Chapter 2: The Transferor

The sound of crying echoes.

Unlike the Grand Duke’s first impression, which remains firmly fixed in my mind even now, he must have been a figure of considerable popularity.

It’s certainly true, judging by the sounds of people trying hard to stifle their tears coming from here and there.

Yes, the sound of crying.

Sniffling sounds resonated within the vast church, taking shelter under the umbrella of the clergyman’s words.

A funeral.

The question ‘Whose?’ is obviously unnecessary.

“………”

The Grand Duke’s, of course.

As the Cardinal’s eulogy drifts through the air, the eyes of those presumably wet with sorrow naturally fall upon the deceased’s children.

Being well aware of this fact, I wouldn’t even dare to brush it off with my usual smile.

Staring blankly, with an expression steeped in loss, I glanced at my brother; he wore a similar expression.

Had the Grand Duke, despite his gruffness, taken good care of him?

Well, I wasn’t particularly interested, so I don’t know the details clearly.

The Cardinal’s words ring out sharply.

He wasn’t someone to go like this; he was too great a man to depart so emptily—the standard phrases of a memorial service.

Among those meaningless words, the point worth noting is that he wasn’t the type of person to die so suddenly.

This is even more certain considering the Weiss Grand Ducal family was famous for the outstanding martial prowess of its successive heads, and that this particular Grand Duke Weiss had reached a very high level of mastery with the sword.

Considering his last outing was merely a light inspection of the duchy, something like ‘annihilation by a monster wave’ couldn’t possibly be the cause of death.

Even if the body and traces were clear, how could the leader of the North, where battle is commonplace, be defeated so easily?

It’s not difficult to deduce, without much thought, that there’s some hidden truth.

How it happened, though, would require a bit more thinking to figure out.

However, it’s not my job.

The person who needs to resolve this from now on is not me, but my brother, the heir to the family.

As for me, holding no significant position within the Grand Ducal family, I’ve merely ended up in a situation where my treatment must now be entrusted to my brother instead of the Grand Duke.

Therefore, I feel little emotion about it.

He wasn’t exactly an important person in my life, just someone I exchanged a few words with occasionally.

Rather, from the perspective of a child who, through circumstance, has lost a father three times—forcibly becoming worse than Lü Bu—it’s simply bewildering.

However, despite this self-awareness, despite the indolence simmering within me, I was still, on the surface, the Grand Duke’s adopted daughter.

So, I simply wore the same expression as my brother and quietly let a few teardrops fall.

Ordinarily, the fallen drops might have hardened the ground further, but in this frigid North, they only served to solidify the winter that showed no sign of relenting.

Such time passed, with only the chilly gathering clouds promising to unleash their sorrow on the anniversary of his death.

***

“…must be great… the Grand Duchess also…”

The Cardinal is speaking about something with my brother, who suddenly finds himself in a similar, yet unlike me, inescapable situation.

If I strained my ears, I might faintly hear it, but seeing no particular reason to, I keep my head bowed and close my ears.

It might be comforting words that could sound similar to me, who lacks a mother, but there must be some difference between losing them sequentially like him and losing two at once like me.

In that sense, I do indeed question the necessity of my presence here.

Well, approaching it from a human emotional standpoint, even between an adopted and a biological child, sharing and comforting sorrow could be considered a wise measure…

Still, I wonder.

It’s not like I’m an expert on such matters either—

“And, Lady Eleonora?”

“…Yes, Your Eminence the Cardinal.”

He had abruptly shifted the conversation’s subject to me, and his gaze had already moved to rest before me.

Lifting my previously bowed head, I subtly adjusted my expression once more.

In truth, my standing here in the office the Grand Duke used, holding onto one arm, is largely due to this man’s request.

In a world where the existence of God is proven through divine power, it was natural that a duchy’s princess—an adopted one at that—could not ignore a Cardinal’s words.

“…Why must such harsh trials befall such a frail young lady, huff…”

From the listener’s perspective, it only elicited a dry laugh, but the Cardinal before me seems to think that way.

Certainly, an underage girl whose biological and adoptive parents have both died is uncommon.

It’s a position that might warrant pity even from someone other than a clergyman.

I wonder if constantly hearing baseless words from someone who isn’t there makes one feel unnecessarily melancholic, but perhaps if the person hearing the baseless words isn’t the one who’s gone, it’s not something to be melancholic about.

“…It’s alright, Your Eminence. If you have something to say, please do. Though my body is frail, my heart does not yield so easily.”

