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I Raised The Heroine Wrong!
Case 49: As jealousy becomes malice.

Case 49: As jealousy becomes malice.

We kept flirting inside the kitchen for a while.

Although I felt bad for Kyrie, nothing could really be done since she was obligated to watch over and protect Rachael. Besides, it did seem that she enjoyed the cake I baked.

''Ah... c-calm down...''

The real obstacle was somehow holding back the beast that was Rachael de La Fayette. She, muck like Penelope, wasn't at all shy about expressing her love through actions. If I didn't pay enough attention, Rachael would immediately snuggle closer to my neck and nibble on it, if not openly kissing all over my face.

It was tickling at first, but I got used to it over time. Still, wouldn't it be inappropriate to do this in front of someone else...? But it looked as though neither the princess nor her maid cared about that.

''Wait, no—''

Nonetheless, anything beyond that was the limit. So, when Rachael's naughty hand touched my chest, I slightly jerked back. Fortunately, before my partner could complain with those furrowed brows of hers, the door flung open.

''Big sis.''

Even though I never asked for it, my precious little sister had come to save me, holding a plate of castella in her hand.

''Lyra...?''

The now young lady silently scanned the room. For a moment, I thought she frowned at the sight of Rachael and me hugging, but the heroine was just her usual stoic self. As she approached us, a chubby little dragon also trotted into the room, guided by the scent of cakes.

''What happened to your lesson, Lyra?'' I ask amidst the strange tension between Lyra and Rachael. ''Where's Mary...?''

''...It's fine, so feed me.''

The only response I got was a casual brush-off, and soon after, I was handed a fork by none other than Lyra. My mouth opened, but I couldn't find any word when looking at her stubborn gaze.

It was strangely childish—like a kid demanding toys—yet somehow immensely desperate.

Unable to refuse, I carefully took the fork, cut a piece of the cake, and put it inside my little sister's mouth. Of course, she ate it without changing her expression.

''Is it good?'' I nervously asked.

''Mhm.''

A nod. That was it.

She didn't follow that up with anything, but I had a feeling she wanted me to feed her the entire cake. That would take a while, though, so should I have her seated...

''Little sister.''

Right then, a slightly husky voice interfered in the silence. Without an ounce of hesitation, Rachael took the fork in my hand before putting it back onto Lyra's plate,

''You can ask her after I leave. Patience can smooth most things out.'' She softly remarked, keeping her hand on my hip.

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''I only have one sister.'' The little heroine replied, clearly irked. ''And she's my sister, so don't tell me what not to ask.''

''...Lyra de Orleans. I respect you as Cecilia's sister, but don't expect me to tolerate this kind of blasphemy toward the imperial family any further.''

''...''

Wait, no. How did it become this in such a short time?! Why were you guys fighting in the first place??

Since neither of them wanted to yield, and the situation seemed as though it would just keep escalating, I decided not to sit dumbly in place any longer.

''That's it. Stop fighting.''

'''' ... ''''

''Lyra, don't be so disrespectful to Her Highness. Sit down first.''

Like a squirrel, Lyra's cheeks inflated a bit, but she quickly flopped onto my lap anyway. When I turned to Rachael with an apologetic smile, the princess thankfully nodded in understanding, even if she clearly wasn't thrilled.

From then on, I had no choice but to keep Rachael at bay and feed Lyra at the same time.

Was this how it would look like if I ever lived long enough to become a mother?

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''I'm sorry, Rachael. Lyra's just... like that.''

''I don't mind, but aren't you spoiling her too much?''

''That...''

It turned out that the cheeky heroine had poor Mary taking notes for her while she ran to the kitchen. I felt she was getting bolder and bolder by day, and perhaps one could call it being spoiled. It was a reasonable concern to have, and I also understood Rachael's intentions.

Still.

''I think it's a good thing,'' I replied, my mouth curling into a smile the moment I remembered Lyra's animated expressions earlier. ''That child deserves it. She has had a rough time being herself for most of her life. I'd rather have her be spoiled, really.''

''I see.''

Fortunately, the princess didn't question my mindset. Like it or not, people always love it when someone agrees with them. Of course, it didn't mean that I would let Lyra be a bratty, childish lady. That was why I properly sent her back to class after she finished the cake.

At the moment, I was taking a stroll with Rachael around the manor.

As a matter of course, we held hands the entire journey, and even without constant exchanges, it was still cozy. We took our steps through the long, sunlight-basked hallways, enjoying the early spring's warmth to our hearts' content.

Rachael seemed to be interested in many art pieces hanging around the house—decorations, architecture, and musicals—the Orleans had a long history in this empire.

''Do you play any instrument, Cecilia?''

''A bit of piano. I can sing, too.''

One of my dreams was actually to become a singer. Although I gave up halfway through, I still loved singing. That was normal, but not many people believed it when I said I learned how to play the piano only because I felt frustrated whenever I knew the melody but could not recreate it on the keyboard.

But thanks to my effort, I could entertain myself and others with music—one of the wonderful things humanity had created.

Evidently, Rachael immediately perked up at my response.

''Do you want to hear something?'' I asked, giggling.

''It'd be an honor.''

That was an overkill answer, but I was glad.

Then, our destination immediately changed. As we headed to the rooftop garden, where a beautiful grand piano was, I pondered what to play. I only knew songs from Earth, and it would be weird if I suddenly sang in a language Rachael couldn't understand, no?

So, I decided on a calming piece without lyrics.

I had Rachael sat next to me, shoulder touching shoulder, and somehow, with her scent soothing my sometimes muddled heart, I felt as though I could play better.

Peeking at Rachael's relaxed face and her increasingly drowsy eyes, I could tell she liked this. That was why I kept playing, playing, until... I felt her head leaning on my shoulder.

''...Good night, Rachael.''

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Calm yet eventful—those words were what I would use to describe the days I spent with Rachael.

During the days, she and I would stay by one another's side, burning through time at a leisurely pace. We did many things we otherwise wouldn't do, explored the things we otherwise wouldn't discover, and together, we strived to learn more about the other person.

At night, Rachael wouldn't let me sleep for at least several hours, but I also got used to it. That didn't mean I wouldn't get nervous anymore—I just got used to being bullied in bed.

In any case, I thought those days would end peacefully, until...

''...What is the meaning of this, Lady Bourbon?''

''It is exactly how you think it is. I challenge you to a duel, Your Highness.''

Until Penelope suddenly came over and threw her glove at Rachael.