Fiancé (Part 3)
It took two full days before I finally crawled out of my room.
Having devoured every last edible scrap from my get-well gift baskets, replenishing my food supply had become a matter of sheer survival.
“Ugh, what a pain.”
Once lethargy sank into my bones, even lifting a finger felt like an insurmountable chore.
I called out on the off chance that Yuna might be lurking nearby, but no voice answered.
Tsk. I was hoping to pawn an errand off on her, but my timing was off. Then again, it wasn't as though she made a habit of stalking me around the clock. Expecting her to pop out of thin air every single time I opened my mouth was unreasonable to begin with.
“Whoa...”
Taking that historic first step out into the open world, I stopped dead in my tracks.
Before me lay the half-wrecked academic halls and a swarm of faculty members frantically trying to patch the masonry back together. A good number of students had even rolled up their sleeves to pitch in. At this point, it was hard to tell whether this was an institute of higher learning or an active construction zone—though if forced to pick the single most accurate descriptor, "terrorist attack aftermath" fit the bill best.
“I wonder if the cafeteria even survived this mess.”
If the dining hall had collapsed along with the rest of the campus, I was truly screwed. With Under Chain having launched an all-out assault, going off-campus for a nice meal was out of the question. The surrounding town was entirely deserted, and no sane shopkeeper would have reopened their doors yet. Still, considering I’d received fresh fruit in my gift baskets, food had to exist somewhere on the grounds.
The only real problem was whether I possessed the stamina to wander around looking for it. I had rested plenty, yet now hunger had completely sapped my strength all over again.
“Guess I'll check the school cafeteria first.”
Unless the administration intended for the student body to starve en masse, at least one dining hall ought to be operational. I wasn't expecting a gourmet feast; anything capable of lining my stomach would do.
Armed with that humble mindset, I made my way inside—only to be handed an assortment of raw rice, eggs, meat, and vegetables by the cafeteria matron.
“...?”
Completely uncooked.
What on earth was I supposed to do with this? Crunch on raw grains like a bird? The vegetables might be edible as-is, but the rest...
“There's an open stove over there, dear,” the lady said warmly. “Go ahead and whip up whatever you like.”
“...Thank you.”
I bowed my head politely. I wasn't so dense as to demand she cook for me in the middle of a post-crisis cleanup. Times were tough, and this seemed to be the only functioning kitchen left on school grounds. Rolling in at an ungodly late hour and whining for table service would have been pure shamelessness.
“When was the last time I cooked my own food?”
I was a nobleman. A member of the privileged caste for whom the very concept of preparing one's own meals was practically foreign.
Well, half-joking aside, it was a plain fact that Yohan Damus had never touched a kitchen utensil in his life. That held true for most nobles unless they pursued culinary arts as a peculiar hobby.
“Hmm...”
Between the rice and the flour, I'd opted for rice assuming it would be easier to handle, but where to start?
First, wash the rice and get it cooking.
I rinsed the grains, set the pot over the heat, and set to work chopping the vegetables.
Now, what should I make? Yohan Damus was an ordinary aristocrat who had never lifted a ladle, but the 'me' from before my reincarnation was another story entirely.
“Fried rice it is.”
When you can't be bothered, tossing everything into a single pan is the supreme answer. I dumped the chopped ingredients into the skillet with the cooked rice, stir-fried it with a generous flick of the wrist, and ended up with something that looked surprisingly legitimate. Maybe I actually have a hidden talent for this.
Just as I was about to savor my hard-earned meal—
“Hello, Sir Yohan.”
“Cough! Hack... wheeze!”
I choked on my very first spoonful.
I had wondered where she’d vanished to these past few days, but to think she would materialize right in front of me here of all places.
“It has been a while.”
Watching me hack my lungs out, Ariel Ether offered a faint, bitter smile before taking the seat across from me.
Looking closer, I noticed bandages wound tightly around various parts of her body. She had always carried an air of frail, sickly beauty, but draped in gauze, she looked genuinely pitiful.
And especially that hair.
That doomed anime hairstyle—the side ponytail resting over one shoulder—was particularly unnerving. I really needed to untie that thing for her one of these days...
“Sir Yohan, would you mind if we spoke for a moment?”
“Sure. By all means.”
Looking into those hollow, weary eyes, turning her down was impossible. Besides, she wasn't radiating that bizarre, overwhelming aura from before. If anything, she looked burdened by deep, agonizing contemplation.
“First of all, I am glad to see you looking well, Sir Yohan.”
“Thank you.”
“When I heard you hadn't regained consciousness for days, I was dreadfully worried.”
“I've always been frail, you see. But honestly, Lady Ariel, you look far worse than I do. Are you all right?”
“The battle... was rather grueling.”
Ariel let out a heavy sigh.
The unsettling mood from our previous encounter had completely vanished, replaced by the gentle, familiar girl I knew. Had she undergone some change of heart? Well, distance and time have a way of cooling passions.
“To tell you the truth... my family reprimanded me quite severely over this incident.”
Her voice dipped into gloom.
Reprimanded? By Tronios Ether?
...Now of all times?
As far as I knew, Duke Tronios Ether showed virtually zero personal interest in Ariel. That was the sole reason she had been left to roam free and do as she pleased.
“From the council of elders, to be precise.”
“Ah... that makes sense.”
Even if Tronios Ether remained indifferent, the ducal house's elders were a different matter. Like it or not, their eyes would always be fixed on her. After all, Ariel was practically glued to the side of Princess Lobelia.
“Sir Yohan. What do you believe... a noble is?”
“That's a difficult question.”
And an annoying one to ponder. A noble is just a noble. But if I had to give the textbook answer:
“Aren't they beings who must shoulder responsibilities equal to the wealth and power they enjoy?”
