Holding Lancer tight, Leone had no idea of the fierce battle raging within his heart. The stubborn young woman was simply determined to seize her happiness with her own hands. Her grip tightened unconsciously, pressing her warm, supple body against his chest. As her fragrance filled his senses, Lancer felt his reason start to unravel. For a brief, reckless moment, he almost returned her embrace—before forcibly pushing her away.
"I'm sorry, Leone… but I can't say yes. Not this time."
The unexpected rejection froze Leone mid-embrace. Her eyes, once hopeful, shimmered now with tears.
"Is it because I was born in the slums? Or is it because my body isn't good enough? That I'm not as pretty as General Najenda or Esdeath?" Her voice shook, spilling forth in desperation. "I'm not asking you to marry me, Sir! I just want to stay by your side. Even if I'm only your maid, I'd be happy…"
Esdeath? Fine, that he could understand—she visited often enough. But Najenda? He'd only seen her a few times, months ago at best. Where had Leone gotten that idea?
Her voice faltered from its initial fervor into a heartbroken whisper. The warmth of her body faded to a trembling chill, though her grip never loosened. Clearly, he'd underestimated Leone's determination.
At first glance, this scene mirrored the incident with Fueguchi Ryouko. But in truth, the situations couldn't be more different.
Fueguchi Ryouko had offered herself to him out of desperation, trying to placate him in hopes of protecting her daughter. Had Lancer accepted, he'd have branded himself a villain forever. But Leone—her trembling, earnest confession had come straight from the heart. Rejecting her outright now would mean trampling on her resolve, even if he struggled to understand it.
Leone felt Lancer's hands firmly grasp her shoulders, gently but insistently pushing her away. Her bright expression crumbled, head drooping in defeat.
So I really am not good enough after all… Not even as a lover…
"Leone."
At that moment, Lancer's deep voice rumbled softly by her ear. She lifted her gaze and found his solemn face startlingly close.
Too close!
Leone flushed to the tips of her ears, her mind going blank. Her body froze, unable to move, though Lancer seemed unaware. He'd knelt only to speak earnestly at eye-level, to show his sincerity clearly.
"Leone, I'm sorry. I never noticed your feelings until today."
Why apologize? I was only ever your slave…
"But now that I do know, I can't pretend otherwise. Even so—I have to refuse."
His voice was firm, decisive, cutting straight into her heart. Leone fought back tears once again, but before they could spill over, Lancer's voice softened.
"I'm not rejecting you because of anything about you. It's entirely my own issue. You may not believe this, but I'll be leaving the Empire soon, and I don't know when—or if—I'll return. I can't make you a promise I'm not sure I can keep. It would be an insult to your resolve, and I'd never forgive myself."
After laying bare the secret he'd kept buried deep, Lancer felt a quiet relief.
Was Leone not tempting enough?
Hardly.
The tomboy he'd first brought home had blossomed beautifully over the past months. Her short hair now brushed her shoulders, her voice softened with time, and her shy, awkward moments were unexpectedly charming. Even her slender frame had filled out wonderfully—proof of her potential hidden by years of hardship.
Even Lancer wasn't immune. Sometimes, catching sight of her unguarded, he'd feel his pulse quicken. Yet as he'd said, he refused to become a slave to his desires. He had bought Leone purely to protect her, not to exploit her. Anything else would disgust him.
Leone stared speechlessly at Lancer, overwhelmed. She hadn't expected him to consider so much. To her, it wasn't necessary.
Who was he?
One of the Emperor's most trusted generals.
A rising pillar of the Empire.
Someone whose future had no limits.
And her?
A former slum-thief…
A slave he'd purchased on a whim…
An ordinary girl whose greatest skill was smiling warmly and welcoming him home.
Her tears fell again—but this time, they carried neither sorrow nor despair. Only happiness and wonder.
The respect in Lancer's words left her stunned.
If Leone walked openly from his villa without disguise, people wouldn't mock her—they'd scatter in fear. But that respect wasn't meant for her. It was rooted solely in their terror of Lancer himself. Leone knew better than anyone how people whispered behind her back. Genuine respect was something she'd never known.
Until Lancer.
Faced with such kindness, she was completely at a loss.
Meanwhile, seeing Leone quietly crying again, Lancer spoke once more.
"I've said all I needed to say. Take some time, think carefully. If you still feel this way…"
He lifted a finger to gently silence her, his voice gentle and warm.
"Give me your answer when I return after crushing the northern tribes. And this time, I promise—if you still wish for it—I won't push you away. Honestly, turning down such a lovely girl took every bit of strength I had."
His teasing words drew an almost-laugh from Leone, and she nodded shyly, smiling despite her tears.
With matters settled for now, Leone finally became conscious of her revealing attire, feeling a blush burn her cheeks anew. Her tear-streaked face felt uncomfortably sticky.
"Sir, I…"
"Yes?"
"I… I'd like to go wash my face."
Lancer chuckled softly at her embarrassment.
"Go ahead. You're starting to look like a stray kitten."
His teasing sent Leone scurrying out the door, cheeks flaming.
Once alone, Lancer sank directly to the floor, his previous smile fading into a weary sigh.
"Damn… truly, a beautiful girl's affection is the hardest thing to handle. But can I even keep a promise like that? And what's going on with this damn System? Ever since arriving in this world, it's done absolutely nothing—not even a single mission or notification…"
Lancer envied those who lived freely, ruled only by their emotions. But he couldn't. Every decision he made carried consequences he couldn't avoid.
Originally, when he'd left Tokyo, his main concern had been finding a solution for Ghoul food sources. But now, another had been added to his burdens:
How the hell was he supposed to take Leone away from this world?
At least he knew he'd receive a [World Entry Ticket], allowing him to return eventually. Without that hope, he'd be even more tormented.
The Imperial Capital lay quiet beneath the moonlit sky. Lancer smiled wryly to himself, a gentle warmth softening the bitterness in his expression.
So there really was someone in this world who cared about him—even loved him, huh?
---
T/N: WHERE DID ESDEATH GOOOOO
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