Sigrid Novel Chapter 45

Marie-Chez was thoroughly enjoying the pleasure of being an acquaintance of a celebrity. With a slight sense of superiority, she thought, 'The Sigrid Ankertna you all want to see so badly is my best friend.'

"Ah, thanks."

Sigrid sighed in relief, her hand on her chest. Lowengrin smiled and said,

"I've received requests too. After all, they can't just send you an invitation out of the blue without any connection, so they want to reach out through soone they know. And when it cos to won close to you, it's just

and Marie."

Lowengrin added,

"To be honest, I might be enjoying it a little too. Anyway, I know you're uncomfortable with such things and don't like them, so I've politely declined on your behalf."

"I see."

Still unable to fully grasp the situation, Sigrid tilted her head.

"But Siri."

Marie-Chez leaned forward. Her navy blue eyes sparkled.

"Are there any good n?"

"Huh?"

"In the 1st Imperial Guard! I've heard various rumors, but I want to hear from soone who's seen them firsthand. Well? Any n worth introducing?"

"Good n......"

Sigrid counted off the n she had t in the 1st Imperial Guard one by one.

"Altar... his swordsmanship is the best, I suppose. He's disciplined. But maybe that makes his patterns easy to read? As for good... as a swordsman, the most balanced one is—"

"No, no, not that. I an as a man! For dating! For marriage!"

Marie-Chez quickly interrupted and corrected Sigrid. Sigrid blinked at the word "marriage" and then crossed her arms, looking serious.

'Marriage? Marriage? With Marie-Chez? Hmmm—'

After groaning and struggling for a while, Sigrid sighed and said,

"Sorry, I'm not sure. I'll let you know after I take a good look next ti."

"Alright."

Marie-Chez nodded, leaning back. Lowengrin said to Marie-Chez,

"You can't just do it like that. You need to tell her what kind of man you like so Siri can properly judge whether they pass or not."

"Ah, first of all, he needs to be rich. It would be good if he's inheriting a title. At least a count or higher would be nice. And I don't like soone who drinks too much. I prefer a diligent person. And soone kind. Of course, looks are important too, but as long as they're above average— I can overlook it."

Sigrid inserted this information into her mind.

'Soone rich... title inheritor... count or higher... Oh, co to think of it.'

"By the way, how's Morris these days?"

Talking about title inheritance reminded her of him. Sigrid continued,

"I sent a letter to Morris, but there's been no reply."

"Ah—"

At those words, Lowengrin and Marie-Chez looked at each other and said,

"Morris has gone back to his family ho."

"I heard his father is very ill."

"They say he'll be going down to the estate soon."

As the two alternated speaking, Sigrid's eyes widened in surprise.

"Is he seriously ill? Why is he going down to the estate? Wouldn't it be easier to find a healer in the capital?"

Lowengrin shook her head and said,

"When even healers can't help, people usually want to pass away in their hotown."

"It's difficult to hold a funeral in the capital too. They want to be with their ancestors in their hotown."

Marie-Chez added.

"Then it's quite a serious situation... Why didn't he tell ?"

Sigrid's face fell. Lowengrin patted the back of Sigrid's hand and said,

"You've been busy lately, right? Getting promoted and settling in. He probably didn't have the presence of mind to contact you about such things."

"Would it be alright if I visit?"

To Sigrid's question, Lowengrin thought for a mont and then nodded.

"Yes, that should be fine."

"He's probably under a lot of stress in that mansion."

Marie-Chez added.

"But contact him by letter first. I'll give you the address of Morris's family ho."

Lowengrin advised, and Sigrid nodded.

'I'll send a letter as soon as I get ho, and visit as soon as possible.'

While she was at it, Sigrid decided to ask about another person.

"What about Alkerto? Are you two still...?"

Marie-Chez shook her head vigorously.

"No, we're talking now."

"Really? That's great."

"Yes."