Bringing a hand to the area around my eyes, reddened by the tears I shed earlier, I presented an appearance that would earn me an assessment of being reasonably mature.

This should be enough for the Cardinal to be moderately satisfied and move on.

“…You are brave. I cannot fathom your sorrow, but I pray that the young lady endures. The young Grand Duke must also be greatly heartbroken, but it must be the same for Lady Eleonora.

Especially when I heard the news about Count Schwartz—”

…It would be nice if he just got to the point.

Perhaps as one ages, not only experience but also unspoken words accumulate; most elderly people were long-winded.

It reminded me that the Grand Duke was actually quite young.

No, perhaps he would have been taciturn even in old age.

Then that would be proof that the Cardinal has always been like this.

Pretending to listen appropriately while slightly blurring my focus, I see my brother, who is now looking my way.

Unlike the sullen expression he’s been showing lately, he’s surprisingly wearing a face he occasionally made in the past.

An expression ill-suited for a child that he sometimes wore—eyes lowered, lips slightly bitten—he looks at me with that inscrutable face.

Come to think of it, the Grand Duke also made that expression sometimes.

Since it was a face I usually saw only when I was taking my medicine, it’s hard to call it a consistent expression, and it doesn’t seem particularly relevant to the current situation.

Is it some kind of father-son genetic trait, a habit, perhaps?

If it were sorrow, I doubt he’d look at me with that expression; if it were anger, I’ve never depleted the family’s assets beyond the cost of my minor medications.

Pondering it, well, I really don’t know.

While I might excel in other areas, reading people’s emotions isn’t my forte.

Has empathy ever been my strength? Perhaps in other fields, but not this one.

My brother, wearing that subtle expression, soon turned his head as if nothing happened and slowly exited the office.

I considered giving him a nod, but it seemed likely to hinder smooth communication with the Cardinal before me, so I decided to just let him go.

“—Therefore, although Lady Eleonora’s grief must also be immense… I earnestly request that you undertake a certain role.”

Finally, the main point. It took him long enough to get here.

“…A role, you say.”

“I do not know if you are aware, but the Weiss Grand Duchy has a ritual that the heir must undergo.”

Hearing this much, I can roughly guess what he wants to say.

“You mean the Sword Seat Succession Ceremony.”

“You know of it. Yes, normally, when the position of family head is vacant, the eldest senior of the Weiss family should preside, but because the previous Grand Duke and his wife also passed away early, there is no one to take the role of the transferor.”

It’s originally a ritual performed by the family head to designate an heir, but now, there’s no family head or anything of the sort.

Besides, with effectively only one candidate for heir, well, that says it all.

“The collateral branches of the family are also located quite far away, so even if we contact them now… it would take a long time for them to visit, making that option difficult as well.”

Given the local characteristic of not particularly discriminating based on gender, normally, an adopted daughter could also be a candidate for heir.

However, as you can roughly guess from the name ‘Sword Seat’ (Geomjwa) being used instead of titles like ‘Jade Seal’ (Oksae) or ‘Ducal Throne’ (Gongwangwi) in a ceremony deciding a nation’s heir, the position of the Weiss Grand Duchy’s heir is not just for anyone.

“The fortunate thing is that a small amount of blood used for baptism remains from when the Grand Duke visited our cathedral last time. Therefore, if someone would just take on the role of the transferor…”

The Sword Seat Succession Ceremony is a ritual where a renowned sword, known as the Sword Seat (Geomjwa), personally selects the most suitable candidate for the next Ducal throne from among the potential heirs.

Naturally, given the duchy’s emphasis on personal martial prowess, it was common sense that the heir must also be skilled with a sword.

“…I know it is truly rude to say this, but Lady Eleonora, you are, well… huff.”

Therefore, there was never any possibility of me becoming the family head.

I was a girl with a frail appearance, doubtful if I could even lift a sword, let alone wield it, and that was indeed the reality.

Even if that renowned sword is said to comprehensively assess various qualities and potential beyond mere swordsmanship, it’s an impossible notion.

Even if Eleonora Weiss, whose only experience with blades in this life was forks and knives, was actually born with the potential of a world-shaking swordmaster, it was obvious she couldn’t wield it properly due to her frail constitution.

“Rude? In this situation, isn’t it a role I should naturally undertake?”

Seeing the Cardinal unable to easily open his mouth as if the words themselves meant something significant, I couldn’t stand the frustration and said what he was trying to convey instead.

“…I understand Lady Eleonora’s sentiment, but taking on the role of the transferor means—.”

Why is this person so full of hypocrisy?