“I suppose... that's true, isn't it?”
Had my response mirrored whatever the elders told her? Ariel hesitated for a brief second before offering a reluctant nod.
“Sir Yohan. I... might be getting married soon. An arranged political marriage.”
“Ah, is that so... Wait, what?”
Having half-listened up until that point, the revelation struck me like a physical blow.
Is that so...? I guess that makes sense.
In the original timeline, Ariel was supposed to be dead by this point. Yet here she was, very much alive. She was the highborn daughter of the Ether Ducal House, but she had renounced all claim to the succession. Which meant everything she currently enjoyed had to be justified by proving her personal utility to the clan.
Ordinarily, a ducal house wouldn't rush into a forced political marriage for an immediate scion, but Ariel was entirely out of the succession line.
From what I recalled, the designated heir after Duke Tronios was Rascal Ether. How Rascal viewed Ariel, I couldn't say—for all I knew, he considered her a thorn in his side.
“I had prepared myself for the possibility of an arranged marriage all along,” Ariel murmured, her tone eerily subdued. The very numbness in her voice only made her seem more tragic.
Here was someone who had only just tasted a sliver of personal freedom. And now she was being dragged back into chains...
“And yet... recently... yes, just recently, I couldn't help wondering what it might feel like to marry for love.”
A self-mocking smile crept across Ariel's lips.
I knew all too well who—and what—she meant by 'love'.
I couldn't say a single word.
Offering empty words of comfort would be nothing short of deceit.
“Sir Yohan.”
“Yes?”
Pushing aside my lingering lethargy, I answered with full sincerity.
“What is a noble, really?”
“...”
It was the exact same question as before, but this time the words caught in my throat. I couldn't toss out a flippant, casual remark.
I searched my mind, desperate to find the right answer for her.
And after much deliberation, I spoke:
“They are beings who bear responsibilities commensurate with the wealth and power they enjoy.”
“I see...”
In the end, my answer remained unchanged.
At the very least, I fully intended to dedicate my life to Damus County once I inherited the title. The devotion of the servants who woke me each morning, prepared my meals, and tended to my every need wasn't something to take for granted. One owed them gratitude, and an obligation to repay that devotion.
“However, Lady Ariel, that isn't the only path available. If an arranged marriage is abhorrent to you, couldn't you negotiate other terms? You could demonstrate your value by securing a high seat in the Magic Tower later on, or perhaps petition Her Highness Lobelia—”
“Sir Yohan.”
I was practically rambling in my desperate bid to dissuade her, but Ariel cut me off with gentle composure.
“What about you, Sir Yohan?”
“...If it came down to it, I would probably just accept it.”
“I see.”
Ariel smiled.
It was a strangely mature, sorrowful smile.
Sitting there, I couldn't begin to fathom what thoughts were swirling behind those eyes.
All I could do was silently wish for her happiness.
I didn't catch a glimpse of Ariel after that day.
As a core member of Lobelia’s faction, she was naturally busy, but after what she had confided in me, I couldn't help dwelling on it.
What's going to happen to her?
Honestly, if she spoke to Lobelia, the princess would likely move heaven and earth to help her. The snag, however, was that Ariel rarely asked Lobelia for anything. A girl who kept her own terminal illness a secret would hardly burden her liege with personal marriage troubles.
“Urrgh...”
Should I discreetly drop a hint to Lobelia myself?
That might not be a bad idea. Though how that would look from the outside was another headache entirely...
“Arghhh!”
I ruffled my hair in exasperation and slammed my forehead onto the desk.
I genuinely had no idea what the right call was.
Hummm!
As I wallowed in misery, a subtle vibration thrummed through the wood.
In the corner of my desk, the Silver Mirror began to pulse with a faint, iridescent light.
“Oh, right.”
The academy had just weathered a massive terrorist attack, and I hadn't even checked in with home... I was drowning in my own problems, but leaving my family in the dark was careless.
I activated the Silver Mirror.
“Father, it's me.”
“Oh! Yohan! I heard what happened. You must have gone through hell. Are you unharmed?”
“Seeing as I'm chatting with you right now, you can tell I'm still in one piece.”
“I was told you were dragged into the fray again. Knocked out cold for three whole days?”
“Look at that, you actually worry about me like a proper father.”
“What kind of father do you take me for, boy?! I am always worrying about you!”
Yeah, right. Like hell you are.
Every single time I sent a letter begging to drop out of the Cradle, he ignored it without a second thought. Now that disaster struck, he was suddenly doing damage control for his parental image?
“Ahem! Just to be clear in advance, dropping out of the Cradle is out of the question.”
“Consistent as ever. Your unique brand of fatherly affection makes my teeth grind, you know that?”
“Krk! Cough!”
Unbelievable.
I hadn't even brought it up, yet he shot me down preemptively. Under normal circumstances, shouldn't a loving parent be screaming for their child to pack their bags and come home immediately?
“You know as well as I do that your latest stunt has put our entire household on red alert.”
“My stunt? What did I do this time?”
“What did you do...?”
Father stared at me with an expression of sheer disgust—no, pure, unadulterated horror.
Wait. What on earth did I actually do?
“Don't tell me... you haven't heard yet?”
“Father? When you use that tone, you're scaring me. What on earth happened? What does this have to do with me?”
“You...”
His face petrified into stone.
In the end, Father clapped both hands over his own mouth, trembling.
Seriously, what was this? Not having a single clue made it infinitely more terrifying.
“The Ether Ducal House... officially proposed a marriage between you and their ducal daughter...”
“...Excuse me?”
“You have to get married, son.”
“???”
What the hell are you talking about?!