Making the Anniversary Certain - 3
What makes a good birthday present? The person who could solve that dilemma was closer than I expected.
Advice from someone with experience is always best.
Mother. Mother was right there. She had already married the family head and stood as living proof of a marriage that had lasted more than twenty years.
In all that time, the gifts they must have exchanged could not have been few. No matter how blunt, strict, solemn, and serious the family head was, he would have given his wife at least a few presents.
If I simply referred to what Mother had received, choosing a gift would be simple. I could not understand why I had agonized so long over such an easy problem.
"Gifts…"
But the moment I saw Mother's face as she seriously pondered the question, anxiety rushed over me.
Had he never given her a single one? Truly? If he had neglected his wife like that, her family would never have stayed silent. Had the family head really committed such a blunder?
Maybe I shouldn't have asked.
Cold sweat ran down my back. I wondered whether my careless question had prodded the long-held grudge of a woman who had gone more than twenty years without receiving even one gift.
"A young lady will be happy with whatever she receives. Everything I ever got from Billy made me happy too."
"Is that so?"
Fortunately the answer that came was thoroughly reassuring, and I let out a breath of relief. She had not been struggling because she had received nothing; she had simply found it hard to choose which one to mention.
"Yes. Billy gave me a great many things, and every single one of them was truly precious."
Watching Mother smile softly, I felt a little puzzled. If she could speak that way, she must have received quite a lot, yet the idea of the family head launching such a gift offensive still astonished me.
I simply could not picture it. The best I could imagine was him bringing home a raw gemstone from some mine and claiming, "I just picked this up on the way."
"Still, there must have been one that left a particularly strong impression, right?"
"Hmm."
I deliberately brushed aside thoughts of the family head and opened my mouth again.
I had not contacted her for the bland advice that "anything would be fine." Of course Margeta would be happy with whatever she received. She still carried around the fan I had given her last year.
Even so, this was my first birthday gift to her. I wanted to give her something truly memorable, something she could never forget.
"There is one, I suppose."
My body naturally leaned toward the communication crystal.
Yes, of course there was. No matter how much she claimed to love every gift, there was always one that stood out in the memory.
"On our first wedding anniversary, Billy suddenly took me somewhere."
Mother closed her eyes for a moment as if recalling the scene. A faint smile still lingered on her lips; it must have been a rather pleasant memory.
"He gave me a little hill—one covered entirely in the flowers I love—as a present."
"Pardon?"
What the hell. What did I just hear?
"And for the fifth birthday I celebrated after we married, he outdid himself. A rather famous designer had just opened a new shop in the Imperial Capital, and he bought the entire place for me."
"Ah… yes…"
This time the claim was just as hard to believe. I had heard of people buying "everything from here to there," but never of someone purchasing the shop itself.
Wait—so that designer opened for business and went out of business on the same day?
"The designer also signed a lifelong contract with House Crassius. Even now he still handles the clothing for Billy and me, so it remains a lasting gift."
Well, that was a relief at least…
I could only nod blankly as Mother, wearing a warm smile, poured out memory after memory.
"And most recently—"
There's more?
Strange. The image of the family head I held inside me was growing more and more grotesque.
I had always pictured a man who would bleed molten iron if stabbed, yet in reality he had been pulling stunts that would never even appear in a soap opera from the 2000s.
"My lady."
"Ah."
The longer Mother spoke, the more my mind reeled. Fortunately the head lady-in-waiting intervened and managed to cut short the endless parade of reminiscences.
Mother, who stopped speaking a beat late, gave a small cough as if embarrassed at having flaunted her sticky marital bond in front of her son. Honestly, though, I could no longer remember half of what I had just heard.
"…You must have been very happy."
A brief silence. I was the one who broke that awkward quiet. Mother might have been the one who ran wild, but I had provided the spark.
At my words she smiled once more.
"I was embarrassed."
"Pardon?"
After speaking so proudly, she suddenly said that?
"At the time I really was embarrassed. I would have been perfectly content with a quiet bouquet, yet suddenly there came a whole hill, a whole shop—grand gestures one after another."
Yet despite the word "embarrassed," Mother's voice remained calm.
"But if even I, the one receiving them, felt embarrassed, how do you think Billy, the one giving them, must have felt? Karl, does Billy strike you as an affectionate man?"
"No."
My firm reply drew a bitter smile from Mother, yet she nodded in agreement.
"Exactly. He doesn't. Yet that same Billy worried over me, then forced himself past his own embarrassment to give those gifts. What I received from him was not mere material things, but his time and his sincerity."
"…"
Not material things, but time and sincerity.
In other words, she had been happy because she knew he had agonized over her.
"Was that of any help?"
"Of course."
When I stayed silent, Mother asked carefully.
Honestly, it had not been especially useful advice. In the end it amounted to little more than "If you choose carefully, she will like anything."
Still, it was advice she had offered wholeheartedly to a son who had contacted her out of the blue. I could not call such advice useless. Besides, Mother herself seemed to have been happier about the family head's sincerity than about anything else.
"I will prepare something with all my heart as well."
"Good. She will surely be delighted."
I hoped so.
