The Boy's Sincerity
The place Edgar sought was the private chamber Helene used alone. Normally, the couple shared a bedroom, but she retreated here whenever she wished to be alone or attend to personal matters. “Welcome, young master. What brings you here?”
“I came to see Lady Helene. Is she inside?”
“Of course. Please wait a moment.”
Shephy turned and knocked on the door to announce his arrival. When Helene’s voice inquired from within, Shephy informed her that Edgar had come.
“Let him in.”
Edgar had worried Helene might refuse to see him, but permission came swiftly. Shephy opened the door herself and guided him inside. The room that greeted him was unlike any he had seen before.
This is very much Lady Helene’s room.
Ariel’s chamber had revealed nothing of its owner, but this space was the opposite. The moment the full view filled his sight, he felt the presence of the woman who lived here. Gold embroidery adorned the bed, while the overall palette of white and beige created a calm, refined atmosphere. The decorations were neither excessive nor lacking, and the arrangement of furniture spoke of harmony rather than ostentation.
“Come in, Ed. This must be your first time here.”
As she said, Edgar had lived in the Robeheim household for quite some time, yet this was his first visit to her private room. He and Helene already met often enough in the course of daily life and spoke frequently, so there had never been any need to seek her out here.
“I suppose so. There was never any reason to visit separately.”
“Indeed. Then today must be important enough to warrant a special visit?”
Helene’s gentle gaze settled on him, and Edgar felt as though his innermost thoughts were being laid bare. He had experienced this sensation a few times before, yet it never grew familiar. The same woman who usually laughed brightly and carried herself with quiet grace could, at times, pierce straight through him. Her endlessly soft eyes carried a subtle pressure that made it impossible to speak anything but the truth.
“…Yes. I imagine you already know why.”
“Heh. I thought you would. The conversation may take a while—would you like some tea?”
“I’d like that. Especially if Shephy is the one brewing it.”
Among all the teas Edgar had tasted, Shephy’s skill ranked among the very best. He smiled as he took a seat, and Shephy, who had overheard the exchange, allowed a small smile to touch her lips as well.
“It is a pleasure to receive praise, especially since my lady never offers any. I shall return shortly.”
“Really, Shephy. You make it sound as though I am stingy with compliments.”
It was not that Helene withheld praise; she simply saw no need to state what was already obvious. Yet here Shephy was, twisting the matter to embarrass her in front of Edgar. Perhaps she had failed in training her maid after all.
“My apologies. It is simply the truth.”
“Goodness. You never lose an argument, do you?”
Knowing Shephy’s occasional teasing was harmless, Helene let the matter drop. Their relationship, though nominally that of mistress and servant, was closer to friendship. Once Shephy bowed and left the room, Helene turned her gaze to Edgar seated across from her. She had known the boy would stop at nothing when it came to Ariel, but she had not expected him to appear before her so quickly.
“You came because of him, didn’t you?”
“More precisely, because of Ariel.”
“…I asked the wrong question. Of course his existence means nothing to you.”
Helene smiled wryly and corrected herself. Though the meaning was similar, her wording had been imprecise. If Yulken had treated anyone else the way he treated Ariel, Edgar would have shown no reaction at all. What troubled him was not Yulken’s behavior in general, but the fact that it was directed at Ariel. It was a clear demonstration of how deeply he cared for his friend. The fact that a single change of target could create such a vast difference in his actions was telling.
Helene was glad someone cherished her daughter so fiercely, yet the need to reveal this truth left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Still, I must tell him.
She had always believed that if anyone would truly protect her daughter, it would be this boy. Informing him felt like a natural extension of that belief. She herself longed to step forward, but in some ways she was no different from her husband—bound by guilt and unable to take that final step. This boy who had appeared might be the lifeline that had come to the Robeheim family.
“I have brought the tea.”
Just as a delicate silence settled between them, Shephy returned pushing a trolley laden with teacups and refreshments. She noticed at once that the atmosphere between the two was different from usual, but she made no comment.
“Ah, thank you, Shephy. We have something important to discuss, so would you wait outside?”
“Yes. I shall return once you are finished.”
She had already intended to do so, so Shephy simply nodded and finished arranging the table. She rose, bowed, and quietly wheeled the trolley out of the room.
As the rich aroma of tea began to fill the space, Helene was the first to speak, lifting her hands from her lap.
“Do you remember what I told you before? That my daughter resembles him a great deal.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Seeing him today must have felt strange to you. There was no resemblance at all.”
“It was… a little.”
Honestly, the disconnect had been enormous. The Yulken he had just met did not seem merely reserved; he had seemed utterly devoid of paternal affection. At Edgar’s reply, Helene nodded weakly and took a sip of tea. There would be much to say, so it was best to moisten her throat in advance.
“He used to resemble Ariel very closely. Or rather, even now, he is not so different.”
Edgar felt as though she were implying that Yulken was simply not honest, yet still full of love for his daughter. If that were truly all there was to it, he wanted nothing more than to march over and punch the man in the face. There were feelings that needed no words to be understood, but even those had limits. He had no intention of showing respect to a father who treated his own daughter coldly, convinced she would understand his heart without being told.
“You seem to have many questions. Would you like to hear my story? It may take some time.”
