Not Alone - 2
The sun was slowly sinking, and the students were vanishing one by one. On any ordinary day I would already have been back in the dormitory resting, but today I was still wandering outside.
"…Mother collapsed."
Those were the words Erich carefully let slip the moment club activities ended. Remaining calm after hearing something like that would take the kind of personality only a second prince might possess.
I had half expected it. When I went to war last time, I heard Mother fretted and sank into deep melancholy. And now, only three years after the fighting ended, both her husband and her son were marching off to war side by side? Even someone with nerves of steel would panic.
Still, I never imagined she would actually faint. Or maybe that was only natural—some things you never grow used to.
"The nanny was at a loss too. Even while she was crying, Mother kept calling for you, so of course she had to send for you. But it's not as if you're free either, so she couldn't bring herself to say it. That's how desperate she must have been to ask me."
Erich's words as he scratched his head floated back to me, and I let out a quiet sigh.
I should have gone to the territory on my own before Mother collapsed and started looking for me. Even if the family head was already at her side, even if I had planned to visit before the war… I should have been the first one there. Half-son or not, in a mother's eyes I am still her complete son.
Just as the family head thinks of me as his son.
Damn it.
Lately my head seemed to throb every single day. The worst part was knowing most of that throbbing was my own fault.
I paced in front of the dormitory for a long while before a mage from the family appeared through a teleport circle.
"Young Lord. I have come to escort you."
"Right."
I had urgently contacted the steward and requested a family mage. The continent's greatest mage was right nearby, so I did not strictly need one of our own, but this was something I had to do alone as her son. Calling anyone else would only pour oil on an already burning fire. Telling the Demon Duke or my other lovers that Mother had collapsed would be like delivering a finishing blow to people whose insides were already scorched with worry. One source of anxiety was enough—me.
"How is Mother?"
I asked the mage who was preparing the teleport. His expression darkened a little.
"Thankfully she opened her eyes just before I left, but I was told she is only drinking water."
I bit my lip. At least she was not dehydrated—but that was all. From the sound of it she had been fasting for quite some time.
"She must be waiting. Let's go at once."
"Yes, sir."
I shook off the endless flood of worry and placed my hand on the mage's shoulder.
Better to show my face quickly than waste time fretting.
The moment we arrived at the main gate of the lord's castle I set off at a near run. The servants bowing to the Young Lord's appearance, the knights saluting—none of it properly registered. I barely managed a vague wave of the hand in return.
Of course the household staff were in emergency mode over the mistress's collapse and paid me little mind either. That only made my chest feel tighter.
"Young Lord!"
"Steward."
Before long the steward came rushing toward me.
"Y-you arrived at exactly the right moment. My lady has just now woken—"
"Take me there at once. Is she in her bedchamber?"
"Y-yes!"
With both the family head and the Young Lord essentially stationed in the Imperial Capital, the steward handled most of the territory's affairs. Overburdened yet more than capable, he always maintained a rock-solid composure—yet even he was stammering and openly flustered.
Exactly the right moment, he says.
The words filled me with self-reproach.
I was late. If I wanted to hear that I had come at the perfect time, I should have arrived long ago.
"Young Lord. My lady has only just regained consciousness, so the moment she sees you she will almost certainly be unable to master her emotions. Right now you are the only one who can calm her, so…"
I nodded mechanically as the steward rattled on beside me. In short: Mother was not in a normal state, so no matter what I saw I was not to be shaken, and I was to soothe her as best I could.
I understood perfectly. That was why I had come in the first place.
"And if possible… please persuade her to take even a simple meal."
"I will make sure of it."
The steward exhaled in relief at my answer.
I was going insane. The son having to talk his own mother into eating—just how worn down had she become?
There was no strength left in my body. Even tears refused to come properly now.
"Nia, if you're not going to eat, you at least have to drink water properly."
"I don't feel like it…"
I answered Laura in a cracked voice. I lacked the strength even to shake my head or open my mouth. I simply wanted to lie down and sleep again.
Besides, I had already drunk enough. Three glasses ought to be fine.
"You've spilled more than you've drunk, you know. Drink it already."
At my dismissive reaction Laura quietly turned her face away so I could not see it.
I heard her heavy sigh, but she did not force my head around or anything of the sort. My condition was so poor that even she was restraining herself.
