How Time Flies - 1
Whenever my brother caused some incident or found himself at the center of an affair, the attention spilled over onto me as well. No—if anything, I got more of it. After all, precious few people were brave enough to speak to him directly.
It was the sort of thing that could wound a man's pride, but I'd been through it often enough since entering the Academy that it barely registered anymore. Honestly, even I would have gravitated toward the relatively approachable younger brother rather than the terrifying older one.
These days I'd even reached a state of enlightenment about the attention, choosing to take it positively. I simply had the kind of soft, decent face that made people feel comfortable striking up a conversation. With both the family head and my brother sporting those rigid expressions, it was only right that at least one of us looked normal.
But the present situation was not something I could laugh off.
It stings.
The gazes that had been stabbing into me without end for the past few days nearly made me scratch the back of my head. I never knew a mere stare could weigh this heavily.
I wish someone would just talk to me already.
And I was freshly reminded that silent stares were far more oppressive than active questions.
Still, there was nothing to be done. From the perspective of noble heirs who were sensitive to rumors, this particular incident was too awkward and burdensome for them to open their mouths lightly.
Godfather, and now Minister.
A dry laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
Academy students were a peculiar breed—possessing both the noble instinct that bristled at the appearance of a heavyweight and the boundless curiosity of teenagers. For students like that to merely watch and wait? It meant this matter was so enormous that no ordinary noble could handle it.
I understood. No matter how famous a figure who set the political and social worlds ablaze, once their stature surpassed a certain level, people grew afraid to even speak their name. The imperial family and the dukes were classic examples. One grew extremely careful lest some casual remark offend so exalted a presence.
Unfortunately, my brother had become exactly that. A war hero, godfather to the Imperial Grandson, and the youngest minister-designate. Having seized at once honors most people would be lucky to claim once in a lifetime, he had—for the moment, at least—risen to a level comparable to a duke.
Time to get out of here.
After a brief deliberation, I stood up. The moment I started thinking of myself not as "the approachable younger brother" but as "the brother of someone on par with a duke," simply remaining in my seat felt apologetic. Sure enough, the students nearby put distance between us the instant I rose.
Avoiding them was the right call for now. Until the rumors settled a little, I would stay alone as much as possible.
I arrived at the safest, quietest place in the entire Academy.
"…So that's why you came here?"
"Yeah."
At my firm reply, my brother let out a sigh that said he had no choice in the matter.
"Fine, whatever. There's nothing strange about a club member being in the clubroom. Make yourself comfortable."
The owner's permission put me at ease. I had been half-worried he might kick me out on the grounds that "the clubroom is only open during club hours."
Yes—that worry had been excessive from the start. My brother had a stiff face, but he was hardly a man without warmth. And he was certainly not the type to drive out a younger brother who had become a wanderer because of him, of all people.
"So how bad was it that you ran all the way here?"
"I feel like I've used up a lifetime's worth of stares."
I answered with complete sincerity as he tilted his head and asked.
Anyone listening would call it exaggeration, but I meant every word. If gazes possessed physical force, my head would already have a hole in it.
"Oh dear."
Whether my sincerity had reached him or not, my brother shook his head with a look of pity and regarded me with sympathetic eyes.
I was grateful, and yet somehow it made me furious. My only understanding ally was the very culprit of the incident. What kind of joke was that?
"Still, it's good to get used to the attention early. I've heard that once you become an assemblyman, you'll draw interest for all sorts of reasons."
"Is that something you should be saying?"
I reacted more sharply than I intended to what was essentially a curse dressed up as advice. My brother, realizing a beat too late that he had misspoken, casually averted his gaze.
I glared at him with resentment, then looked weakly up at the ceiling.
Diet proxy.
A sigh escaped me. Buried under the titles of godfather and minister, it had drawn relatively little notice, but my brother was soon scheduled to inherit the Countship of Tailglehen as well. He would become one of only thirty Imperial Counts in the Empire—and, with the exception of Sister Zenobia, the youngest Imperial Count currently serving.
The problem was that the soon-to-be Imperial Count was a high-ranking official in the administration. He was in no position to take up the Imperial Diet seat that was both the right and the duty of an Imperial Count. As a result, the family head was serving as Diet proxy for now—but a retired family head could not serve as proxy for the rest of his life, could he?
Diet proxy the moment I graduate.
I resented it. I resented my brother for not performing the assemblyman's duties himself and dumping them on me.
