Unmarried, 21, Powerful - 4
I found myself torn between filial duty and unfilial rebellion because of my love-blinded little brother, only to realize upon reflection that I was every bit as unfilial myself. In some ways I seemed to be burning even more spectacularly as an unfilial son than Erich.
Nobles carry a vast obligation to continue the family line. And among them, the family head and the heir naturally bear the heavier share. Yet here was an heir past marriageable age with not only no wedding in sight, but not even word of an engagement. From a parent's perspective, there could be no greater unfilial act.
Somehow both brothers in a matched set.
The elder with no marriage news, the younger pursuing a challenge that bordered on the impossible. How had the only two children both ended up like this? It was almost strange that the family head had kept silent until now.
Perhaps Erich's remark just now—that he hoped to find a compatible partner at the Academy—had been a roundabout form of pressure? That the older brother ought to find someone first before the younger married, so the family could save face.
It was a troublesome subject. If they pressed me outright I could at least dodge; when they spoke in circles it became far harder to mount a proper defense.
I have to do it eventually, though.
I had no thoughts of marriage right now. Two years had passed since that incident, yet for me those two years felt more like "still" than "already."
Of course I could not live alone forever. Even if the possession had been sudden, I had lived as a noble with no worries about food or shelter. Having enjoyed the rights, I had to fulfill the duties as well. Had I possessed a commoner I would have been worrying about survival rather than marriage.
But that did not mean I wanted to take it lightly. If the person I was now were to bind myself to someone, could I treat that person with true sincerity? Impossible. I would commit the rudeness of thinking of another while standing beside them. There was a reason I had rejected the marriage talks with Margeta.
"If fate allows, won't he meet a good person? There are still more than two years left until graduation."
I barely sorted the tangled thoughts and opened my mouth with something suitable. Since on the surface we had been speaking of Erich, I had to continue with words about Erich.
And no matter how many times I considered it, it seemed better not to mention that Erich was aiming for Luise. If I carelessly said so, Mother would worry in her own way and Erich would feel burdened in his. There was no need for me to speak up when he himself kept silent. An older brother who spilled his younger brother's secret to Mother—how pathetic.
"Perhaps he might meet someone after graduation as well."
I added one more line. Words that took into account Erich's spectacular defeat in the contest for Luise, and that also served me. Erich might meet someone during his life in society after graduation; I was already living that life, so someday I would bring someone home. That was the meaning.
From the perspective of a mother who had summoned me for marriage talks it would not be a satisfying answer, yet what could I do when this was the best I could offer as I was now? Better this than escaping the moment with a promise I could never keep.
"So please don't worry. Won't he handle it well on his own?"
I finished with the obvious reassurance that if left alone he would manage. Looking at Erich's current state it seemed he would manage nothing of the sort, but Mother did not know about his unsightly side. There is happiness in not knowing.
And while she was leaving Erich alone, it would be even better if she left me alone a little too. Honestly, wasn't I more reliable than Erich?
"Yes, he will do well. He always has."
Mother nodded slightly and answered in a low voice. Certainly Erich's reliability had slipped a little of late, yet before entering the Academy he had been a boy who trained diligently on his own.
"Yes, he will do well."
Let us trust the him of those days. Even if love has blinded him into strangeness now, his essence remains a good child.
The tea party ended without result. Yusenia, who had prepared for days what she meant to say, ultimately failed to deliver a single proper sentence and sent Karl away.
"I will attend to the madam, so everyone tidy up and return."
I could not let others see Yusenia staring wordlessly down at her teacup, so I dismissed the maids first. In her present state she could not even give them proper instructions.
Once I confirmed they had gone, I looked at Yusenia, who still kept her head bowed. Foolish girl. Who was it who said she did not expect forgiveness all at once? This was only the beginning—if she was already like this, what would she do later?
Yet no matter how foolish and stubborn she was, she remained the friend I had known since childhood. If I did not understand Yusenia, who would?
"Nia."
When I called her by the nickname she finally reacted and lifted her head. The unfocused eyes that fixed on me left me both frustrated and aching. Why did this usually resolute woman fall apart the moment the children were involved?
I slipped a handkerchief free and held it out. Yusenia took it quietly and stared blankly down at the cloth. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes and began to fall drop by drop.
"There's no one here."
"Hic—"
At the assurance that no one remained, a sob escaped—a sound suppressed as much as possible, perhaps for the dignity of a countess. We had already seen everything there was to see of each other; dignity now was a little late.
