The Female Lead Takes Care of Everything - Chapter 59

Nivellia nodded seriously as Caleo spoke.

“Jus’ti-fi-cation!”

“Justification.”

“Just-i-fi-ca-tion!”

“……”

Standing nearby, Deter watched the sweet moment between father and daughter with a warm smile—though he briefly wondered, Is this really the right way for her to learn such an important concept?

Still, what mattered was that she did learn it. So he let it go.

“Justification means having a reason to do something—like hitting someone.”

“But it’s not only for hitting,” Soles added, as usual, whenever his little sister learned a new word and came home eager to use it.

“Any action you take has a reason, right? And if a lot of people agree with that reason, then it’s justified.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm… let me think…” Soles looked out the window.

“Autumn’s coming soon, right? So it’ll start getting chilly.”

“And when it gets chilly, it gets cold. That means winter’s coming.”

“Exactly. So, because it’s cold, you go out and buy warm clothes.”

He turned to her.

“How do you feel about that?”

Nivellia answered immediately.

“Nini thinks it’s good! Being cold is hard. You have to wear something warm!”

“Yep. That’s justification.”

“Oooh!”

Nivellia’s little brain soaked it up like sunshine.

She giggled and scooted right next to Soles, sliding her head under his arm as he tried to read.

Then, proudly, she plopped herself right into his lap, like she belonged there.

“Big brother, you’re so smart!”

She looked up and flashed him a bright smile.

“I like you!”

Soles smiled back.

“I like you too, Nini. But… I heard you got into a fight today at kindergarten?”

“He’s not my friend. And I won!”

She lifted her plump little fist with pride.

Soles knew firsthand—getting hit by that fist hurt.

Sometimes, when Nivellia got really upset, she had a hard time holding back.

Even a light hit from her could leave your hand tingling for hours.

He remembered the time she punched him in the stomach just as a joke—he’d had a bruise for a week.

“Lady Nivellia.”

Just then, Aref walked in, fresh from sword training.

“Aref!”

Nivellia hopped off Soles’s lap and ran to him without a second thought.

“She really is the busiest,” Soles said with a sigh. It stung a little that she left so quickly, but he set his book down and followed.

Aref’s hair was still damp, and up close, he smelled like clean soap. It was kind of nice.

Nivellia sniffed the air, then gave him a bright smile.

“Aref, are you all done? Can we play now?”

“Yes. But… are you okay, my lady?”

“Why?”

“Well, about earlier…”

Aref had nearly frozen when he heard she’d been in a fight.

I failed again… I wasn’t there to protect her.

If he’d been nearby, he would’ve stepped in—like a proper guard.

He could now swing his wooden sword fifty times without a break. Ardores even said his form was improving.

“…My lady,” he said, nervously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“I… I’m your subordinate, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So, I… um…”

Next time, I’ll protect you.

If something happens, please call me.

I’m your subordinate… and maybe…

…we care about each other, don’t we?

That thought alone made his face go bright red—ears, cheeks, neck—all turning the same deep color as his ruby-red eyes.

“…Are you sick?”

Nivellia leaned in and waved her hand in front of his face.

“Big brother, is Aref sick?”

“Hm.” Soles, who had been watching quietly, shrugged.

“I don’t think so. Doesn’t look sick.”

“……”

“Ow!”

Annoyed by his teasing smile, Nivellia slapped Soles on the arm.

Her hands still had plenty of sting.

And just like that, the chaos from kindergarten ended peacefully.

“…You’re asking for a mage?”

Just when it seemed like everything was wrapping up, a completely unexpected issue surfaced.

“They really submitted a request like that?”

“Yes. Here’s the letter.”

Della, who was usually dressed in humble cleaning clothes, was wearing a sharply tailored suit for once—the kind worn by noblewomen with knightly titles.

“Where have you been?”

“And why do you need to know?”

“Oh, just the natural curiosity of someone working in intelligence.”

“Nice excuse. I’ll give you points for effort.”

Della adjusted her glasses, her brown hair—streaked with white—neatly tied at the back.

The letter Delrac handed her contained exactly what he’d said: a request to introduce a specific mage.

Even the mage’s full name was written in it.

The sender? A seven-year-old orphan girl named Rima, who had recently become a key focus of the intelligence division.

Della read the name aloud under her breath.