If he’s going to act like that, it would be better if his words were at least quick, but being this sluggish…

“It means the treatment I receive henceforth will not be that of the Grand Duke’s legitimate daughter, but rather that of a Weiss family elder, or perhaps a senior member. It’s not that I fail to understand the situation.”

At first glance, it might seem like a rise in status, but in reality, it’s something any ordinary young lady would despise.

Given the customs of this world where status and position are primary considerations in marriage, the spouses arranged for a family’s young lady and a family elder were markedly different, making it hard to appreciate the change.

While the marriage proposals coming to a young lady might involve relatively age-appropriate, fresh young men, the proposals received as the sister of the head would primarily be for the role of a second wife.

So, if the former is a contract marriage that at least looks decent, the latter could be described, image-wise, as akin to a forced marriage to an old man.

Even if she were matched with another young heir, it was highly likely they would be someone whose engagement was broken due to problems nine times out of ten.

“Knowing all that… you can still make such a decision?”

Of course, as Eleonora Weiss, there is a way to circumvent this.

She simply needed not to take on the role of transferor.

“…Although this old man has had a long connection with the Weiss family, I do not wish to ruin a young lady’s future because of it.”

My previous identity was Eleonora Schwartz, and once I reach adulthood in a year, I could potentially reclaim the rights to the Schwartz County territory, which the Grand Duke Weiss had been managing.

Becoming the transferor inherently means remaining a member of the Weiss family, so simply abandoning the Weiss surname would have been a better choice for me as a young lady.

“Earlier, I sought permission from the young Grand Duke regarding this matter. Since the young Grand Duke consented, if Lady Eleonora is willing, I can assist you.”

However, belying the Cardinal’s earnest efforts in flapping his lips.

“There is no need to force yourself to do something you do not wish for. What you truly desire—”

I, not being an ordinary young lady, simply lifted my head and added a slight smile to my face.

“Work, that… huff, huff. Is that, Lady Eleonora’s choice…”

However, unlike usual, I mix in a slight unnaturalness.

Combined with the still-present redness around my eyes that hadn’t faded, this should serve as an excellent expression of my intent.

If I were to roughly name the expression, it might be something like, ‘A young lady who has resolutely decided something despite deep sorrow.’

As the Cardinal finally closed his talkative mouth and bit his lip, I lowered my eyes and began offering a suitable excuse.

“…Although I was born a Schwartz, I am already indebted to the Weiss family. Simply continuing to live like this is already a luxury; can I just discard that debt because the one I owe it to is no longer in this world? My conscience would not allow it.”

The very act of saying this proved my lack of conscience, but there’s no better excuse.

Excuses like repaying kindness or avenging wrongs stir people’s hearts like nothing else—a fact sufficiently proven by my education and experiences so far.

“At the very least, shouldn’t I avoid causing trouble for my brother? I express my gratitude for the Cardinal’s efforts, but regrettably, I cannot accept that proposal.”

So, I hope he just lets it go.

From my perspective, it doesn’t really matter who my marriage partner is, and if I really don’t like them, I can just mention ‘that fact’.

In fact, inheriting the Schwartz County territory itself would be more troublesome and burdensome for me.

From the standpoint of wanting to just drop everything and quietly kill time, everything the Cardinal offers out of supposed goodwill is nothing but hypocrisy.

He might be like an angel to a regular young lady, but I certainly wasn’t one.

“…Is, is that so. You have made a difficult, decision. Even in such, such a harsh situation…”

As liquid threatened to fall from the eyes of the Cardinal, whose emotions seemed to have heightened with age, I instinctively sensed trouble and grabbed my cane.

“Excuse me, but my time for taking medicine is approaching, so I must take my leave now. I ask for your understanding that it is difficult to converse further, and I hope you have a safe return.”

“…Excuse you? It is this old man who has imposed. Please, may Lady Eleonora’s path ahead be filled with blessings.”

Leaving behind the Cardinal who was dabbing his eyes and clenching his lips, I carefully moved my steps, leaning on my cane.

If he tried to hold me back further, I seriously considered faking a cough—but fortunately, the Cardinal seemed disinclined to detain me longer.

“…Phew.”

Feeling that things were finally somewhat settled, I let out a small sigh and rubbed my ears, which had endured the long rambling.

Perhaps it was my imagination, or maybe I didn’t see it clearly, but even though the window wasn’t open, the curtain fluttered once as if lifting itself before settling back down.

Probably just my vision blurring because it’s almost time for my medicine—I thought, continuing on my way.