Tofu Pilgrimage - 4
I took a bite of the tofu dish Mother had sent, packing it with remorse. Another bite of the health supplements I'd received over the break, this time loaded with repentance. And finally, a sip of the red ginseng extract from the Demon Duke, sealed with a vow that nothing like this would ever happen again.
Thus concluded a breakfast more luxurious than any I had ever known.
This is driving me insane.
I stared blankly at the floor, bitter and hollow. I couldn't bring myself to lift my head under the weight of Mother's warm affection.
A well-meaning gut punch is the most painful kind. If it had been pure mockery—full-on teabagging—I could have at least fought back. But a gift steeped in maternal love left me with no choice but to accept it quietly.
After staring at the floor for a long while, I let my eyes drift to the handwritten letter still clutched in my hand.
The days are growing colder, so always dress warmly. No matter how busy you are, never skip a meal. And if you feel unwell in the slightest, go straight to a priest or a mage.
Not a single word about the detention. Just pure worry for her son. When I noticed the tear stains in the corner and the places where the ink had bled, I seriously considered biting my own tongue.
If I had been her real son instead of a fake one, I would have sprinted home that very instant and prostrated myself in apology. Being a fake was the only reason I managed to hold out.
I need to restrain myself.
I sighed and slipped the letter into a drawer.
No matter how much I insisted on thinking of this family as strangers, from their perspective I was the real thing. The more I lost control and acted out, the more the damage would land on them too.
Right. Just like Section Chief 3 said, the detention had reset the old stack. From now on, I would be careful not to write any more disciplinary reports.
"Damn it."
If I had come to this world through reincarnation instead of possession, would things have been even a little better?
That afternoon, during club hours, a welcome guest stopped by.
"Oppa, are you all right?"
Irina—visiting the Baking Club room for the first time since the second semester began. The moment she saw my face, her greeting carried worry rather than delight.
Her first words weren't "hello," but "are you all right?" I had more or less expected it, and yet it still hurt.
"I'm fine, so don't worry."
I answered with a smile that now came naturally.
I'm fine. I've been well. Don't worry. How many times had I repeated those lines? It felt like I would have to keep them on my lips for the rest of the month.
But I really was fine. I really had been well. If these kids had seen my life inside, they would have thought visiting hours a complete waste of time.
"R-right. Okay."
Irina fidgeted, then nodded with a slightly downcast expression.
I knew why. She probably thought I was forcing the words and was sad on my behalf.
I mean it. I'm fine.
I really was. Honestly, it had been more comfortable than my usual days at the Academy. If you'd been in my shoes, you would've done just fine too.
Of course, I couldn't exactly ask a young schoolgirl, "Want to try it yourself?" so I kept my mouth shut.
"I felt bad coming empty-handed, so I brought a little gift."
After a brief silence, Irina spoke carefully. Instinct made me flinch. A gift? A gift?
Don't tell me.
Ryutis had landed the first blow, Mother the second. My mind was still reeling.
It isn't tofu, right? You're not about to make it three in a row? I cannot take a triple bunker.
"I don't know if you'll like it, but..."
Hesitating, Irina brought forward a flowerpot she had been hiding behind her back. So that was why she had kept her hands out of sight earlier.
A hawthorn sapling in a white pot. White blossoms the same color as the pot were in full bloom, giving off a bright, cheerful air.
The instant I confirmed it was a flowerpot, relief flooded through me. Thank heavens. I had dodged the triple bunker.
"It's the same gift as last time, but... this one grew up so prettily..."
Yet apart from my relief, Irina seemed troubled that she was giving the same present again. Her eyes darted this way and that as her words trailed off.
Needless worry. At this point I could happily accept anything so long as it wasn't tofu. The color white might give me PTSD, but at least I didn't have to eat it.
"It's pretty. You raised it carefully."
When I spoke with a small smile, Irina's cautious eyes flew wide.
"I'll take good care of it too."
"Yes!"
Seeing her bright smile eased a little of the bitterness that had clung to me since morning.
The moment the pot left my hands and settled into Oppa's, a smile rose on its own.
Thank goodness.
I had hesitated again and again while preparing the hawthorn. What if he disliked getting the same gift twice? What if he looked unimpressed?
In the end I chose the hawthorn again. It was unforgettable to me—monumental.
The symbol of the day I let go of my fear and hatred toward him. The symbol of the day I admitted what I felt.
...Unique love.
Even now the flower language made my face burn. I hadn't planned it that way, but it had also been the symbol of my confession to him.
Unfortunately he never noticed and only figured out Luise's feelings instead, but that was fine.
Because I can confess again.
How could an accidental confession even count as a confession?
So I gave him a hawthorn once more. This time of my own will, carrying my heart—my unique love.
He wouldn't notice this time either, but...
It's all right.
I was satisfied. I had confessed to him by choice, not by accident.
Of course I had no intention of stopping here. Someday I would tell him in my own words, not through the roundabout language of flowers. I would work toward that day.
