My Filial Niece
A week had passed since the duel watched by everyone, but there hadn't been any major changes in Liriet's daily life. Her mother, Cassdia, was still strict with her, and her brother Abel remained as aloof as ever. The only subtle difference was...
"Heading out to train?"
"Pardon? Oh, yes, Brother."
"Good luck."
On days when they happened to cross paths in the hallway, Abel— who used to inevitably click his tongue, glare at her like she was a bug, or pick a fight— now offered a brief greeting before moving on. And though it wasn't obvious, her surroundings had shifted a little too.
First off, no one challenged her anymore when she used the training grounds. Thanks to that, Liriet could focus on her training.
"Miss, breakfast is here."
Another change: meals started arriving properly. Before, they had been so meager that anyone could see they were unfit for a daughter of the Argent family. Now, they brought hot food just like what the other household members ate. In the first place, it hadn't been Cassdia's doing that she ate elsewhere; it was Liriet's own choice, not wanting to draw eyes. So she welcomed this too.
And the change that delighted her most of all was...
"Liriet... oh dear, you're eating? Sorry about that. The door was open, so I just..."
"No, it's fine. Please come in. But what brings you here, Uncle?"
"I came to ask if you'd like to go out for a bit later. That troupe you watched and enjoyed last time is performing in the village."
"Really? I'd love to go!"
Her outings had become much freer. Outings themselves weren't a big deal whether allowed or not, but what mattered was that her most admired uncle, Baal, always accompanied her. If Baal weren't there? No matter how fun the show, it wouldn't feel the same. Even as a mere ten-year-old girl, she was certain of that.
"Haha."
As she munched on her bread, Baal suddenly burst into laughter while looking at her. Her head tilted to the side.
"What's so funny, Uncle?"
"Our niece seems to have plumped up nicely in just a week."
"What!? Have I... have I gained weight? I don't want to show you an awful sight like this, Uncle..."
Flustered, she set down her half-eaten bread and snatched up a mirror. Her reflection showed a face that was slim yet slightly rounded— cute for a child her age. But Liriet stared in shock and put the mirror down.
Baal soothed her.
"No, no. I said it because I'm happy. When I returned after two years, our niece's face was half its size. This just proves you're getting healthier."
"Is it really okay? I heard men dislike it when women gain weight..."
"It depends. But I think our niece is plenty cute just like this."
"Cute... hehe."
At the devastating combo of a pat on the head and praise, Liriet's expression melted away. But she soon noticed something off and pouted her lips. It was a crucial matter to her.
"More importantly, I'm not 'niece'— I'm Liriet, Uncle."
"Hm? Oh, sorry. Did I say it again?"
"Yes. You called me 'niece' a whopping seven times yesterday."
"Cut me some slack. It's just stuck on my tongue."
"I know, but..."
She felt pathetic for whining over something so trivial, but what could she do? People's hearts worked that way. If you could control emotions at will, you'd be a machine, not a person.
"Got it. I'll make up for it when we head out today, so forgive me this once, little... er, Liriet."
"Hehe."
Even her parents— and that brother— called her by name, yet it never felt like this. Liriet couldn't stop the goofy grin spreading across her face.
Uncle's voice is magical.
She occasionally thought that maybe Baal's voice had a different rhythm from ordinary people. Even the same words, the same name— when he said them, it always tickled her heart. To her, that felt like true magic.
And that magician would cast his spell on her again today. She was terribly curious what kind it would be.
Baal took Liriet out right after lunch. He'd considered eating outside, but honestly, compared to the Argent family chef's cooking, street food fell far short— in taste and freshness alike. So they ate at the mansion, and he planned to buy her little snacks she might like outside instead. Kids her age usually loved those street foods, after all— the stimulating ones that really whetted the appetite.
"Uncle, there are so many people on the street."
"It's the Holy Birth Festival today."
"Holy Birth Festival? Oh, I've heard of it."
Of course she had. What surprised him more was her casual reaction. The Holy Birth Festival was like Christmas from his past life, but its essence differed slightly. Christmas celebrated Jesus's birth itself, while the Holy Birth Festival was closer to a parents' day.
The reason tied into this world's lore. In the beginning, the goddess of creation, Arkesia, bore five children. No sooner had they been born than they offered one eye and their blood to their mother in gratitude. A grotesque myth, sure, but myths were like that.
For that reason, the Holy Birth Festival commemorated those five gods' act by expressing thanks to one's own parents.
"Wow, flowers everywhere, Uncle."
"So it seems. I never went out much around this time, so I didn't know."