After ending the call I sank back into thought. In the end I had gone in a circle and returned to the starting point. I still had to prepare the gift myself.
Even so, my heart felt a little lighter than before. I had let go of the obsession that the present absolutely had to be special and unforgettable.
Should I just buy her a hill too?
A mad idea flashed through my head. The family head's parade of eccentricities must have been too vivid, because the notion rose unbidden.
Then, right after it, came the state of my own finances.
…I could probably manage a few of them.
Income rising while expenses fell—the miracle of civil-servant life. Thanks to that, my wealth had multiplied like rabbits.
As vice-head of the house I still could not touch the true assets of the county, but the money I had earned as Audit Department Chief was nothing to scoff at either.
Yet the idea was only a fleeting one. Even if I gave Margeta a hill while she was still at the Academy, she would not be able to see it until after graduation.
And there was an even more decisive problem.
She already owns several hills, doesn't she?
The bleak reality that Margeta was richer than I was.
No matter how high a civil servant's salary, could it ever surpass a ducal house? Moreover, Margeta was the darling of that house, succession order aside. As a child she might have played marbles with gold coins.
Giving a hill to someone like that? She would probably just be delighted at the "cute little present," and I would die of shame.
A kept man.
I even went so far as to think that. A wealthy wife, a husband who could not match her.
Yes. In truth I had been born destined to be a kept man. No wonder the post of Audit Department Chief had always felt so heavy and burdensome. I had simply refused to live according to my natural fate and had taken on a position far beyond me.
…Right?
Fuck.
My head ached again. When the recipient had grown up wanting for nothing, giving a gift became that much harder.
What if I simply offered myself? A free-use ticket for Karl, valid for one entire day?
"Is one day all I get to have you, Karl? Once today ends, will you leave me?"
No. That would backfire spectacularly.
Then something simple: a blank check promising to grant every wish?
"All I wanted was a single flower that carried your true feelings, Karl… Was that too greedy of me…?"
Damn it, that was no good either.
I was going crazy. The best outcome remained invisible while the worst futures sprang up instantly.
Still, maybe I should count myself lucky? At least I could guess the disasters before they exploded.
"When a principal wife goes mad with jealousy, the blades come out at once. Don't treat her like a fish already caught—care for her with affection."
Suddenly the words of the second section chief floated up. In a way they were the original advice that had started this whole dilemma.
Principal wife, jealousy, affection…
Ah.
A rather fine gift idea rose in my mind.
Something that would soothe Margeta's insecurity, the best present I was capable of giving.
I had only made things harder by overthinking.
When my fourth older sister suddenly contacted me, I felt both puzzled and glad. She had given me a great deal of advice about romance. In fact I had benefited from her counsel many times.
Of course Karl and I were already close without any of that advice, but deeper was always better, wasn't it?
I accepted the call lightly—and immediately regretted it.
"Mar. Are you all right?"
Fourth Sister asked worriedly. Yet I could not react in time; I only stared blankly at the communication crystal.
I could not comprehend what I had just heard. I wanted her words to be a tasteless joke. Then I could throw a brief tantrum and forgive her.
But I knew they were not. I knew my sister would never make such a joke. That was why I could say nothing at all right now.
"Sister…"
"Yes, Mar. Go on."
When I finally managed to open my mouth, she hurriedly nodded.
"W-what am I supposed to… do in a situation like this?"
My mind would not turn at all. I had no idea how to handle this.
I had not even known Karl had gone to the Imperial Capital. That much I could overlook. It might have been official business he had to keep secret, or something he could finish quickly and so left without a word.
But what had happened in the capital—I simply could not let that pass.
At the cemetery…
Tears fell before I realized it. I saw my sister fluster, yet I could give no reply.
If Karl had gone to a cemetery, it was obvious whom he would have met. The friends he once said he had lost, and the lover as well.
Jealousy—no. I was a little sad that I was not the first love of the person I loved, but I was not so far gone as to feel jealousy toward someone already gone. Besides, if I grew jealous, would I try to stop him from visiting the cemetery? That would only hurt Karl further.
What truly pained me was that he had collapsed in front of that grave, that a man who never drank had gotten himself so drunk.
He must have been more confused than anyone.
Only then did my mind clear. After the birthday banquet of Her Highness the Crown Princess, I had in fact been terribly anxious. That was why I had hastily pushed Lady Luise and Lady Irina forward.
And though I never showed it, I had resented Karl a little—just a very little. If we had been engaged sooner, none of this would have happened. I would never have had to worry so much.
How selfish.
It was a horribly selfish thought. For a while Karl had smiled as if nothing were wrong, held me, loved me, and I had forgotten. Only a short time had passed since he laid bare the knot in his heart.
The memories of the past, the bonds of the past, still remained inside him. He was still healing those wounds.
And yet…
And yet I had resented him. I should have been grateful simply that he looked at me, yet I had wanted something even greater.
Instead of embracing the Karl who must have been more lost than anyone, instead of comforting him—
I only… resented him…
Why were my thoughts always so shortsighted?
And that day, Karl did not come to the vice-president's office.
That night I too cried alone in bed, stifling every sound.
It was a sad day. There would never be a day sadder than this one.