Something I'll Overcome Someday - 1
When I received Mother's letter in the Imperial Capital, I had a hunch about a certain distant future. I figured she would squeeze me so hard over marriage talks that I wouldn't even have room to breathe. Calling a son who was still single past twenty into her private chambers meant she was ready to put him through the wringer, right? Anyone would think so.
But once I actually arrived at the estate and several days had passed, Mother never brought up marriage even once. We shared all three meals together and even drank tea in the rear garden in the afternoons, and still not a single word.
"So during the exhibition preparation period, you can't even sleep properly."
"It breaks my heart that you're working so hard while you're still a student."
"Still, it was a relief that Young Master Karl was there. Every single person was desperately needed, and Young Master Karl is a Ministry of Finance official, after all."
She simply wasn't saying it outright. Because Margeta sitting right next to me was a living pressure card.
After Margeta greeted Mother in the rear garden, Mother welcomed her with enthusiasm. Whenever we held tea parties in the garden, she always called for Margeta, and sometimes the two of them would even meet alone without me.
Acting like that made it hard to play dumb. Without that kind of social awareness, you couldn't survive as a civil servant.
"Karl and the young lady seem to get along quite well."
Mother took a sip of tea, her gaze briefly flicking toward me before settling back on Margeta. Behind us, the head maid was definitely covering her mouth and smiling.
This was no different from marriage pressure—she just wasn't saying the words. At least she wasn't shoving some unknown noble daughter at me and asking what I thought of her. I supposed that was something to be grateful for.
"Hehe, I think so too."
Margeta seemed thoroughly delighted by the situation; the smile never left her face.
So this is how it's going.
I already knew Margeta still held feelings for me. That those feelings were larger than last year, if anything, not smaller.
But I never expected her to approach Mother so proactively. When she first said she wanted to greet Mother, I thought it was just exchanging introductions. This was far beyond simply becoming acquainted.
As I sat there quietly fingering my teacup, the three women's gazes subtly gathered on me.
Ah.
I'd been lost in thought and failed to answer in time. Meeting the comment that "the two of you seem well-matched" with silence was as good as saying I didn't think so.
Margeta seemed to take it that way too; her bright expression from moments ago was gradually clouding over.
"I feel the same way. Where else would I find someone like Mar?"
Two short sentences, and her face brightened again.
"I see."
Mother seemed satisfied with the answer and gave a light nod.
"The madam and the Count were also three years apart in age, weren't they?"
"Head maid. Why bring up our story when the children are talking?"
"My apologies, Madam."
The head maid, who had been watching with a pleased expression, slipped in her comment. Mother rebuked her, but she didn't look particularly angry, and the head maid's expression remained serene.
She'd been waiting for the right timing to bring that up all along.
No one on my side here.
Mother carefully gauging my reactions before speaking, the head maid providing support here and there, and Margeta simply happy.
Excluding the maids standing like screens, everyone present was pressuring me. I didn't particularly dislike it, but it wasn't comfortable either. This whole situation itself felt like false hope for Margeta.
When I absently turned my gaze toward Margeta, I saw her face flushed red. The comment about Mother and the Count being three years apart must have set her imagination racing. Yes—this was uncomfortable.
I feel bad every time I look at her.
Pretending not to notice such obvious affection was hard enough. Even when I pretended not to notice, her feelings only grew stronger instead of weakening. If I still felt nothing after all that, I'd be a man without a heart.
She was more than I deserved, and I was grateful. That might be why I couldn't look at her straight on and forced my gaze away. Her affection was too heavy to accept lightly.
When I looked at Margeta without having let go of that time yet, was I looking at Margeta—or at Hecate? Even I couldn't say for certain.
How long am I going to keep this up?
I couldn't forget Hecate, but I couldn't stay bound forever either. Hecate wouldn't have wanted me to live like this. She'd scold me for being so pathetic. That was the kind of person she was.
So hadn't I thought that I'd marry someday myself? That meant I had to overcome this someday and look at someone else. The problem was that it wasn't as easy as thinking it.
Still, if I were to look at someone—
"Young lady, try this as well. It's the chef's pride and joy."
"Thank you, Madam."
It would probably be Margeta.
Unless I were someone like the Golden Duke who looked at many women, honestly, any man with a heart couldn't turn away from Margeta.
Life at the estate was quiet and uneventful. Partly because Tailglehen County wasn't famous as a tourist destination.
"It's raining quite a bit."
"It's summer, so it can't be helped."
