I Was Reincarnated as the Prince in a Villainess Story, so I’ll Use My Cheat Knowledge to Create a Noble Lady Harem and Make Them All Happy - 32

Chapter 32: The Heavy Road to the Royal Capital

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The door to the reception room opened, and Margrave and Margravine Everett entered. The Margrave’s complexion was pale, like the sky before dawn, and the Margravine’s fingertips trembled, cold as fine porcelain teacups. Reina and Milia rose and pulled out chairs.

“Your Highness.”

Margrave Everett bowed deeply. Before he could rise, Feril gently placed her hand on the Margravine’s elbow. 

“Mother, please—this way.” 

She softly guided her to a seat, then reached for the pitcher herself, filled a cup, and offered it. Her gaze toward her father, cloaked in exhaustion, was calm—only the quiet light of concern shone in her eyes. Valis nodded and placed a sealed green journal on the desk. The metal fittings glimmered faintly, tightening the air in the room.

“I will tell you what we’ve learned.”

He chose his words carefully, one by one.

“According to this journal, within Silva Haruna stands the World Tree, and its preservation depended on a being called the Divine Maiden Sylpharia, who was bound to an ‘elemental spirit’ known as Amon. The first Margrave Everett, Laurel, bore a child with that Sylpharia and that child became your father, the late Margrave Everett.”

The Margravine gasped softly. The Margrave pressed his lips together, forgetting even to nod.

“After giving birth, Sylpharia lost the immortality granted to her as a Divine Child and aged rapidly. Before death, she chose to merge herself with the World Tree to circulate her spiritual power, though the journal uses the word “assimilation.”

Reina’s gaze fell upon the journal. Milia folded her hands before her chest in a small, prayer-like gesture.

“It is also written that Amon’s power could be inherited through blood, but Sylpharia somehow suppressed that inheritance. However, the inheritance has taken place in Feril.”

At that moment, the air in the room seemed to rise with Reina’s temperature. Yet Feril did not waver. Her gaze met Reina’s hands, and she quietly placed her own over them.

“Furthermore, when such an inheritance occurs, the old keystone can no longer serve its purpose. It may require a new one. The journal suggests as much.”

When he finished speaking, silence fell. Time hung over the room like thin rain clouds, until it was broken by the Margravine’s small exhale.

“What… What a dreadful thing…”

Her hands tensed on her knees. At once, the Margrave placed his hand over hers and whispered.

“It’s all right.” 

In his voice was both the tenderness of a husband and the resolve of a head of house. Reina and Milia moved to Feril’s side. Reina wrapped an arm around her shoulder, while Milia took her fingers in her lap. But Feril was the first to squeeze their hands in return and smiled. 

“You two shouldn’t push yourselves, either.”

That smile was not one meant to hide worry. It was shaped to ease the hearts of others.

“We still don’t know what is truly happening with the World Tree.” 

Valis continued.

“It’s been about ten years since Feril first became aware of her power. We can’t yet tell how much time lag there is, but Alveria must consider how to respond.”

His words settled like a heavy weight. Fire lit in Reina’s eyes.

“How to respond…?!”

Her voice, one she had never directed at Valis before, rang sharply.

“Of course, we cannot allow Feril to be sacrificed! There’s nothing to even consider!”

The chair creaked faintly as Reina’s voice shook the air of the room. Milia gently stroked Feril’s back. Feril cupped Reina’s hands in both of hers. 

“Nee-sama, calm down… It’s all right.”

“Calm yourself, Reina.” 

Valis said quietly—not stern, but steady.

“This could become a matter of life and death to the elves as well. Furthermore, we do not know what kind of discussions Laurel once held with them. Since the journal was sealed with safeguards, there must have been intent behind leaving something that would react to his successor.”

Valis kept his tone deliberately measured, though Reina’s piercing gaze stung.

“In any case, it is dangerous to keep Feril here. This land lies too close to Silva Haruna.”

Reina bit her lip in frustration and slowly bowed her head.