Marie-Chez smiled brightly. Sigrid sighed in relief. Marie-Chez continued,

"It's all thanks to you, Siri. I'll treat you big ti later."

"No, it's enough that you two made up."

"No, it wouldn't have been possible without you. Look forward to it."

Marie-Chez said, wagging her finger. If anything, having overco a hurdle seed to have brought her closer to Alkerto. She felt like she had grown a bit too.

Sigrid insisted it was fine, but Marie-Chez's determination remained unchanged. With Lowengrin's encouragent, Sigrid finally ended the conversation with, "I'll look forward to it."

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The Deforest mansion was quiet.

It was natural for the atmosphere to be depressed with the master of the house ill. But it wasn't just that; the air was filled with a tense anticipation. The mood was explosive.

Viscount Deforest's breathing was labored. His face, covered with dark spots, was pale. His raspy breathing echoed clearly in the quiet room.

"Morris......"

As the Viscount raised his fingertips, Morris quickly approached and took his father's hand. The Viscount lifted his hazy eyes and asked,

"Won't you reconsider......?"

At those words, Morris bowed his head with a pained expression.

"Brother will do well."

"Do well? He'll squander the family fortune!"

After speaking vehently, the Viscount started coughing again. Morris rubbed his back and said,

"Father, please calm down. Brother is a reliable person. Such things won't happen."

"Cough, hack, if only you were the firstborn, cough—"

'That's hurtful to both

and brother,' Morris thought, but he couldn't say that to his father facing death. Morris had warm water brought and helped his father drink it, then rose from his seat.

Leaving the nursing to his mother, he quietly left the room, only to find his brother waiting outside the door.

Amis, shorter than Morris, looked up at him and said,

"I will never hand over the title to you."

Feeling a kind of fatigue at the obsession and hatred in his words, Morris reflexively defended himself.

"I've never wanted it."

"You always pretend to be nice and gain people's favor, but you can't fool my eyes."

"Brother."

"Don't call

that!"

"We can't sever our blood ties. You are my brother. What do I need to do for you to believe that I don't want the title?"

"Stop pretending to be nice."

Morris was dumbfounded. Amis continued,

"Acting like a victim, gaining everyone's sympathy."

At Amis's words, Morris took a deep breath and said,

"I understand. No matter what I do, you'll interpret it as you wish. That's fine. I'm always ready to talk with you, and I'll say it again, I don't want the Viscount title. If I wanted it, I'd earn it myself. I don't think a noble title equals happiness. Of course, if I say this, Alkerto would say it's the happy talk of a noble—"

He chuckled and shrugged.

"I've done nothing wrong to you, so I won't bow down to you anymore."

With that, Morris turned on his heel. He heard Amis fuming behind him but ignored it. Returning to his room, Morris threw himself on the bed.

He rubbed his face with both hands and thought,

'I'm tired.'

His dying father urging him to inherit the title, his brother swearing never to hand it over, his mother just watching helplessly, the servants walking on eggshells.

His opinion was nowhere to be found.

He was sick of everyone around him pushing their agendas while completely ignoring his thoughts and will. He reached out and picked up the letter on the bedside table.

Neat handwriting on thin paper.

It wasn't the flowery script won often used, but easily readable letters. The signature 'Sigrid Ankertna' was also in clear print, not cursive.

'She's coming tomorrow.'

After checking the date once more, Morris sighed. The prospect of talking to soone who would at least listen to him felt like an escape.

The next day, the mansion showed a bit of liveliness.

Even though it was just a visitor, it was soone who could be called the most famous person in the imperial capital right now.

For an Aura user, a title was as good as promised. The imperial family valued them highly to prevent their power from leaking outside.

The birth of a new Master was always a topic of conversation, and this one was a woman?

Naturally, it had to be the center of gossip in the capital. Such a person visiting the tense Deforest mansion as Morris's guest was bound to attract attention.

Of course, Sigrid herself had no such thoughts. Her concern was,

'Is it appropriate to bring a gift when visiting during a difficult ti? Or not?'