“Ariel said the same thing earlier. What do you think my answer was?”
“Heh. You probably said you would listen until dawn if necessary.”
“As expected.”
Helene had seen straight through him. Edgar clapped lightly in mock applause, and she smiled softly before sliding the plate of refreshments toward him.
“You may not care for sweets, but these should be acceptable. He likes them very much as well.”
“I didn’t realize he enjoyed snacking.”
“Well, you can tell from his build.”
Maintaining that size through eating alone must have been difficult. Even at a glance, it was clear his bulk came from battlefield muscle rather than simple fat. Still, he could not argue with the amused smile on her face, so Edgar silently picked up one of the offered cookies and took a bite. A pleasant, faintly bitter note lingered on his tongue.
“Ed, you mentioned before that Ariel told you the ‘Story of the Star’?”
“Yes, though I didn’t hear the details.”
“That story is a legend passed down in our family. It is only ever told to two people in a lifetime.”
Two people in a lifetime. Edgar had reached the same conclusion later on his own: it must refer to a spouse and a child. Yet one question had remained—why specify “two” rather than simply saying “spouse and children”? The story Helene was about to tell would answer that very question.
“In truth, the bloodline of my original family—my birth family—carries a peculiar trait.”
“A peculiar trait?”
“Yes. That is also why the ‘Story of the Star’ is only ever passed down to two people.”
Helene tilted her head as if asking whether he understood. Edgar followed the thread of her words to its conclusion.
“It means they can only ever bear one child.”
“…That is correct. It is not a matter of physical frailty, but a fate akin to a curse placed upon the women of this bloodline.”
“There have been no exceptions?”
“None. Not a single one.”
Helene’s firm reply drew a sympathetic expression from Edgar. At that point, it was fair to call it a curse. Whether it was an inherited illness or simply a family trait of weak constitution, the cause remained unknown. Without understanding its origin, it was no exaggeration for them to speak of it as a curse.
“Even knowing this about me, he still proposed. Despite understanding what it meant for our family’s position—that we could only ever have one child.”
“Ah…”
Even among ordinary lesser nobles, the matter of succession was always a concern. For one of the empire’s most prominent houses, it would be even more critical. Yet Yulken had still promised to spend his life with her, fully aware of her circumstances. It could not have been an easy decision—for him, or for the Robeheim family.
“At the time, I accepted his proposal in pure happiness… but looking back now, I wonder if I did something cruel to the child who would one day be born. And to him as well.”
“Because of the pressure of being the heir?”
“If that were the only issue, it might have been fine. Do you think Ariel is the sort of child who would be crushed by such pressure?”
At her question, Edgar gave a small, bitter smile and shook his head. The image of Ariel being overwhelmed by the weight of succession was difficult to imagine. He had once thought it possible, but this incident had made him realize the truth. What weighed on her was not the burden of duty, but the fear of failing to meet her father’s expectations. That pressure might have been stronger than any chain forged of metal.
“Come to think of it, I still have them. Seeing them once will be better than hearing it a hundred times. Wait here a moment.”
Helene rose abruptly in the middle of their conversation and began rummaging through the drawers of the desk to her right. After pulling out a few thick books, she finally retrieved several slim notebooks. Edgar recognized them at once.
“Are those… diaries?”
“Yes. I have never shown them to him, but I believe it is all right to show them to you now. They are diaries I kept since I was still a maiden.”
Edgar understood why she had brought them out. What was written inside would not be ordinary daily records. They would contain the story of how the steadfast man and the pitiable woman had come together, the events that had passed between them, and perhaps even secrets that even Ariel did not know. Everything might be contained within those pages.
“Ah, before you open them, there is one thing I would like to ask. May I?”
“Of course. Ask me anything.”
After receiving even this much, a single question was hardly a burden. Edgar nodded calmly, and the corners of Helene’s mouth lifted slightly. This was something she had been curious about ever since he arrived.
“To put it bluntly, this is nothing more than another family’s private affair. You have no reason or justification to involve yourself. Yet why are you going this far?”
“……”
“I am not scolding you. I am simply curious. Why would you go to such lengths… simply because she is your friend?”
That was all it was—a simple question. She did not seek a grand justification or noble purpose. She only wanted to know why he was willing to do so much for her daughter.
Helene’s sky-blue eyes gazed at him. After some time had passed, Edgar tucked the diary under one arm. It was not a difficult question to answer. He had known the answer for a long time. He had simply never had the opportunity—or the reason—to say it aloud.
“How should I put it… I just want her to smile.”
“People cannot always live with smiles on their faces.”
“You’re right. Even I think it sounds foolish. How could anyone laugh every single day without a single worry?”
Edgar was not a naive man. He knew there were things in this world that could not be helped, and that there would be days when those things brought tears. Even so, this was nothing more than stubbornness. He understood that a man must sometimes yield, yet this was a path he refused to abandon.
“Even so, I want her to smile. At the very least, I will never let her eyes fill with tears again. I have thought that way for a long time.”
He did not know what this feeling was. He did not know why he wished so desperately that this one girl would never cry. But one thing was certain: the origin of this feeling, and the injustices of the world, were none of his concern. A girl who was never honest, who was always sharp-tongued, who was sometimes foolish—yet whose smile was beautiful. He simply wanted her to remain that way.