While I watched Oppa's back as he carried the hawthorn toward the window, something prodded my side.
"Luise?"
I turned to find Luise grinning as she jabbed her finger into my ribs.
"So Irina has two loves, does she?"
The playful remark set my face on fire. If there had been a mirror, I would have seen myself tomato-red.
Luise was the only person here who knew the true meaning of the hawthorn. Thankfully she hadn't spread it around, but she did like to tease me like this every so often.
Two loves, though.
That's mean.
Saying it that way made it sound like I liked two different boys. I only liked Oppa.
I stared at her with a sulky pout, but Luise only kept smiling.
...Ah. I just thought of something good.
"Luise. Lean in a second."
I gave a little beckoning gesture. Luise tilted her head curiously but obediently offered her ear.
She could tease others yet never suspect a thing. That innocence was her weakness.
"I'm sooorryyy, I'm sooorryyy... I was wrooong..."
I whispered into her ear in a deliberately clumsy, drawn-out voice—the exact line she had once sobbed in front of me.
The reaction was immediate. Luise's blinking face flushed crimson in an instant, and she clapped a hand over my mouth.
How dare you.
A satisfying result. Who was she to tease someone when her own embarrassing past was even worse?
I smiled with my eyes, thoroughly pleased, and Luise's face turned even redder. With her hand over my mouth, her eyes stood out all the more.
"I'm sorry..."
At last she lowered her hand and offered a tiny surrender. Starting the fight and then surrendering first was a little funny, but I accepted graciously.
I might not look it, but I was the daughter of a baronial house. I had held my own in high society, thank you very much.
"Now we have three pots."
Oppa's voice approached just then, and Luise hastily smoothed her expression.
"Do you like it?"
"A lot."
The question had only been something to buy Luise time to compose herself, but his firm answer drew another smile from me.
I hadn't expected him to like it this much. How wonderful it would have been if he had reacted the same way knowing the flower language.
...Does he know?
The quiet little fantasy made my heart pound for no reason.
What if—what if he had noticed my confession? What if he liked it because he understood? I hoped so...
"I'll raise it well. I hope it lives a long time."
The words sounded to me like a wish that the two of us would live a long time together.
Thanks to Irina, I was able to end the despairing tofu relay.
Thank you, Irina. Even if the day comes when you spit in my face, I will laugh it off. I am truly grateful...
"The more gifts you receive, the better your reputation must be, no? Proof that young Karl has lived a fine life."
"When you put it that way, I do feel better."
I forced a smile at the Duke of Victory's words. If the price of a good reputation was teabagging, I would rather walk the path of a scoundrel.
But I could hardly say that in front of an adult on the verge of a happy occasion, so I held my tongue.
"Think of it that way. Dwelling too much on the past only exhausts a man."
The Duke of Victory seemed pleased with my answer; he chuckled softly. I was glad I had given the right response.
After sharing a brief laugh, he steadied his breath and continued.
"So. You will be attending with Margeta?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
The Crown Princess's birthday banquet was only a few days away. At the very least, knowing who would attend would make preparations easier.
That was why I had told the Duke of Victory I would be attending with Margeta. Surprise guests were fun in fiction; in reality they were a mild nuisance.
"The thought of such a fitting pair gracing the occasion delights me. Thank you, young Karl."
That "thank you" likely carried several meanings.
"The Iron Blood Duke will be glad as well."
"Haha..."
I could only manage an awkward laugh. I had not known the Iron Blood Duke would attend this banquet.
Ever since he had effectively retired, the Iron Blood Duke rarely left his territory except for the New Year's Audience. I had assumed this time would be no different.
Of all timings.
Why did he have to come now? I already knew exactly what he would say the moment he saw me.
"I never saw you kneel, boy. So why are you with Mar?"
The automatic playback of that voice made my hands and feet tremble.
I had planned to head straight to the Iron Blood Duke's castle after the New Year's Audience. I was going to kneel and beg his permission for the marriage with Margeta. Given his character—he always kept his word—I would need to show him that before I could be with her.
But running around with Margeta before completing that process? I was about to experience with my entire body exactly why he was called the Iron Blood Duke.
...It'll work out somehow.
Yes. Somehow. Surely he wouldn't fold his prospective son-in-law's waist in half right in front of his precious youngest daughter.
Honestly, my limbs might be in danger, but I could probably protect my spine.
"I truly did not expect the Iron Blood Duke to attend as well."
I let a little lament slip into my voice at the thought of a banquet already destined to break something. The Duke of Victory let out a hearty laugh.
"Dear me. The Demon Duke is coming too—if you're already startled, what will you do then?"
"Pardon?"
You've got to be kidding me.
The Demon Duke is coming too?
If the Iron Blood Duke was a Mythical Pokémon, the Demon Duke was a Legendary one. Even during the New Year's Audience she only showed her face for a single day before returning to the Magic Tower.
And now she was going to appear at a mere banquet that wasn't even the New Year's Audience?
...What on earth is going on?
Had something happened in the Imperial Capital without my knowing?