"La-Laura, Laura..."
"Yes, yes."
As she stammered my name and wiped her eyes again and again with the handkerchief, I patted her shoulder. The tears only increased, as if the comfort made her feel more forlorn. Cry like that, then. If it eases her heart even a little, it is fortunate.
In her twenties she had so few tears I sometimes wondered whether she possessed emotions at all; once she entered her thirties they came more freely. Would she change again when she reached forty?
"So please don't worry. Won't he handle it well on his own?"
Still, I understood. Having heard those words from Karl, she could not endure it. No matter how prepared she had been, what mother could stand hearing such things from her son?
On the surface they were ordinary words—comfort saying she need not worry too much. But given the relationship between Yusenia and Karl, she could never accept them as they stood.
Even from my third-party vantage they had sounded like I do fine without you, so stay out of it. How much worse must they have struck Yusenia herself?
How disappointed must he have been.
Karl had been a tender, quiet child. One who silently did his work and considered those around him. Among the two brothers, therefore, less attention inevitably went to him. Compared with Erich, who had been far too lively as a boy, Karl required fewer hands.
I had always felt sorry for that. Karl said it was fine, that as the older brother he understood—but who would take those words at face value? Older brother or not, Karl had still been a young child.
Yet he devoted himself to training without a single complaint. It was strange that he never took shortcuts even though the work must have been hard at that age, so I once asked him why.
"If I work hard, won't Father and Mother praise me?"
A little boy who had not even grown used to the words "Father" and "Mother" was already thirsty for affection. Still he only wanted affection; the feeling never turned to resentment.
He simply trained, believing that if he worked hard they would look at him, that someday they would love him. That was the kind of child Karl had been. And now that same Karl had told her to her face that he no longer needed her attention.
Had time changed him? Or had he abandoned hope in a mother who only noticed him when he stood at the brink of death? Or had the war, the darkness of the Imperial Capital, remade the boy?
"I hear the head of the Aeshilon family committed suicide after being mocked by the Audit Department Chief."
"Did you hear? Four count houses collapsed overnight."
"Now no one dares mention age. Well, he killed everyone who pushed back, so who would open their mouth?"
The longer Karl remained in the Imperial Capital without returning to the territory, the more ominous the stories that circulated about him. I could not deny them. They were all true.
Yet I believed he acted only because of his duties, that his essence had not grown cold and vicious. Fortunately that belief was rewarded.
I arranged chance meetings with the servants who worked at Karl's private residence. When I said I was his former nanny their wariness vanished, and I heard only positive accounts: a master who considered the commoner servants and provided for them without lack.
In that moment I was certain. Though the title of Audit Department Chief had earned him notoriety, inside he remained a warm child. What sort of boy had he been, how tender?
Yes. That kind of child.
It was true that Karl had shown Yusenia his disappointment. Still hope remained. He was a child who would look back someday if she sincerely apologized and sought forgiveness.
So I must not waver. If I faltered while Yusenia was already wandering, Karl and Erich would live their entire lives without ever knowing a mother's love.
"Nia. Don't cry. There are still plenty of chances."
First, calm this crybaby.
Walking down the corridor I caught sight of Erich's back.
This bastard.
I had not been thinking of him particularly, yet the moment he entered my field of vision irritation surged for no good reason. The one making a mess of things at the Academy was that guy; the one suffering for it was me. Was I not just now returning after having vaguely answered Mother when she brought up Erich's prospects?
In truth, if Erich had kept up proper contact with Mother from the start, none of this would have happened. Had she known him well, would she ever have said in front of me that she hoped he would meet a good partner?
"Erich."
No matter how I looked at it, the problem stemmed from Erich's neglect of the family. Calling him over to offer brotherly advice, I gestured; he flinched yet approached obediently.
"Did you greet Mother?"
"I greeted her earlier at the castle's main gate."
"Not that."
Where did he get off treating the bare minimum as an excuse?
"Contact her and greet her more often in general. She seemed to be worrying about you."
In the end I poured out an unplanned lecture. I myself felt little affection for Mother, but Erich was her own blood. He ought to keep in touch and build that bond so he would have no regrets later.
"No, Hyung also doesn't contact Mother—"
"I can't because I'm busy. Am I the same as you, lounging at the Academy?"
Anyway it was not my fault. This wretched unfilial son—if I did not enlighten him as his older brother, who would?