I Don't Know Such a Person - 2
The Baking Club room was surprisingly clean for something left alone over the break. I had even come prepared to clean, fully expecting it to be buried under a thick layer of dust.
I heard you've returned to the Academy. The clubroom has been cleaned regularly, so you may use it right away.
I had just been gathering cleaning supplies when a message arrived from the vice principal, so I strolled over empty-handed. As it turned out, the place had never been neglected at all—it was a carefully maintained little treasure.
Thanks, Vice Principal. Climbing all the way to the Academy's number two must take real ability and sharp instincts. If those 1-2-3 trio had even half his sense...
Should I scout him?
For a moment I seriously considered poaching the vice principal for the Audit Department. Other divisions would be a stretch, but drop him in the deputy's office and he would probably thrive.
I weighed the idea carefully, then discarded it. People should work where their talents actually fit. Look at me—I belong in the military, yet here I am suffering in the Ministry of Finance.
Swallowing the bitter thought, I set the hawthorn pot down by the window. If I had known the vice principal would keep up the care, I need not have taken it home at all. Still, it had brightened my room the whole time I stayed at the mansion.
Thank you, my little Whitey.
Grow big and strong.
Our Whitey really was a beauty. Irina had chosen the perfect gift. And when I remembered the flower language Yuris had told me, the present became twice as moving. Forgiveness and tolerance—hearing it again still filled me with awe.
If I had been in Irina's place, I could never have forgiven anyone. You get along just fine, then the whole family gets beaten half to death. How do you forgive that?
I stroked a branch as carefully as if I were petting Section Chief Three's head, then turned away. Guests would arrive in a few hours; time to prepare.
Ferosa Garineli.
I pulled out the store-bought sweets I had bought earlier and rolled the visitor's name around in my mind.
Villar's daughter. Member of House Garineli, one of Armein's great martial families of count rank. And a prodigy who had received a formal knighthood at only seventeen.
Impressive for her age, certainly. But "impressive for her age" was all it was. She was not vastly superior to other knights. So what if she was a knight at seventeen? Wars do not pit same-age opponents against each other.
No matter how I look at it, she volunteered.
Every country on the continent follows the same custom: never assign blood relatives to the same mission. If the entire unit falls, one house is wiped out.
The situation was not so desperate that they needed to ignore that rule, and Ferosa's skill was not overwhelming enough to force the issue. That meant she herself had asked for the assignment.
I still could not understand it. Why volunteer? And why had Armein accepted her request?
Are they seriously trying to arrange a family reunion?
In a way it was a peaceful posting—staying at the Imperial Academy. Escorting a prince practically guaranteed future promotion. So maybe they had simply sent the daughter to her poor goose-dad Villar without a second thought.
That was the optimistic reading, of course. Reality was usually uglier. They knew it too—that was why they had rushed through a massive personnel swap.
Whatever.
No matter how much I fretted, I would never grasp another country's internal affairs. I would just call it Armein being moved by Ferosa's overflowing filial piety.
From Villar's point of view, though, that "filial piety" was pure fire.
Footsteps approached from far down the corridor and stopped outside the clubroom door. Here they were.
—Knock knock
"Inspector. It is Villar."
"Ah, please come in."
The door opened and I nearly looked away. Villar's complexion seemed even darker than last time. So the thing that finally broke the man who had endured every idiotic stunt of those foolish princes was his own daughter. A tragic business.
Even his blond hair looked duller and more brittle. At this rate it might turn pure white before long.
"Thank you for accepting my sudden invitation."
I forced down the pity and welcomed him warmly. This meeting was pure consolation, not official business, so I needed to make him feel at home.
Of course, comfort from a stiff man was usually worthless, but catching his breath here still beat getting crushed in the Triple Alliance dormitory.
"I am the one who should thank you for granting my unreasonable request."
"Haha, nothing unreasonable about it."
I gave a small laugh at Villar's words, then shifted my gaze past him.
The subject of that "unreasonable request"—the person most likely to give Villar a hypertensive collapse if anyone could.
"Sir Villar, so this is...?"
"Yes. My daughter."
At his sigh-laden answer, a knight with dark-blue hair stepped forward and bowed.
"Ferosa Garineli."
