Is It a Grandchild?

"Is it a grandchild?"

Selena couldn't answer. Her lips parted and closed a few times, and then she drove a small fist into my chest. It didn't hurt at all.

"I-is now the time for that?! Father is at the front gate!"

"I don't have a single reason not to go."

"He'll have brought the knights with him. You're actually going to die!"

She told me I was going to die, and still my sleeve was knotted tight in her fist.

The tie that hadn't sat crooked once in four years was askew today. She'd knotted it in a rush, bolting out of the room that morning. I reached out and straightened it. Selena flinched, then went still and let me.

I knew perfectly well what kind of man Duke Vernier was. In my last life he had married his daughter off to a fifty-year-old relic, gotten himself tangled in the treason that followed, and brought the entire house down with him.

"I'm not going to die. Let's go."

I opened the door, and Thor was standing there. He wouldn't look at my face. I was the man who had gotten the young lady he served pregnant. That would do it.

"...My lady. His Grace the Duke says I am to bring you first."

"Then we can just go together."

Only then did Thor look at me. His face was one breath short of tears.

In my last life, too, this one had stayed at his lady's side until the very end.

The corridor was packed with students. Word that the ducal carriage stood at the front gate had already made a full circuit of the dormitory, and as we passed, the whispering clung to our heels.

"It's true. She came out of the infirmary."

"Did that northern bastard actually get her pregnant?"

"Knew it. She left chastity out of the morning greeting."

Selena walked with her chin held high. Halfway down the stairs, when someone stared at us outright, she flung my sleeve away—then, a few steps on, caught it again.

"...Are you really going to marry me? Because of the baby?"

The question was small, and it shook all the way through.

"If it were only the baby, I wouldn't have spent four years putting up with you picking fights."

Selena didn't answer. She only tightened her grip on my sleeve.

Beside the fountain in front of the main gate stood one silver-gray carriage and some fifteen knights. A white rose crest was set into the carriage door. The Vice Principal mopped sweat from his face and beckoned us over, and beside him stood a middle-aged man with platinum-blonde hair half-tied back, the same shade as Selena's, a cane in his hand.

Duke Vernier.

He didn't so much as glance at me. He looked only at Selena.

"Get in."

Selena's shoulders flinched. The hand on my sleeve clenched, then slowly let go.

I caught that hand again.

Only then did the Duke's eyes come to me. Gray, nothing like Selena's. The frost wolf I had taken in the Demonic Realm had eyes of exactly that color.

"Eldest son of Blackroad. I tore up the marriage proposal and sent it back, and still that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wasn't enough for you?"

"A pleasure to meet you. Father-in-law."

The Vice Principal dropped his handkerchief.

The Duke's expression didn't change. One of the knights behind him did. The man laid a hand on his sword hilt, stepped in, and seized my shoulder.

I twisted that wrist, caught his belt in my other hand, and hauled him up.

Splash!

A man went into the fountain—the same one I'd dunked the twins in on the day of the entrance ceremony.

"Th-the fountain was only repaired last year..."

No one listened to the Vice Principal's mutter.

"You northern barbarian!"

"I'll see you pay for laying a hand on a knight!"

The rest of the knights moved as one to draw steel. The Duke lifted a hand and stopped them. For a while, the only sound was the drenched knight thrashing in the water.

"A dog of the North."

"Closer to a wolf than a dog. The sort of wolf that takes responsibility for its own pups."

For the first time, the Duke's eyes narrowed.

"A letter came from Marquis Monte. His nephew was beaten by some northern madman, and his forehead split open. What you said was written down exactly. Come to the North yourselves, you told them, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠raise whatever hell you like."

Cedric's pack really were excellent at taking dictation.

Typical of old man Monte. In my last life, too, that bastard had never once gotten a drop of blood on his own hands.

"The child will be born a Monte. The wedding proceeds next month, as planned. If you so much as come near this child before then, I will set my own seal on Marquis Monte's complaint."

Selena drew a sharp breath.

"Father, I..."

"A daughter of Vernier is used for the sake of the house. I believe you were taught that."

Selena's mouth shut as if it had never opened.

I couldn't begin to count how many times she had been made to hear it. They were the same words she had repeated with her knees pulled to her chest, right up until she died. Hearing them out of Duke Vernier's own mouth turned my stomach worse.

I took one step toward the Duke. The knights' hands went back to their hilts.

"Draw those swords, and every one of you dies here."

The gravel under my feet shuddered before the words had even finished leaving my mouth. All I had done was loosen a thread of Aura, and still one of the knights took an involuntary step back.

"Stand down."

At a single word from the Duke, the knights finally let go of their hilts.

I lowered my voice until it would reach him and no one else.

"Monte said he would pay off Vernier's debts. Do you know where that money comes from?"

"..."

"The Great Temple's vault. Monte is using that gold to prepare a rebellion. Go through with this marriage, and Vernier is dragged in with him and erased from history."

The tip of the cane trembled, just barely.

"How do you know that?"

"The North has ears too."

The day old Monte was hauled off for treason in my last life, a key to the Great Temple's vault had come out of his robes. I was the first one to see it.

I went to my knees in front of the Duke.

Someone in the crowd of students made a sound like they had forgotten how to breathe.

A Blackroad never kneels on both knees on another man's land. That was common knowledge, spread the width of this world. Even so, I put both of my knees on the ground. If two knees meant that woman never had to walk as far as the bell tower, then I was getting off cheap.

The Duke looked down at me for a long time.

