Prologue | The Assassin Gains a New Family Member
I woke up when morning arrived. I felt something warm on my left arm and turned to face it.
“No, my lord, shtoooop iiit…”
Tarte was hugging my arm and talking in her sleep.
Tarte was fourteen years old, had soft blond hair, and possessed a developed figure for her age. When she was younger, she had been abandoned by her family and left for dead in the mountains. The resulting trauma gave her occasional anxiety attacks. When it became too much for her to bear, I allowed her to sleep with me.
It’s well known that the warmth of another person can give you a sense of ease.
“What in the world is she dreaming about?”
Looking at Tarte’s happy sleeping face put me in a good mood.
Lately, we’d been sharing the same bed more often. I was worried that Tarte wasn’t doing well mentally, but then I realized she was just making excuses to spend more time with me. I should’ve chided her, but I didn’t see much harm in it.
She’s doing her very best for me, and she worked exceptionally hard yesterday. I can let her have this.
“Tarte, wake up.”
I pushed aside the temptation to watch her sleeping face and shook her shoulders. If she didn’t awaken soon, she’d be late preparing breakfast.
Tarte’s eyes lazily flitted open. She released my left arm and sat up.
“My lord, I love you shooo muuuch…,” she said in a slurred voice as she leaned over to hug me.
I couldn’t help but recognize her well-developed body through her thin nightgown. She nuzzled her cheeks into my chest as I attempted to move away.
“I know you love me, but would you mind letting go?”
“Come ooooon, it’sh fine. What’sh thish compared to what we did earlier…?”
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“It was like a dream, you— Owww!”
I pinched Tarte’s cheek, and her eyes teared up.
“Tarte, it’s time to wake up!”
“Wh-what—huh? W-was that just a dream?”
“Good morning, Tarte.”
“Ah, uhhhhhh, my lord, that was, um… Eeeek!”
Tarte flushed deep red, pulled away, and rolled over until she fell out of bed.
Evidently, Tarte thought she’d done something quite embarrassing.
“Um, that wasn’t what it looked like. I was just…”
“Don’t worry about it. You were still half-asleep. But forget about that—look at the time.”
“…Ah, I need to hurry!”
Tarte’s face went from crimson to pale. She opened my closet and took out her servant clothes. I turned my back to her, and she began to change. Tarte had started storing some of her clothes in my closet after we began using the same bed.
“O-okay, I’ll go make breakfast! I’ll apologize for what I did this morning later, my lord!” Rotating back around, I saw that Tarte was now dressed in her maid outfit. After bowing, she beat a hasty retreat.
“This is the first time Tarte has had that much trouble getting up.”
Usually, she was a morning person. Perhaps all the excitement the other day had left her exhausted. She’d really pushed herself to help me on my quest to save Dia. During my absence, she’d refused to sleep.
I wasn’t tired, but that wasn’t to say I didn’t experience my own sort of problem.
“Man, the reasoning and bodily instincts of a young man truly can turn you into a different creature altogether.”
I sighed. Being hugged by Tarte during the height of puberty while she was wearing a thin nightgown was poison. The sexual appetite of the fourteen-year-old was not to be underestimated.
My body had a habit of responding prominently, and I could feel that desire welling up inside me right now.
…I’m her teacher, and I’m like a father and an older brother to her. I need to be more careful.
I headed for the living room at the usual time. My parents and Dia were already at the table when I walked in.
“Good morning, Lugh. Look, I gave Dia my old clothes. Don’t they look good on her?”
“They look lovely. White suits you, Dia.”
Dia was wearing a thin, alabaster summer dress. It matched her white skin and silver hair excellently.
“Thanks, but I feel a little embarrassed wearing this. It’s been a while since I’ve worn something so girly.”
“Hmm-hmm-hmm, I knew my clothes would be a perfect fit for you, Dia. Tarte’s a little too short, but it’s her large chest that really makes her a difficult dress-up doll… Ahem. It’s too bad I can’t play with her, too.”
“Don’t you make clothes, Mother? You enjoy making revealing clothing, as I recall,” Dia remarked.
