A Mother's Welcome
The moment I saw Mother, I pulled her into an embrace and apologized for how late I had come. Father had marched with me, and my lovers had confessed everything in a rush—yet all Mother had received was a brief message through a communication orb. Work had left me no choice, but even so I had been every bit the burning filial son.
And yet when Mother stroked my shoulder, even that guilt and devotion flinched. If this world had offered personal injury insurance, that particular joint would have made me a junior Golden Duke by now, the way it had been abused. Lately the abuse had gone past occupational hazard and straight into workplace fatality.
So I startled for a second under her touch, then forced myself to relax. I had never told her about the wound, so I was simply being hypersensitive—
"It's all right. Getting treated was more important than forcing yourself to come while you were still hurt."
...Never mind. That wasn't hypersensitivity. That was pure instinct screaming a warning.
I swallowed without meaning to. Mother's voice was gentle, yet goosebumps raced down my arms.
I never said a single word.
Confusion washed over me. Someone who absolutely should not know the truth I had meant to keep hidden somehow already knew it.
I ran through the possibilities at speed, and my thoughts landed on Father. I had never asked why he had been banished—out of respect for his honor and dignity—but the situation made the answer obvious.
He got caught.
The thoroughly unpleasant incident in which he had fought on the front lines, lost his right arm, and lost the use of his left. He and I had decided to hide it as long as we reasonably could and only speak of it at a proper time. Right after the war we would simply enjoy the joy of coming home alive; once enough time had passed we would tell the truth.
Father, however, had been found out at light speed, and Mother's fury had apparently earned him an exile order. That much was certain.
I survived.
Pity and relief arrived together. Fortunately I had already confessed to my lovers. Mother had not been the one to break the news of my injury; they already knew it from my own mouth. There was no risk of being flayed alive for hiding it the way Father had.
The remaining problem was that Mother had learned the truth through some route other than me. Still, I had the same excuse I had used at the Academy: I had wanted to tell her face to face. And I had, in fact, told the lovers who had actually seen my face. The story held water.
"Thank you for understanding. Thanks to your consideration, Mother, I'm perfectly fine now."
I answered in the most natural tone I could manage—as though I had never intended to keep silent, as though I had nothing to feel guilty about.
"What did I even do..."
It seemed to work; Mother murmured the words with a little moisture in her voice.
The sight made my chest tighten. Even now, after time had passed, she sounded like this. How much must her insides have burned when she first learned of the injury? And still she had waited all this time without ever contacting me.
"I must have wanted to see you so badly that I recovered faster than usual. It's all thanks to you, Mother."
In truth I had been completely healed the moment the mages treated me, but from today onward I would credit Mother. I decided that firmly while pretending not to notice the nanny's fond gaze.
"My dear. I know you're happy to see Karl after so long, but the other children have come as well. Perhaps we should go inside."
Father's voice arrived from behind me. Mother fell silent for a moment—just a moment.
Maybe it was my imagination. Even though everything was happening behind my back, I could somehow picture Father breaking into a cold sweat and Mother glaring at him without a word. It felt as if eyes had sprouted on the back of my head without my noticing. Or perhaps I had awakened Observation Haki.
"You're right. We have precious guests and I was being thoughtless."
Mother broke the silence that had felt like an eternity and carefully stepped out of my arms.
"Billy. The master of the house is supposed to be the one welcoming the guests, not standing among them."
"My thoughts were short and I made a mistake. Forgive me."
She scolded him, yet the words were practically a declaration that his exile was over. Father walked over to her side with light steps.
Father...
I was starting to feel tears coming on. Outside the house he was an Imperial Count trusted by the Emperor, a hardened warrior. Inside the house he was a hopeless wife-pleaser who turned to putty around his spouse. Were the two images allowed to be that extreme?
And if a man with only one wife ended up like this, what fate awaited me with six?
Maybe I should buy a secret villa or something.
Unfortunately my wives all lived in different places, so there was nowhere convenient to flee.
The atmosphere inside the castle was light and lively, nothing like the last time I had visited just before marching off to war.
Of course it was. Back then we had been seeing off the head of the house, the heir, and the territory's private troops as they left for the battlefield. Now we had returned victorious. The private troops had even suffered few casualties, so everyone could celebrate without restraint.
"Congratulations on receiving your title. I suppose I must call you 'Your Excellency' now rather than Young Master."
"Just keep calling me Young Master. I'm still a Crassius; that hasn't changed."
The steward's belated congratulations drew a short laugh from me.
An already-titled noble receiving an additional title was one thing; a mere son of the house receiving a title of his own was something else entirely. The latter was practically the glory of the entire family, yet the war had swallowed every mention of it. Congratulations had never even been spoken. That was why I was only receiving them months after the fact.
Perhaps that was why the title still felt foreign. Even when writing my full name I kept putting down Karl Crassius instead of Karl Crassius of Wiridia.
