Even the Longest Road Ends - 4
The worries never stopped. The doubts that began that day only swelled larger, refusing to leave her mind.
What am I supposed to do?
It felt hopeless. She never imagined the choice she made a year ago would come back to haunt her this badly.
Right after becoming a civil servant, marriage would be difficult—why was that even a rule? Civil servants couldn't marry freely? Why was the treatment of officials so harsh?
I should have looked into it more carefully.
She let out a sigh—she had lost count of how many that made. It had been a choice to stay as close to Karl as possible. But if all she could do was stay nearby and nothing more was allowed after that, then what was the point? She never would have chosen this if she had known.
Still, she couldn't quit the Student Council now. Showing such an irresponsible, spineless side might disappoint Mother.
Forcing a marriage the moment she became an official was impossible too. Ignoring the rules and customs among civil servants could make her look like a daughter-in-law who swaggered around, relying on the prestige of a ducal house.
What am I going to do?
No matter how hard she thought, no solution came. If she looked on the bright side, there was still a year and a half until graduation—but honestly, a year and a half was nothing. In that short time, could she really find a way to satisfy both Mother's expectations and her own practical needs?
It was so unfair. The moment she let her guard down even a little, tears threatened to spill. She felt so ashamed of herself for proudly treating this fatal shackle like a treasure.
Had Karl been so quiet all this time because she was on the Student Council? Had he stayed still because he thought she had no intention of marrying after graduation?
The thought made a hollow laugh slip out. How strange must she have looked in Karl's eyes? Someone who had no thoughts of marriage, yet kept throwing herself at him.
Maybe it was time to decide with a beast's heart. Even if it meant disappointing Mother, first she had to—
Knock knock.
"Mar, are you there?"
Karl's sudden voice made her body flinch. To think of him and have him appear—surely their bond was fate after all.
The problem was that her own mistake had pushed that fated connection far away. Why had she ever done it? She wanted to turn back time.
"Yes, Young Master Karl. Please come in."
Even though she felt gloomy, she couldn't turn away the man who had gone to the trouble of visiting. She steadied her voice and spoke.
"Sorry for dropping by so suddenly."
"Hehe, this is Young Master Karl's mansion, isn't it? What's there to apologize for?"
Seeing him apologize the moment he opened the door made a smile bloom on her face all by itself.
Just looking at Karl eased her heart a little. Yes—no matter how troublesome the problem, she had to overcome it. If she wanted to stay by his side, she had to endure trials like this.
"Please, sit comfortably. Mother isn't here, but shall we at least have a tea party between the two of us?"
She offered him a seat and started toward the teapot she kept on one side of the room. Calling a maid every time was a bother, so she simply left it there—how convenient that it was ready now.
"Um, Mar. I have something important to say."
At those words she turned back toward him. His voice was heavier than usual, weighted down.
Karl still stood instead of sitting, his expression stiff with tension. It was a look she had never seen, one she had never even imagined.
"It might... take a little while."
"It's all right. It can be as long as it needs to be—speak freely."
The atmosphere made her tense up too. What on earth was he about to say?
Still, she couldn't show a rigid face to someone who had come with such resolve. She would answer with the calmest expression she could manage. That way Karl could speak a little more easily—
"I was the one who told Mother that you can't marry right after becoming a civil servant. It was a lie."
Wh...?
"I did it to avoid an engagement with you, Mar. I'm sorry."
...?
For a moment her mind simply stopped thinking.
There was no denying that he had pushed Margeta away with a strange lie. That was why he had meant to start by apologizing for it.
"K-Karl... Young Master? Did I perhaps commit some terrible mistake against you? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—I didn't mean to. If you tell me what I did wrong, I'll fix it, I promise."
After standing blankly for a moment, Margeta began to babble, her body trembling. Tears were already gathering at the corners of her eyes, and it made his chest ache.
But he believed he had to apologize for his own fault. He could have let it slide, yet he couldn't simply ignore the hardship Margeta must have endured because of all that talk about civil servants.
"You did nothing wrong, Mar. You're truly someone far better than I deserve."
Even the words of comfort did nothing to stop her trembling. Of course they didn't. Coming from the man who had already pushed her away, they would only sound like empty courtesy.
"I wasn't ready to marry anyone yet. That's why."
"Not ready...?"
He nodded at Margeta's careful echo. In truth he had said something similar last year. Back then too, he had rejected her on the grounds that he wasn't ready to be with anyone.
And only now was he finally explaining why. Amazing. In the worst possible way.
"There was someone I loved. We even promised to marry."
At that, Margeta's eyes began to tremble for an entirely different reason. There was. We did. The meaning was obvious enough.
"But I wasn't strong enough for her, and she left for Enen's side."
A simple way of saying it was no longer the case.
Once the words were out, strangely enough he felt nothing at all. He had expected either a rush of relief or instant regret for speaking—but there was none. It was as if he had merely announced that tonight's dinner would be steak.
So he could continue without hesitation.
"I truly loved her. When she left my side I thought I would go mad. Disasters piled one on top of another, and yet I was right there. I wished she had leaned on me and held on."
