For Sale. Fallen Lady. Never Used.

Chapter 308: Lindelheit (4)

Back at the audience chamber.

It had only been a few days, yet the chamber had already been restored to its former grandeur.

The collapsed walls from the clash of magic and divine power, and the sword marks left by Havel were nowhere to be seen—it was as pristine as the first time I saw it.

It couldn’t have been restored so quickly by palace workers alone; the lingering traces of mana were far too dense.

They must have used some form of magic for the restoration.

While I stared blankly at the floor, pondering what kind of magic had been used—

“...Thus, the innocence of Theodore Lindelheit is recognized, as is the folly of the Imperial Court.”

The opening remarks of the event, combining the recognition of our achievements, Carla’s reinstatement, and my conferment of a title, came to a close.

Rodrigo, who had deliberately left the Empress’s seat empty, spoke again. The Emperor, looking even more gaunt than when I first saw him, continued.

“The reinstatement of the Lindelheit Dukedom, 30 years of Imperial support, the removal of the slave brand for Carla Lindelheit, who will be the new head of the family, and as a token of our pledge not to repeat such mistakes, we grant the Amnesty Scepter.”

At Rodrigo’s nod, the chamberlain retrieved a long box and opened it.

Inside was an elegant crimson cloth, which, when unfolded, revealed a dazzling golden staff.

The staff Carla had been using—the one I had first bought her—was also gold, but beyond its color and elongated shape, the resemblance ended.

That staff, though the best off-the-shelf equipment money could buy, was gaudy and ostentatious, earning it the nickname “Golden Flash Staff.”

In contrast, the Amnesty Scepter exuded a natural, subdued nobility, as though it were a masterpiece of art.

To think they’d present a genuine luxury staff made of gold after seeing Carla use the “Golden Flash.”

While I couldn’t yet gauge its performance as a staff, its value as a decorative item was indisputable.

Of course, its true purpose lay elsewhere.

“This staff symbolizes amnesty. Except in cases of treason, any crime committed—even accusations of being a cultist—will be pardoned by the Imperial Court’s authority. Please, do not refuse this gift.”

“Ah...”

Carla stared at the Amnesty Scepter with wide eyes.

Emotions flickered across her ruby-like pupils, appearing and disappearing countless times.

Well, it was understandable.

The restoration of the Lindelheit Dukedom and Carla’s liberation from slavery were anticipated outcomes.

But 30 years of Imperial support? A scepter granting immunity from all but treason? Even with generous assumptions, I hadn’t expected rewards this extensive.

And this wasn’t limited to Carla. Every member of our group would receive something, but starting with such an impressive reward was surprising.

Whether it was publicizing Fiona’s identity or positioning me as a hero, the Empire seemed determined to go all in.

There were likely several reasons—public image management, currying favor with me and Carla, showcasing the Empire’s strength, and so on.

Well, as long as it would benefit us, there was no need to overthink their intentions.

All we needed to do was accept it graciously and use it wisely.

Yet, for some reason, Carla hesitated, gazing at the Amnesty Scepter with a contemplative expression instead of taking it.

...Why?

With 30 years of support, restoring the Lindelheit family’s glory would be no challenge. And with the Amnesty Scepter, she could handle any unforeseen issues.

Carla surely understood that simply accepting it would achieve all these things...

As murmurs arose around us, Carla, wearing a resolute expression, bowed deeply.

“I am deeply grateful for Your Majesty’s grace... but if I may be so bold, I wish to make a request.”

“If it will alleviate your grievances, I shall grant it without hesitation. Speak.”

“Furthermore, given the unparalleled assistance you have rendered to the Empire, I grant you the right, as per custom, to declare your own name. Speak your new name.”

I raised my head slightly and articulated the words I had been contemplating moments before.

“Yandel Lindelheit. That will be my new name, Your Majesty.”

“What...?”

Rodrigo looked more bewildered than he had when Carla refused to be freed from slavery. The reactions of others present were no different.

Even Carla seemed to struggle to comprehend what she’d just heard, her lips parting soundlessly like a fish out of water.

This was the reaction I had expected. While choosing your own family name was allowed, it wasn’t a free-for-all.

Naturally, names that insulted the Imperial family or existing noble houses were forbidden.

Additionally, most title recipients opted to establish their own family name rather than co-opt someone else’s.

Yet here I was, choosing the name of the fallen Lindelheit house—a name Carla had just relinquished her claim to.

It wasn’t surprising that it came across as absurd, perhaps even mocking.

Still, I wouldn’t change my decision. It was already made.

Rodrigo, who had been momentarily stunned, let out a faint chuckle before asking,

“You aren’t merely saying you wish to adopt the name Lindelheit, are you? Have I understood correctly?”

“Indeed, Your Majesty. I wish to claim everything the Lindelheit Dukedom once possessed. I am even willing to forgo all other rewards for this purpose.”

“I see. May I ask why?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Why had Carla chosen to remain a slave?

Certainly, her mindset had been shaped by her upbringing and circumstances as a slave. But her behavior since becoming my slave lingered in my mind.

Statements like, ‘Even if you marry someday, please don’t sell me. I’m fine being just a trinket, as long as I can stay by your side,’ and her absolute obedience, striving to meet my preferences with every effort she could muster.

Reflecting on her past, Carla had been betrayed by the Empire she loyally served, abandoned by the vassal lords she trusted implicitly, shunned by the eternal friend she once relied on, and ignored by the Academy professors who once praised her exceptional talent.

In a single moment, she lost every support she had.

The fear of being discarded must have haunted her ever since.

If she were to shed her slave status, it might inevitably create distance between us. Perhaps she feared that, as my former slave, suddenly becoming a duke would place her above me, which I might resent.

Thus, Carla chose to abandon the restoration of the Lindelheit name in favor of preserving the status quo.

Not because she truly desired it, but because fear drove her to give up.

This was only my interpretation, but after spending so much time with her, I felt certain it was true.

Gathering that certainty within myself, I looked at Carla.

Formalities and etiquette no longer mattered. All that mattered was conveying my feelings completely.

Her hair, resembling threads spun from gold, framed ruby-red eyes that evoked the image of a rabbit caught before a predator.

Just as on the day we first met, Carla exuded delicate beauty, as if she were a finely crafted ornament, yet she carried an air of fragility.

I offered her a small smile.

“Carla has given her all as my slave. ...Thus, I believe it is my duty to respond to her devotion by granting her everything she has ever wanted.”

A radiant smile, one of pure happiness, finally blossomed on Carla’s face.

They say every relationship has its own form.

If so, this must be the way Carla and I express our love for each other.

And I didn’t doubt that truth for even a moment.