'd run away from the Norvillons in the future, she also gained Erdan's interest.
"Yes, Lizzie wants to learn." She flailed her short arms, the sleeves of her dress danced as her arms drew a huge circle in the air. "Teach me lotsa things Erdie, Lizzie will study!"
"Oho. Not bad." He then handed her a new sheet of paper. "Write your promise and sign it."
This—! It's not like it's a valid contract, but she did anyway. She grabbed one of her favorite crayons that were easier to hold than the quill pen and wrote in her clumsy handwriting. As much as she wanted to, her body could not still produce an adult's artistic swirls of letters.
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I promise to study a lot.
Lizzie
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"There are numerous Lizzies in the empire alone."
She clicked her tongue in her head as she wrote her full name, wondering why nobles had to use almost all of the alphabet.
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I promise to study a lot.
Lady Feliziia Gran Dacchia Norvillon
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As revenge, she also handed the paper to Erdan. "You write too. Promise to teach Lizzie."
"Shrewd too, I see." He took the pen and wrote below her signature.
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I, Erdanielle Norvillon, first son of Duke Devanti Norvillon, will uphold the oath to educate my sister, Feliziia Gran Dacchia Norvillon, with my utmost abilities. I shall also assist her education in areas I, or any male, is not adept.
If I fail to do so, I will relinquish my right as the heir. Feliziia Norvillon shall be appointed as the heir to the Norvillon Duchy of the North.
Erdanielle Norvillon
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Her big eyes blinked at Erdan, then to the paper. Oi, there's something strange added here.
"Erdie, what's this?" she pointed to the terrifying condition. She does not need to rule the dukedom, she just wanted to live and eat three meals a day. Honey and cookies could be a bonus too.
Erdan just smiled, miraculously normal, and pinched her cheeks. "Nothing much, don't mind it."
Well, I mind! But she just grinned, satisfied with her harvest of Adorable Points.
"Now, to seal this deal, you have to do one last thing. Permission."
Her smile faltered at the realization.
"Father has no guest for today, why don't we visit him?"
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Erdan, who scares her sometimes became a tame herbivore. They were both in the Duke's office, standing side by side as the Duke read their agreement.
"And you... Erdanielle."
Erdan, despite his dignified posture, had his hands clenched. "Yes... Your Grace?" he responded formally.
"The title is not a joke for you to bargain in this childish contract. Do you belittle the position as to easily give it away?"
"No..." He repeated the answer with a louder voice. "No, Your Grace. Garth has no interest to be the duke, but Lizzie, since she's here now, she has the right to be chosen as the heir as well."
Dude, did you ask me tho?
Erdan's scheming confidence was nowhere found. He just smiled at Lizzie with a trace of sadness. You look weird, she held back the words.
"You are still soft, Erdan. Guilt is a weakness."
Guilt? What. So no one here will explain what's actually happening? What's with this coded conversation?
"You, do you want to become the Grand Duchess?"
Not ever! But Lizzie could not tell him the title could rot in hell. Instead, she pulled Erdan's sleeves. "Erdie, will Lizzie eat more cake if she becomes a duchess?"
"You could say that..."
"And honey?"
"Yes, and honey."
"Well, okay. Lizzie will try to become a duchess."
As if. She'd be long gone then. "Lizzie will do it, Erdie." Just stop looking like a wet puppy. Stop this atmosphere. It's weird.
Now, both of them waited for the duke, who was leaning back on his chair, staring at Lizzie as if she was the most offensive thing in the world. "The same face. The same dream. Ambitious."
Hey, what's that supposed to mean?
But she just smiled, as always. You scum. What have I ever done to you tho?
Then he stamped the paper with the Norvillon seal and signed.
Wait, you're making it official? I haven't added more of my own condition!
She was robbed of words of how things turned out. She just wanted knowledge, not a territory next to a mountain range of monsters.
Man, you're all messed up in the head.
But Lizzie won't go down without a fight. As of now, her confidence lies within the fact that he won't be killed yet.
She let go of Erdan's hand she unknowingly clung to, and circled the desk towards the duke.
For a moment, she faltered with him up close in the daytime. She wondered if her mother accepted the marriage willingly due to his face value. Women would probably chase after him, not mainly for the title. Still in his thirties, faultless with his manners if he wants to and wealthy. Despite his ruthlessness and bone-chilling achievements, his people have food on their table and sleep soundly in their homes. Then his appearance is a huge bonus.
But your terrible personality is all minus.
Sometimes it amazes her to think that this spawn of the devil is her father. The epitome of the saying, 'The prettiest face has the foulest flesh.'
"What?"
Woken up from a daze, Lizzie realized she was looking up at him, face to face now.
"Duke."
"I said what?"
Can I hit you? Just once. "Why Lizzie's name has 'Gran Dacchia' and Erdie has not?"
The silence was deafening. She did understand a little better, especially from the lessons with Hewitt. Nobles will not have a middle name from their mothers unless one's mother was royalty. And if Devanti wanted to keep her maternal blood's a secret from her, why did he give her a name with the inclusion of the Royal family's?
Curiosity has given her courage to even pull the sleeve of his shirt. "Duke, Duke. Why is Lizzie's name different?"
She regretted her sudden bravery and idiocracy when Devanti Norvillon's hand approached her as if death has closed in.
She froze, unable to look away from the violent storm in his eyes. I'm going to die. Even Erdan let out a panicked "Father—"
Then Lizzy's sight was all darkness when he enveloped her small face that fit right into his rough palm, his fingers reaching to her ears. If he wanted to, he could crush her skull.
The loud beat of her heart climbed up to her head, and the pulsating fear conquered Lizzie.
"Small... still so small." He retracted his hand.
I'm still alive. But she could not celebrate. Her question was forgotten. Her knees were weak and before she could fall, she leaned on Devanti's lap. She smiled her damnest and best, and her eyes sparkled, hoping it would blind Devanti Norvillon forever.
"Duke's hand is big! Duke is handsome too!"
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