Starting today, the weather turned rather unsuitable for going outside. In a way, was that fortunate? There was nothing to see outside anyway, and now I had a reason to stay indoors.
Even the club members seemed unenthusiastic about exerting themselves in the gloomy weather and were focusing on indoor activities. Right now Ainter and Later were playing chess. Please, just live like that all the time. Then I'd have nothing more to wish for.
"A knight must always stand at the vanguard!"
"A priest, too, must step before the masses."
"You guys don't know how to play chess, do you?"
There were also those extreme concept-obsessed idiots offering bizarre advice from the side, but I'd let that slide. Deploying the knight and bishop forward from the very start? Then what were the pawns supposed to live on?
I looked at the chessboard where five idiots had gathered, then turned my gaze toward the balcony. At some point Luise had gone out there. Even with the roof blocking the rain, it would be cold outside right now.
Judging by the fact that these Luise-detectors hadn't noticed, she must have just stepped out. I should call her back before she caught a cold.
"Luise."
Perhaps buried under the sound of rain, she didn't react even when I called her name.
"Luise?"
"O-Oppa?"
Only after I approached and touched her shoulder did she whirl around in shock. Confirming it was me, she took a deep breath—she'd been quite startled. Now I felt bad for nothing.
As I stood there awkwardly watching her, Luise finally offered a faint smile after several deep breaths and spoke.
"I'm sorry. I was lost in thought for a moment and didn't realize you'd come."
"I just got here, so don't worry about it."
I waved my hand and turned my gaze to where Luise had been looking.
Nothing special.
Just the garden. A rainy garden. I'd wondered if she'd come out because something caught her eye, but there was nothing.
"It's raining—why are you out here?"
"I'm fine. It's pleasantly cool, so I like it."
She answered with a giggle, but the corners of her eyes drooped weakly. It bothered me too much to just let it go, yet there was no context for pressing her.
"Yeah, it is cool."
Then I just had to wait until she spoke. If it were truly something she couldn't tell anyone, she wouldn't be standing on the balcony as if begging someone to notice.
Even if I'd stayed put, the other idiots would probably have looked after Luise on their own, but I couldn't ignore something once it had entered my sight.
Standing side by side with Luise looking at the garden, I felt a sidelong glance. When I casually turned my eyes, Luise was moving her lips as if wanting to say something.
Wait. If I rushed her, she'd just claim it was nothing and run away.
"You and Erich seem to get along well, Oppa."
At last the hesitant Luise spoke first.
"You enjoy tea together, and share meals too."
"Do we? I think it's ordinary."
"That's what's good about it. Not fighting is something to be thankful for."
Having said that, Luise let out a small laugh, then turned her gaze back to the garden.
"I couldn't manage that."
At the bomb that dropped so casually, my body briefly froze. I never expected that topic to come up so suddenly.
Instinctively I started to offer words of comfort, then closed my mouth again. Officially, I was in the position of not knowing about Luise's past. If Luise, who had finally mustered the courage, looked at me with contempt and terror and asked, How does Oppa Karl know about that?—that would be a problem.
"I had an older sister four years older than me."
"Exactly the same age gap as me and Erich."
"Aha, now that you mention it, you're right."
Luise forced a bright laugh, but that only made her look more desolate. Didn't people who endured alone always seem more pitiful than those who openly said they were struggling?
"But my sister and I... we never became like you and Erich, Oppa."
Luise rested her hands on the rain-soaked railing and kept her head bowed for a long time.
"I wanted to get close to my sister, too."
Then she lifted her head and looked toward me. Rain was already streaming down her face.
"But my sister hated me so much she left for a faraway place. So we'll never become that kind of relationship."
When I said nothing, Luise laughed awkwardly. She must have felt embarrassed and sorry. She'd suddenly unloaded a heavy lament on an acquaintance, after all.
But I actually thought it was fortunate. Sharing a trauma she'd carried alone since childhood with someone was important. It had been far too heavy a burden for a seventeen-year-old girl to bear alone.
That the person she chose was me rather than the other idiots was unexpected, though. Were these guys like this in the original work too?
"I'm sorry. Bringing up something like this all of a sudden."
As Luise added that seeing Oppa and Erich had reminded her, I placed my hand on her head. Then I lightly ruffled the head that tilted in confusion.
"O-Oppa?"
"You don't have to say sorry at times like this."
A victim didn't need to apologize while getting counseling.
"You didn't do anything wrong."
Come to think of it, it had also been a rainy day when Luise's sister died.
What a coincidence. Same for me.
In this world, rain seemed to have something that symbolized tragedy.