“Please forgive my discourtesy… But I…”

Her words ended there. Feril gently shook her head and rested her forehead on Reina’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Nee-sama.”

Valis turned to face Margrave Everett.

“For these reasons, Margrave Everett, Margravine, and Feril will accompany me to the royal capital. The estate will remain guarded by the royal knights, and security will be reinforced. The green journal will remain sealed under my personal custody.”

“We are deeply grateful for such consideration.”

The Margrave said, bowing deeply before glancing toward the butler. 

“Prepare our things. At once.”

The Margravine started to rise, but the Margrave reached his hand out first. 

“Don’t strain yourself.”

His voice was gentle with concern and Feril stepped between them. 

“Father, I’ll be fine. Please, look after Mother.”

She urged in a small but steady voice. Preparations were swift. The clatter of armor echoed through the corridor, and from afar came the faint metallic chime of harness buckles.

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The carriage rolled down the road toward the royal capital, pushed by winds from the west. Outside the window, the scenery flickered between shadows of trees and dappled sunlight, while the wheels struck the stones in rhythmic measure.

Facing each other, Reina held Feril close, refusing to let go. Milia sat opposite, gently holding Feril’s hand and asking in a whisper now and then.

“Can you drink some water?”

Feril tapped their hands lightly with her fingertips, her tone tender.

“Nee-sama, lean back against the seat… You too, Milia-sama. Please rest a little.”

“What about you, Feril?”

“I’m fine.”

With that gentle reply, Feril’s gaze turned to the opposite seat—to the Margrave and Margravine Everett. The Margrave sat with arms crossed, eyes fixed long upon the passing scenery, occasionally steadying his wife’s shoulder. The Margravine gathered her breath, then nodded quietly. Their gestures of mutual care slowly warmed the air inside the carriage.

Valis closed his eyes and traced the threads of his thoughts. The nobles of Alveria had left an irreparable wound upon the forest people—that fact would not disappear. Then why had they remained silent for a hundred years? If the World Tree’s stability were now faltering, the elves might not hesitate to demand a “new keystone”… Feril.

Seeing the tension stiffen Reina’s arm, Valis felt an ache twist within his chest. Reina knew Valis well. She understood. She understood that Valis was the kind of man who, if it were for the sake of the kingdom, would choose cold reason over compassion—to preserve the greater good. And because she knew that, her gaze became sharp, her arms around Feril unyielding.

And because he could not deny it, guilt sank quietly within him. Valis turned his eyes toward the window and pushed it down with a deep breath.His thoughts turned to his father— King Ars of Alveria. He was in his mid-forties, still in his prime. Domestic governance was left to Valis and the high ministers, while Ars himself traveled the land to hear the voices of his people and deliver judgments where needed.

His popularity among the citizens was unmatched. The reason was simple and unshakable. Ars was not only king but also a warrior renowned across the lands, a ruler who governed through strength. When Valis was young, his father would often laugh and say, “That a rough man like me was blessed with such a clever child…” He never tore books from Valis’s hands, nor forced a sword upon him.

The freedom Valis had to pursue reform came from that steadfast support behind him. Though his father sometimes looked upon his son with quiet sadness, seeing him favor study and magic over the sword, that sense of loss soon turned toward Reina.

To his future daughter-in-law, Ars taught swordsmanship. They became master and pupil. Reina’s weapon of choice was not the slender rapier suited to a woman’s build, but the heavy, unwieldy greatsword—a shadow of Ars’s own influence.

This time, Valis could not decide alone. He would return to the royal capital, place the journal before his father, and seek the kingdom’s judgment. There was no other way. There could be no other way.

Outside the window, heat haze shimmered along the road, and with its wavering, Feril’s shoulders trembled faintly. Reina’s grip tightened around her, and Milia whispered, “It’s all right.”

Feril looked at them both and this time smiled—a smile that truly brought them peace. Valis closed his eyes and formed his thoughts within. As the capital drew closer, the shape of his decision became clearer, and the journal of Laurel lay heavy and silent upon his lap.

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