But what could he do? She had lost most of her comrades and everyone who had been like family. On top of that she had suffered wounds that would eventually leave her unable even to control her own body.
If she had still had family to care for, she might have endured anyway—but that family was gone. With nothing left, Hecate must have feared becoming nothing more than someone who needed his care. Feared becoming a burden that held him back.
He had been fine with it. No matter her condition, if it was her he could have spent his whole life smiling at her side. But she left.
"As time passed, a thought took root. That I am not someone others can rely on. That even if I hold someone in my heart, they might leave me someday."
Even Hecate had left. It was as if the world itself had been determined to take her, heaping every possible misfortune upon her.
Could he be certain something that happened once would never happen twice? Could he be certain no cascade of disasters would ever fall upon Margeta?
"So I couldn't find the courage to be with you, Mar. If you left me too—if I had to go through that a second time—I would lose my mind."
If it happened twice, there would be no third. Before a third could come he would climb up and seize Enen by the collar himself.
He looked into Margeta's eyes, which until a moment ago had been brimming with tears. The gathered tears had already slid down her cheeks, yet she never looked away, meeting his gaze steadily. Her lips were pressed tight, as if she meant to listen to every last word no matter what he said.
Incidentally, green was said to be a color that soothed the heart—and it seemed true. Or maybe it was simply because he had finally started pouring everything out.
"...In truth, part of it was also that I still couldn't forget. Even after two years, she remained so clear in my heart."
Since he had decided to tell Margeta everything, he went all the way to the very end. That the person who left him still remained inside him.
"I'm sorry. I should have said this last year. Instead I only managed to say it now."
Back then he had thought he only needed to get past the moment of discussing marriage talks with Margeta. He had assumed that if he rejected her properly he would never see her again. So he hadn't explained the full circumstances.
But that was an excuse. It might have been right at the time, yet it no longer was. The moment he met Margeta at the Academy, the moment she showed him such undeserved kindness, the moment—however late—his mother began taking an interest in her. He should have spoken by then at the latest.
"...I'm sorry, Mar."
His head bowed of its own accord. He had spoken far too late. To someone who had looked at him for a whole year, he was only saying it now.
And the result was nothing more than a long explanation of "why I cannot accept you." Not a declaration that he would accept her. In a way it was a longer, more detailed rejection—all the crueler for it.
"Young Master Karl. Will you raise your head for me?"
At those words he carefully lifted his face—and Margeta's hand came flying toward his cheek.
Yes, that was only natural. He was almost grateful she was angry enough to do this.
But contrary to his expectations, her hand merely rested lightly against his cheek. Instead of a sharp crack there was only the soft sound of it settling there.
"I'll forgive you for a year. At least it didn't stretch into two."
Red-rimmed eyes, yet a gentle smile on her face. The reaction left him speechless.
"Thank you. For trusting me enough to tell me."
"Mar."
He had never expected gratitude instead of resentment. Thank you—he had no right to hear those words.
"Young Master Karl. Does anyone else know about this?"
"His Excellency the Minister and His Grace the Duke of Victory know, but... you are the first person I have told with my own mouth."
"So you really did trust me."
Margeta did not blame him for staying silent a whole year. She was grateful that, even after a year, he had told her first.
How could she be like that? If it were him, he would have been furious that the man had waited so long to speak.
"Honestly, every time you put up that iron wall it hurt. I kept wondering why you were so firm when I wasn't lacking as a person."
"Mar."
"There was a reason that made sense. A reason I can fully understand."
To understand why someone was pushing her away—and for that someone to be the man she loved. How wretched must Margeta feel, saying such things herself?
Yet she continued with a bright smile.
"From now on you'll be honest with me, right?"
Without thinking he nodded. He had already laid everything bare. There was nothing left to hide, and nothing he should hide. He had to show her everything. That was simply what a decent person did.
"If you look at me honestly and completely, I'm confident."
For a moment he couldn't even react, unable to grasp what she meant.
"Confident that someday I'll find a place in your heart."
"Mar?"
"It would be impossible right now. You've only just shown me your wounds. But that's all right."
And then Margeta stepped into his arms. It was so sudden he couldn't move, yet he couldn't bring himself to push her away either.
Because the Margeta in his embrace was trembling, just a little.
"I'll wait. Until you're ready. I'll wait until then."
"I'll wait until you call me 'big sister,' so in the end the chance that I'll be called big sister is a hundred percent, isn't it?"
He lightly wrapped his arms around her back. He felt he had no right, yet he wanted to.
"Mar... I have one request."
He buried his face against her shoulder.
"If it's all right... instead of Young Master Karl..."
He couldn't bear to look at her face.
"Would you call me just Karl?"
And yet he didn't want to let go either.
"Of course, Karl."
"Just once more."
"Yes, Karl."
Selfish. Far too selfish.
"If that's what Karl wants, if that's what makes you happy, I'll call you that as much as you like."
So he would have to work hard enough that he no longer felt ashamed of himself.
The shoulder where he had buried his face grew a little damp.