A rigidly set face and a blunt greeting. Ordinary, unremarkable. At first glance she did not look like the heroine of any blazing filial drama.
She takes after both sides evenly.
The rough, stern demeanor was pure father; the dark-blue hair must come from her mother.
"Karl Crassius. Let us get along until graduation, Dame Ferosa."
"Yes. Please look after me."
After the brief exchange I seated them both. Leaving invited guests standing was simply rude.
I set the prepared tea and sweets on the table. Villar spoke first.
"It has been a long time since I last had sweets in a clubroom."
A quiet laugh slipped out of me. He was right—it really had been a while. We had held plenty of tea parties in the capital and on the estate, yet I still missed these simple little clubroom gatherings.
"Though these are store-bought rather than homemade."
"A pity."
His face did not look the least bit disappointed. Better mass-produced cookies than Luise's polarizing creations, apparently.
I understood. No father wanted to feed his daughter something most people could not even swallow. Even after the girl caused a major incident, a father still loved his child...
I glanced at Ferosa; her expression remained locked and stiff. Yeah—better not talk to her.
"You must have been busy. Just relax and stay as long as you like."
Stick to the original plan and focus on Villar. If this man's nerves suddenly snapped and he bolted, we would be in real trouble.
Fortunately, I could see Villar's mental state gradually mending.
"Father, try this one too."
The greatest contributor to his recovery was, surprisingly, Ferosa herself.
Ironic that the person who had delivered the critical hit was also the one healing him, but a daughter was still a daughter. Having a girl not yet twenty sitting close by seemed to restore his peace of mind.
Knights were usually rigid. Watching a daughter who walked that same path act soft and gentle only toward him must have made him proud and fond.
"If only she were always like this."
I pretended not to hear Villar's mutter. So she was not normally this way—he was simply feeling guilty.
Ferosa hung her head in embarrassment at her father's words. From that reaction, she at least knew she had done something wrong.
Knowing her own fault earned her bonus points on first impression. Compared to a certain prince of the same nationality, she was practically an angel. That bastard would never even realize I was insulting him.
"Dame Ferosa seems quite devoted to Sir Villar."
I slipped in a remark to defend her. Sensing my support, the girl who had been staring at the floor slowly lifted her head.
"I never imagined this child would follow her father all the way to the Empire, though."
And down it went again. Sorry—that approach failed completely.
Once the conversation stalled, I could not find a good way to restart it. Truthfully, there was no decent defense for Ferosa coming to the Empire.
Still, I wrung out something to say. Stopping now would leave both of us awkward.
"The kind of obsession that makes someone a knight so young is rarely ordinary. A few unusual choices are only natural."
In truth it was not "a few." It was extremely unusual.
"And how beautiful that, after becoming a knight, she still thinks of her father instead of growing arrogant."
In truth it was not beautiful at all. It was terrifying.
"Having a knight like that among his escorts must put His Highness Ryutis completely at ease."
In truth he would not even notice she was there—
"Truly?"
What.
Why react to that of all things?
Ferosa, who until now had only watched me and her father while keeping silent, suddenly spoke with shining eyes. Come to think of it, this was the first time she had addressed me since the initial greeting.
"Yes, I believe so."
I nodded vaguely in affirmation. Instantly her eyes grew even brighter.
"If I can be of help to His Highness Ryutis, there could be no greater honor."
Her tone rose noticeably. Color began to return to that rigid face.
Sensing something off, I glanced at Villar. He was quietly exhaling a long sigh. Ah. So that was it.
She had a different goal all along.
Ferosa might well have felt filial love for her father. She might have wanted to help the man toiling far from home.
But from the look on her face right now, the decisive reason she had come to the Empire was something else entirely.
A devotee, then.
She had rushed here to serve her beloved prince. And since the officer in charge of the escort mission happened to be Villar, she had come with an even lighter heart.
The first-impression bonus I had just given her was now in serious danger. Following Ryutis had made her just as reckless and headstrong. She really did not need to inherit that part.
"You seem to hold His Highness Ryutis in high regard."
Two pairs of eyes locked onto me at once.
Villar's startled gaze, Ferosa's eyes full of excitement. Both faces still nearly expressionless—like father, like daughter.
"Of course. His Highness Ryutis is—"
Shit.
I already knew I had poked the wrong subject.