“Making clothes from scratch requires a lot of trial and error! You’re much easier. I can put you in any of my old outfits that I want!”
My mom liked Tarte and had recently been sewing different accoutrements for her.
“Hey, Lugh. Who is Tarte?” Dia asked with a stiff expression.
“She’s my retainer, apprentice, and assistant. She shows real talent and has a strong work ethic. When I came to save you, she did everything she could to help. Speak of the devil, here she is.”
Tarte walked in from the kitchen to set the table. She started by giving everyone their drinks. Today we had freshly blended apple juice.
“This is Tarte,” I announced.
“Ah, that’s right, you two haven’t met yet. Tarte, introduce yourself to Dia,” instructed my dad.
“O-okay. I am Lord Lugh’s adherent. My name is Tarte.”
“I’m Dia; nice to meet you. And thanks.”
“I-it was nothing. I only did what was expected of me as his retainer.”
“Hmm, you like Lugh, don’t you?”
“Huh? N-no, I really respect him, and I love him, but not in that way,” Tarte quickly stammered out, clearly flustered. Dia remained composed.
“You don’t have to hide it from me. Lugh is a nobleman, after all. Having a few mistresses is to be expected.” Dia, being a noble, understood that sort of thing well.
A single wife was a risky choice for an aristocrat. If that woman couldn’t produce an heir, the lineage would die out. Even if a child was born, there was no guarantee they would live to see adulthood. Among the gentry, having multiple wives and heirs was just common sense.
“Th-that’s not necessary. Being by my lord’s side is enough for me.”
“You must care deeply for him. Lugh is a lucky guy, being adored by such a cute girl,” Dia said.
“Not a day goes by that I’m not thankful for Tarte,” I admitted.
“Huh?! I-I’ll get the food. Excuse me!” Tarte blushed and ran back to the kitchen.
Dia’s brow furrowed as she watched the other girl leave. After a moment, she turned to face my dad.
“Cian and Lugh, thank you for lending House Viekone the power of House Tuatha Dé. I’m afraid I was brought here with naught but the clothes on my back, so this is all I can offer. I hope it will suffice.”
Dia extended a hand toward my dad. Sitting atop her palm was a ring fitted with a large gem.
…Dia talked the gift down, but the ring looked like it could’ve been a national treasure. Selling it surely would’ve earned you enough money that you, your children, and your grandchildren never would’ve had to work a day in your lives. That little thing was the epitome of priceless.
“We can’t accept this. It’s a memento from your mother, right? You don’t need to give us anything. Count Viekone has already done enough for me. Also, Lugh is the one who acted, not I. He says he was just fulfilling a promise he had made to you,” my dad replied.
“I understand. Perhaps you’ll accept it as a payment for my lessons, then?” Dia once again offered the invaluable band.
“What do you mean?” asked my dad.
“Please teach me how to be an assassin. I need the knowledge of House Tuatha Dé. I’m great at magic, but I know now that’s not enough. So please.”
All the recent trouble at Dia’s family estate had probably forced her to realize her own helplessness. As the daughter of a count, Dia did receive basic combat training. That wasn’t enough for her anymore, though. She wanted the skills and knowledge only the Tuatha Dé clan of assassins was privy to. Undoubtedly, she hoped to help her father. The man had been forced into hiding as he built up strength.
“The skills of the Tuatha Dé clan are usually only entrusted to direct descendants. I see no problem making something of an exception, however. You’re being made my daughter, after all. Let’s talk about this after breakfast. The soup our adorable retainer is making for us is going to go cold.”
As if on command, Tarte brought bowls into the room. She’d made fish soup, and its delicious smell wafted toward us as she set our dishes on the table.
“I second that,” I added. “I want to enjoy Tarte’s delicious cooking to the fullest.”
“Okay. We’ll save the matter for after our meal,” Dia agreed.
We planned to finish breakfast, and then my dad would talk with Dia about becoming my little sister. Once that was settled, we’d handle everything else.
Five years ago, in the Alvanian Kingdom, a new experiment had begun. It aimed to bring together young mages all across the country to foster friendship and competition. One of the reasons Dia was being made my little sister was to go with me to that place.
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