That was about it.

When Sigrid arrived at the mansion on the day, she was surprised to find Amis greeting her instead of Morris.

"Hello, Lady Ankertna. I've heard much about your reputation."

"Yes, hello."

Sigrid returned the greeting politely. He smiled and said,

"I regret we couldn't talk more when we t last ti."

"Is that so?"

"Haha, of course."

Amis laughed heartily. Sigrid looked at him for a mont and then asked,

"When will Morris be out?"

"It seems he's taking so ti to prepare. I apologize for keeping you waiting, Lady Ankertna. Father spoiled him too much, so he has no manners."

"If Morris is late, he must have his reasons. I'll wait then."

At Sigrid's words, Amis frowned for a mont before smiling again and saying,

"It looks like you'll have to wait a while. In the anti, let

keep you company."

"No, that's alright. You must be busy, there's no need to entertain ."

It was a firm rejection. Amis's face reddened.

"Sigrid—!"

At that mont, Morris hurried into the reception room. He hadn't even buttoned his jacket yet. He saw Amis and stiffened, giving a slight bow.

"Brother."

"Quite the guest you have."

Amis said that and left. Morris buttoned his jacket and said,

"Sorry I'm late. The news ca late."

"No, it's fine."

Sigrid shrugged as she answered. Morris looked around the reception room for a mont and asked,

"Shall we go to my room?"

"Sure."

Sigrid nodded, and Morris led her to his room, telling a maid to prepare tea. Only after entering the inner room did Sigrid take off her winter gear.

Riding a horse in winter ant she had to dress warmly. Even so, her fingers were still numb, and Sigrid flexed her hands a few tis.

There are no fools who wage war in winter. But,

'Magical beasts don't care about such things.'

Sigrid swallowed a sigh. Morris seated Sigrid by the fireplace.

"It's quite cold outside, isn't it?"

"No, it's not that cold yet. It'll get really cold in about a month."

Sigrid replied, and Morris nodded. The start of the real cold in the capital was synonymous with the start of the New Year's etings.

"They even say 'The New Year's etings are cursed with cold,'" Morris said jokingly.

Sigrid chuckled and stretched her legs towards the fireplace. Today, she had her hair braided down instead of up.

"If my brother said anything rude, I apologize," Morris said as he sat in the chair opposite her.

Sigrid frowned and said, "I don't mind if he's rude to , but I can't stand him badmouthing you."

At those words, Morris couldn't help but smile.

"What did he say?"

"That you have no manners because you were spoiled. If you have no manners, Morris, then I must be a complete delinquent."

Sigrid said with a serious face, making him laugh again. Sigrid straightened up and asked,

"How is your father? Is he alright?"

Morris's face darkened at her question.

"No, the situation is serious. I think we'll be going down to the estate within this week. We need to move while he still has so strength left."

"Where is your estate, Morris?"

"Yarel. It's a small estate in the eastern part of the capital region."

"Morris of Yarel, then."

At those words, Morris smiled slightly, then sighed and said,

"So it would be better to move quickly, but he's being stubborn."

"He doesn't want to go down?"

"He says he'll die in peace only if I agree to inherit the title."

"Can you inherit the title just because you say you will? According to imperial law, the eldest son inherits first, right?"

"That's right," Morris answered in a dull voice.

"Unless there's so major flaw or problem with the eldest son."

"Is he telling you to kill your brother or sothing?"

Morris felt refreshed by Sigrid's blunt question.

"Who knows? Maybe? Or perhaps he wants

to join hands with everyone and prove that my brother is ntally unfit."

"That's quite sothing."

Morris laughed at Sigrid's amazent. Strangely, he found it funny.

"Yes, it is quite sothing."

"But you don't want that, right? Haven't you tried telling him?"

"He won't even listen to ."

"Inciting strife between children, what a criminal mastermind. Viscount Deforest is quite sothing else."

Sigrid understood why Morris had beco a wandering knight.