“Inerca…”

“Inerca’s quite well-known at the Tower, isn’t it?” Delrac asked.

Della nodded slowly.

“They’re one of the rare mage bloodlines that’s produced mages for three generations.”

In a world where magical ability is chosen by talent, not blood, it was almost unheard of for mage families to pass their gifts down through generations.

The Inerca family was one of those rare exceptions.

“……”

Behind her thick glasses, Della’s green eyes gleamed sharply.

How could she possibly know this?

This wasn’t classified information—but it wasn’t something a child should have access to, either.

The Mage Tower was an extremely closed-off institution. As the only body that protected mages, it went to great lengths to prevent its internal information from leaking.

Simply put, a seven-year-old orphan girl had no way of knowing this.

This is getting frightening.

Della had thought nothing could scare her after what she lived through forty years ago—but clearly, she was wrong.

…Though no one is scarier than Lady Muniel.

Just the memory of the Saintess made her shiver. She shook her head to clear the thought.

“Delrac, for now—”

“Isn’t it incredible?”

Della stopped mid-sentence.

She turned, stunned, to look at the young man before her—Delrac, who liked to act like he ran the entire intelligence agency.

His eyes sparkled with excitement as he continued to praise Rima.

“How could a child that age get this kind of information? What else does she know? I can’t stop wondering. I need to know more.”

“Delrac?”

“She’s a prodigy. We can’t just leave her in some noble’s estate. She deserves more. I think our agency should—”

“Delrac!”

Della’s sharp voice rang through the room like a whip crack.

Only then did Delrac’s gaze return to focus. He blinked, disoriented, the enthusiasm draining from his face like a dying flame.

“W-what did I just say…?”

“Come here, Delrac.”

Della pulled a small pouch from her drawer and held out a piece of candy.

“Eat this.”

Inside the wrapper was a dark lump of honey candy.

“Right now. In front of me.”

“Huh?”

“Now!”

Under her firm command, Delrac quickly unwrapped the candy and put it in his mouth.

At first, he flinched at the bitter taste. But as the honey flavor spread, he began to relax. Then his eyes twitched slightly as he bit into the sour red fruit hidden inside.

Della didn’t take her eyes off him.

“…Did I… actually say I wanted her? Out loud?”

Delrac looked horrified as he recalled his own words.

Only then did Della finally exhale, a small wave of relief washing over her.

But even she couldn’t stop the trembling that had taken over her body.

This isn’t something we can take lightly.

Even when the Grand Witch warned her in advance, she knew it wouldn’t be ordinary. But this—this solidified it.

She might not even be human.

Muniel had never said a word about what Rima really was.

But now, Della knew she could never look at that girl the same way again.

Even pretending to act normal would be impossible.

The fear creeping into her chest felt no different than the fear she’d once known fighting monsters forty years ago.

Rima, with her soft pink hair neatly braided and tied in two, hummed a tune as she read.

Good. They’re moving exactly the way I told them to.

She dipped a cookie into her milk—brought by the maids—and casually skimmed through the report the intelligence agency had sent in response to her letter.

Everything was going perfectly.

Young Lord Petra had borrowed money to invest in the Prok Kingdom’s magic stone mining operation.

The broker the agency introduced had done a good job persuading him.

The only disappointment is that Rubeo didn’t join the investment.

She had even shaped public opinion through newspaper articles to make it irresistible.

But it was fine.

The “investment opportunity” in Prok’s magic stone mines? That was a scam—crafted entirely by Rima.

Yes, the mine existed. But Petra’s money would be funneled straight into one of Rima’s hidden accounts.

Once she laundered the funds, she would establish her own merchant guild.

She already had a name picked out.

“The Meow Meow Trading Company.”

Rima said the name aloud on purpose.

“The story will return to what it’s supposed to be. The plot does not change. Not without my permission. I’m the author.”

Her whispered monologue went on and on, sounding more desperate the longer it lasted.

No one interrupted her.

Still, she glanced around anxiously every few minutes, muttering over and over:

“I’ll fix it. I’ll set it all right.”

“I’m the main character. This miracle belongs to me…!”

In the mirror, her reflection looked back at her.

A sweet, innocent-looking girl of seven, with perfectly pink hair and a doll-like smile.

“Announcement! Big announcement!”

Nivellia stood up and declared proudly:

“I’m starting a business!”

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