"Karl is coming, you know. Are you going to greet him looking like that? Do you really want to show your son—who's about to leave for the battlefield—this haggard face?"
Instead she chose the most effective persuasion of all.
"Karl… is coming?"
I slowly turned my head toward her. Karl. Was that child really coming?
"Yes. The steward sent a mage to the Academy a little while ago. Teleportation takes no time at all, so he should be here soon."
With that, Laura held out a glass of water as if daring me to refuse after hearing the news.
"…I'll drink it."
Of course I would. A mother could not show her child a sickly face.
"Ah."
"Ah."
But the moment I tried to bring the glass to my lips, I lost my grip. Luckily it landed on the blanket and did not break, yet the blanket was completely soaked.
Cold. It was already summer—why was I so cold?
"Sera finally gets better and now you're the problem."
Laura muttered in disbelief, and I could not bring myself to lift my head.
In truth Laura must be suffering just as much as I was. The woman who had cherished Karl like her own child could not possibly be fine.
"I'll get a fresh blan—"
Knock knock.
"Mother, it's Karl. May I come in?"
Karl's voice cut through Laura's words, and both our gazes flew to the door at once.
Laura hurriedly lifted the wet blanket.
"Y-Young Lord, please wait just a moment."
"Head Maid? Is something wrong inside?"
"N-no, my lady is changing!"
Laura blurted the strange excuse, stuffed the soaked blanket into a corner, and flung a spare one over me.
Though I had had no strength left in my body, I covered myself with the blanket in an instant. I could not let Karl—who had come after hearing I collapsed—see me under a wet blanket.
"You may enter now."
The moment she confirmed I was covered, Laura spoke toward the door.
Yet something oddly urgent in her tone must have made him suspicious, because Karl gave no reply at first.
"Then I'll come in."
Fortunately the door soon slid open and Karl entered carefully. His hair was a little disheveled from the rush, and the worry filling his face made my eyes burn.
Strange. I thought I had no tears left, yet seeing him brought them back.
All I do is worry him.
Of course I knew exactly why I was like this.
Because of the self-loathing. The one who should be heading to the battlefield was Karl. The one who should want to cry was Karl. The one who needed comfort was Karl. Yet this worthless mother was stealing her son's grief. Instead of comforting and soothing her son, she was making him worry and shedding tears in front of him.
"Mother, are you all right?"
Even now it was the same. Whether he still regarded this wretched woman as his mother or not, Karl approached and asked after me first.
"Karl…"
"Yes, Mother. I'm right here."
"Karl, Karl… my baby…"
I kept calling his name and took his hand.
It was rough. A hand that had suffered through endless training, through war, through life as Audit Department Chief. Born into a noble house, yet so terribly worn.
And only after holding that hand did the thought strike me. How long had it been since I last held this child's hand tenderly? Had I ever done so at all?
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, so very, very sorry…"
Tears fell drop by drop onto the back of his hand. I knew I had no right, yet I could not stop. I knew that the more I did this the more I troubled him, yet I continued.
"A mother who… can't even be of any help to her son…!"
A son dragged to war not once but twice. What on earth had I ever done for that son?
If—just if, though it must never happen—if today were the last time I could see Karl, would I remain a good mother in his memory? Would this child remember me as a good mother?
Lying in bed I had kept thinking those thoughts. When I fell into a faint-like sleep I even dreamed that something terrible had happened to him.
That was why I gripped his hand tightly. If I let go, it felt as though Karl would leave for a place from which he could never return.
This was awkward. Now I understood why the steward had been so flustered. Mother's condition really was serious.
She clung to my hand and would not let go. She kept repeating that she was sorry. In all my life I had never seen the mistress of the three-hundred-year-old Crassius family, always the picture of noble composure, pour out her emotions like this.
"A mother who… can't even be of any help to her son…!"
Those were probably the words she had kept locked in her heart. Hearing them left me unable to answer.
I, this half-son, had never properly treated her as a mother, so why was the mother who had lost her real son the one blaming herself?
Damn it.
I looked down at the hand she held. Calling it a grip was almost embarrassing—the force was so weak. One light tug and it would slip free at once.
Yet it was strange. Why did such a feeble strength feel so powerful?
When Tala had me by the throat I had cut off my own wrist and escaped. So why could I not break free of this weak hold now?
It made no sense.