Carnations were being sold everywhere on the streets. Their red blooms evoked the divine blood the five gods offered Arkesia, or so the story went. Carnations weren't the only option, though— any vibrant red flower worked, from his memory. Red roses, ranunculus... but each carried a slightly different meaning. Carnations probably symbolized health and longevity.
"Did you give flowers to your grandparents on the Holy Birth Festival too, Uncle?"
"I did. If memory serves, I first gave them some at eight years old."
Though that was the last time. From nine, he started sword training and sucked at it, earning only scoldings. Annoyed, he stopped giving gifts after that. But sharing that would likely diminish Liriet's respect for him, so he kept quiet.
"What about you, Liriet?"
"I've never given any. Outings were banned, but somehow I felt Father and Mother would hate flowers from me anyway."
"...I see."
He'd asked something pointless. It was almost a foregone conclusion.
If only the original story mentioned stuff like this.
He wouldn't have asked if he'd known. This was all the author's fault.
"But this year, I want to try giving some."
"Why's that?"
"Because you said you believe in me, Uncle. I'll muster my courage."
"That's a fine answer."
He was ready to cheer her on no matter what. If not, he wouldn't have come to her in the first place.
"All right. Give it a try. I'll buy the flowers as a treat."
"No. I decided to buy them myself. I brought allowance, so don't worry."
"No need to refuse."
"No. This... I have to buy with my own money. That's what makes it meaningful."
Hmm, she was being so admirable it made him want to force the money on her even more. But he held back. He understood her feelings, too. It wasn't about the money— it was about gifting from her own strength, pouring her heart into it.
"Flowers for the Holy Birth Festival! Carnations, roses— all kinds available!"
As Liriet clenched her little fist and nodded decisively, a lively woman's voice called from across the way. A stall brimmed with red flowers of every variety, piled high like a garden. People gathered in droves. Business was booming.
But someone was caught in the crossfire of the crowd.
"Uwagh!? W-wait, let me through... oof!?"
"Up you go."
Unable to watch Liriet stumble amid the throng, he approached and hoisted her onto his shoulders. His strength wasn't exceptional, but piggybacking a ten-year-old girl was no burden. (Secret: he'd cast a strength-enhancement spell out of nerves. Maybe he should start exercising.)
"There, better?"
"Th-thank you, Uncle. But this is a bit embarrassing."
"Kids ride like this. Look over there— see?"
He pointed to distract her blushing face, and sure enough, a boy rode his dad's shoulders, striking a Superman pose in delight. Watching quietly, Liriet murmured softly.
"I guess... that's how normal families do it? I've never..."
"You'll have that soon enough. This is one step toward it, right?"
"Yeah... you're right!"
Encouraged from her brief gloom, she brightened and dug into her pocket for money.
"Welcome... oh my?"
"Um, which flower would be good to gift to my parents?"
The flustered stall owner blinked at the sudden towering figure, and Liriet shyly scanned the blooms. To him, they all looked the same— similar shapes, all red, impossible to distinguish.
"Pfft, let me explain. Each flower has a slightly different meaning. Carnations for health and longevity, red roses for respect and affection, ranunculus for family harmony."
"Thank you. Then one red rose and two ranunculus, please."
One and two? That made three total. Who was the single one for... ah.
"That'll be 4 silver total."
"Here you go."
"Thank you. Your parents will be thrilled with such a cute daughter gifting them."
Before his question faded, Liriet finished paying, her face still flushed, and tugged him to hurry along. Standing tall amid the crowd must have been mortifying.
"Thank you, Uncle."
"No need to thank me. Did you pick good flowers?"
"Yes, good ones. The shopkeeper explained the meanings... so, um, that is..."
"...Kh."
Oh no. He shouldn't laugh. This was a touching moment. But holding back was hard as Liriet fidgeted, clutching a slightly different red flower and glancing at him repeatedly. So that's why three.
"U-Uncle!"
"Hm?"
"H-here... for you!"
Feigning calm even with her dramatic flair, she thrust out the flower in her right hand, biting her tongue in nerves.
"For me?"
"Yes. It's not enough to repay what you've given me, but I wanted to share my gratitude at least..."
When had his Liriet grown so bold? He was moved enough without the flower, just watching. He wanted to snap a photo and treasure it.
"Thank you, Liriet. I'll cherish this flower forever."
"I'll give you one every year from now on, so you don't have to..."
"Then I'll cherish those forever too."
Assuming he lived to eighty, one a year would be about sixty. He'd need a huge vase in his room.
Now remained her brother and sister-in-law's— er, Edmund and Cassdia's— reactions to the other two.
"Hehe, now if I just give these to them..."
Seeing Liriet's face brimming with anticipation, he swallowed his words. All he could do was pray it went well.