"I'm relieved. I was rather worried you might decide to branch off after receiving the title."
"The heir, branch off? What nonsense."
"Haha, true enough. A foolish thought on my part."
He let out a quiet sigh of genuine relief.
What was that about? I had no intention of leaving for a branch house, but even if the heir changed it shouldn't really matter to the steward. He served Father, the Count of Crassius, not me.
He caught the puzzled look I gave him and continued with a bitter smile.
"Even though you spend most of your time in the capital, the amount of territorial work you handle is hardly small. If you left, I would be the one forced to fill the gap."
The words were both horrifying and entirely convincing; I found myself nodding.
Of course Erich would eventually take my place if I bolted, but until he finished his heir education and could pull his own weight, the steward would be left performing a one-man tearful show. Truly a nightmare.
"...I'll take the Tailglehen countship as well, so don't worry."
"That is most reassuring. Thank you."
"And if the day ever comes when I part ways with you, Steward, I could always make you steward of the Wiridia countship as we—"
The steward's expression turned completely serious in an instant.
Sorry. It was meant as a joke, but even I could see it had crossed the line.
While Karl stepped back to speak with the steward of Tailglehen County, we escorted Father-in-law and Mother-in-law along the corridor.
"The last war dragged on for two whole years, so I couldn't help worrying this one might be the same. But I held my tongue—I was afraid that simply speaking the fear aloud might unsettle those who were about to leave on such a long road."
"I understand, Mother. I felt the same way."
I nodded at the honest feelings Mother-in-law finally voiced.
I truly did understand. When Karl left for the North I had thought exactly the same things. What if the war stretched on for years again? What if I graduated and still never saw him? The fear had been real.
"Yes. Mar was born into a martial house, so of course you understand."
Mother-in-law spoke with warm eyes, then casually turned her head toward Father-in-law.
The warmth in those eyes cooled by the tiniest fraction.
"Martial men never understand the hearts of those left behind. I can't resent the people risking their lives on the field, yet sometimes I still feel a little bitter."
The words were more lethal than open cursing; Father-in-law quietly lowered his gaze.
It was awkward. As a daughter-in-law I ought to mediate between my parents-in-law, yet Mother-in-law's feelings were so perfectly understandable that I had no idea what to say. The martial men of House Valenti were every bit as blunt and rough, which only made it worse.
"I-I'm sorry, Mother."
Sister Penelia was the one who broke the chilly stalemate. At the words of Karl's lover—who had marched with him—Mother-in-law's face showed a flash of realization and she hurriedly soothed her.
"Not at all. I know how hard you worked to protect that child. There is nothing for you to apologize for."
"No. I failed to protect him properly, and he was injured..."
As the bitter self-reproach continued, Mother-in-law gently drew Sister Penelia into her arms. I wasn't supposed to feel this way in such an atmosphere, yet the sight of her comforting a daughter made me a little envious.
"Don't say such things. No one has the right to blame a person who did their absolute best—not even that person themselves."
Having spoken, Mother-in-law let out a small sigh.
"My husband and son's mouths are both so heavy... I suppose I should be grateful that at least my daughters-in-law are honest..."
At that, I and everyone else could only offer bitter smiles. Few statements had ever earned such immediate agreement.
Still, right now I needed to defend Karl and Father-in-law. There had been a reason they hadn't spoken through the communication orb at once. They had wanted to say it face to face rather than deliver the news through a crystal.
"Karl said he kept it secret because it was something he wanted to say while looking at your face. He intended to tell you first, so please understand, Mother."
"First?"
Mother-in-law tilted her head, and her gaze swung back toward Father-in-law.
"Billy. What is this about? That's not what I was told."
?
"Didn't you say we would let time pass and speak of it naturally so we wouldn't worry anyone by bringing up old matters?"
???
My mind went blank. What was she saying right now?
Karl had definitely told us the moment he saw us that he intended to speak the truth, and he had done exactly that.
"...So the boy had other thoughts as well."
While Mother-in-law pressed Father-in-law, Sister Beatrix murmured in a low voice.
"Originally he meant to hide it from us the whole time, but he realized it would come out anyway and hastily changed his mind."
"Ah..."
Without meaning to, my eyes found Karl, who was still walking behind us with the steward.
Even though he had ultimately told the truth, the knowledge that he had even briefly decided to hide something so important filled me with indignation.
Wow.
This is a complete mess.
That was the thought that arrived by pure instinct. The lord of the house was being interrogated by Mother, while my older brother was surrounded by his future sisters-in-law and subjected to something that was not officially a hearing yet very much felt like one.
It was a spectacle. The fact that both disasters could unfold in the same space at the same time bordered on the miraculous.
"Have the men of Crassius been cursed or something..."
I muttered without thinking, and felt a pointed stare.
It was Sera.
"What is it?"
"...Nothing. Just... if there is a curse, it seems like a fairly strong one."
"Right?"
Even an outsider saw it the same way.
How truly pitiful.