"The engagement announcement at tomorrow's graduation will proceed as planned. I will give you the month that remains until the wedding. If, within that time, Margrave Blackroad comes to my estate in person, kneels on both knees, and asks for the marriage himself, then I will consider it."

The knight who had crawled out of the fountain swallowed a laugh. Everyone knew the story. The Grand Duke of the North was a man who had knelt on only one knee, even before the Emperor.

These southern bastards only wanted to insult my father.

Ever since the grand ducal title was stripped away in my grandfather's generation, southerners had made a point of calling him margrave. I knew it well enough. There was no world in which my father knelt on both knees ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠before a southern duke. Still, a month was time enough to deal with old man Monte.

The Duke held out his hand to Selena.

She didn't take it at once. Instead she leaned to her father's ear and whispered, so low that only I, standing right beside them, barely caught it.

"Father. Marquis Monte... has terrible breath."

For the briefest instant, the corner of the Duke's mouth seemed to move.

Selena left it at that and took her father's hand. Until the carriage door shut, her eyes stayed on me.

Once the carriage pulled away, the onlookers drifted off by ones and twos. Through the thinning crowd, a head of brown hair came edging closer, all hesitation.

The protagonist of this story. Mina, the commoner scholarship student.

"Mr. Blackroad. Last night, someone from House Monte came to see me."

"What about?"

"They said if I testified that you attacked Mr. Cedric first at the tavern, for no reason at all, House Monte would sponsor me after graduation. They had even written me a script."

Mina drew a folded sheet from her clothes and gave it a little wave. When I said nothing, she smiled, awkward and sheepish.

"I wasn't there that day, so of course I refused."

The Mina of my last life had been a saintess who, while the North was falling apart, spent her time fretting over which of the male leads to choose.

"And that Cedric—he told me to pour his wine, too."

This life, that saintess had kicked a marquis house's patronage aside.

"Oh, and congratulations on the baby! I'm sure a god's blessing will rest upon the child."

"Yeah. Thanks for the blessing."

The moment I locked the door, the strength went out of my legs. I let my back slide down it and sat where I landed. From the study on the floor below, Father's voice carried up.

"Every document exchanged with House Monte. Bring them all. Now."

...Hah. Serves you right, you bad-breath old man.

I shot to my feet and stood in front of the mirror. There were still lines I had to deliver tomorrow, looking that idiot in the face.

"O~hohohoho! The chaste and noble daughter of House Vernier..."

The fan refused to snap open.

"Chaste, the ch-chaste... haa..."

Heat flooded my face all at once.

"...I am the flower of the noble House Vernier, Selena Blackroad, you know~?"

In the mirror, I had gone scarlet to the tips of my ears.

"Kyaaaaa! I've lost it, I've completely lost it!"

I hurled the fan, flung myself facedown on the bed, buried my face in the pillow, and kicked at the blankets.

No one had heard. So it was fine.

......It is not fine!!

After a long spell of that, I quietly laid a hand on my stomach.

"...Your dad really is a barbarian. You know that, right?"

My stomach was quiet.

"But the kneeling... was a little bit cool. Don't tell your dad."

...Dad.

Now that I had said it, the word circled strangely at my ear. That barbarian, a dad.

And then that night came back all at once.

Four years, and I had never once called his name. And I had done it—in a voice like that, all sweet-talk!!!

"Aaaah! Stop thinking! Selena Vernier!"

I clutched the pillow and rolled back and forth across the bed. The blanket slid to the floor. My hair went wild.

"Uwaaa... why did you pretend you didn't remember, this morning? You idiot..."

From beneath the loose board at the bottom of the drawer, I took out a sheet of letter paper.

The moment the words were down, I called a flame to my fingertip and burned that line, and only that line, clean away. This, I absolutely could not let anyone find.

Beneath it I wrote I want to see you three times. Then I struck it out three times with the pen.

Only two lines were left. I folded the paper into the shape of a bird, breathed into it, and the paper bird drank in a blue light and rose out the window.

"Ah, wait! Crossing it out with a pen doesn't actually hide—"

I knocked my forehead against the window frame.

Back at the dormitory, I wrote a letter to send my father.

House Blackroad and House Vernier were old enemies. My father called the southern nobles insects, freeloading on the defense of the realm. The South called us black-haired barbarians.

Romeo and Juliet had it easier than this.

"At least those two didn't have a kid."

I tore the letter up more than once.

Tore it. That one would have gotten me beaten to death.

I turned the words over and over, and in the end I wrote this and tied it to the hawk's leg.

I nearly scratched out the last line, then left it. Better he hear it from me than from rumor.

Just before I entered the Academy, in the training yard, my father's face came back to me—the face that had given ground before my fist. A thick, fluffy beard, smiling even as he knelt on one knee. And today, the eldest son of that house had offered both knees on southern soil.

That night, something tapped at the window.

A paper bird sat on the sill. Blue mana flickered at the tips of its wings. I unfolded it, and every stroke of the hand was proud.

Between the two lines were the marks of something written and scratched out, over and over.

"I want to see y...ou?"

One corner of the paper was, for some reason, scorched into a neat little circle.

Should I pretend I didn't see it?

The hawk was already back before dawn. The paper tied to its leg was smaller than my palm. My father's handwriting.

That was all.

I turned the paper over. Two more lines waited on the back. The ink had bled, as if he had written in a hurry.

In my last life, my father had not even come down for the crown prince's enthronement. He had died on the Wall instead.

And now, at the mere word grandchild, that man was coming down from the Wall.