In truth it was only fair to say that my brother, grinding away in the administration, was not at fault—but I resented him anyway. If this feeling grew any larger, I might even start resenting the family head who was handing over the title.
My life…
I nearly teared up. I had steeled myself for a future in which I would eventually serve as an assemblyman because my brother was a high official in the administration—but I had thought that would be twenty years away at the earliest. In those twenty years I had wanted to do whatever I pleased, carve through mountains, the whole lot.
Hoping for a younger sibling even now was probably too shameless a thought, wasn't it? Better that my brother have a child and let that child serve as proxy—that would be fast—
"Ah."
My brother's voice cut through my reverie.
"Come to think of it, the Count of Horfelt asked me to give you her regards."
"Sister Zenobia?"
"Yeah. And she said if you're fretting a lot about the Diet proxy business, to contact her—she'll counsel you—"
I heard nothing of what he said after that. Touched by Sister Zenobia's kindness, my ears simply shut down.
Ever since she had visited the Club Expo, we had exchanged messages from time to time, and even after the war ended I had not forgotten to send her a greeting of well-wishes and congratulations. With Uncle Georg returning safely, it was only natural for a childhood friend. I had also found it odd that the uncle was wandering around the Imperial Capital rather than Horfelt County, so I had asked about that as well.
At any rate, even though we had been in contact, I had never mentioned the Diet proxy matter to her. It was too recent, and it felt embarrassing to tell a sitting assemblyman something like "I don't want to be a Diet proxy."
Sister…
And yet Sister Zenobia had worried about me first and sent her regards. She stood in stark contrast to my own flesh-and-blood brother, who had simply offloaded the heavy burden onto me.
That was why, as if entranced, I took out the communication orb from my coat.
If I did not express this gratitude, I did not think I could bear it.
I set down my pen for a moment and stretched. Sitting at my desk since morning had left my body stiff and sore.
I found myself wondering how my father—a warrior down to his very bones—had ever managed this kind of paperwork. The man could not sit still for a second and was always out roaming; and he had done this not for a day or two, but for more than ten years?
He must have endured a great deal all that time.
A small laugh escaped me as I turned the thought over alone. Having endured more than a decade as an Imperial Count, he was finally free to roam outside without rest.
That same vitality was what had driven him to stand on the front lines in person—an infuriating fact—but—
"How could I stand by while a friend was fighting with his own hands? And a friend who might even become family by marriage, at that."
"……."
"Of course, breaking my promise was my fault. So I swear to you. From now on, neither I nor that fellow will ever, ever have reason to stand on a front line again."
Having heard Father's circumstances, it was not as though I could find no grounds to accept them—
"Come to think of it, I saw Uncle in the Imperial Capital too. The war is over, and yet he still seems to be working so hard."
—and since Erich had subtly taken Father's side as well, I decided to let it go.
When the father I loved, and the Erich I loved, both spoke that way, how could I ignore them? I had been angry with Father, yes—but the very reason for that anger had been that he had nearly come to harm fighting in person.
I had grown angry for Father's sake, so for Father's sake I would set the anger aside. It was only natural.
He'll keep quiet for a while, at least.
And honestly, I held no expectation that Father would quietly obey only my words from now on. As long as he stayed quiet for a while, that would be enough. Given the experience of being driven out by his own daughter, he would restrain himself for a few months, at least.
…He will restrain himself, right?
Just as a creeping unease began to rise, the communication orb on my desk lit up.
I frowned at once. My acquaintances knew I was working at this hour and would not contact me, and I usually spoke with Erich on weekends. That left only work-related contact by process of elimination.
"This is the Count of Horfelt."
"Sister, it's me."
The face that appeared next made me freeze with the communication orb still in my hand.
"Sorry. Bothering you in the middle of work, aren't I?"
At the sight of Erich smiling awkwardly, I hastily shook my head.
"No, it's fine. I was taking a break just now."
"That's a relief."
At the same time, my mind raced.
What was this? Erich almost never contacted me on a weekday. And wasn't this class time? Ah—maybe a break period? No, even so, today was a weekday.
"I just heard from my brother, so I got in touch. Thank you for worrying about me."
Only after those words did I recall the events of a few days prior. On the day Brother Karl's appointment as Minister of the Inspectorate Ministry was announced and his succession as Count of Tailglehen was half-confirmed, I had sent him congratulations. Along with a request that he pass along my regards to Erich, who would be performing the assemblyman's role in his place.
I had sent it in the joy of knowing that the year after next I would be able to spend time in the same place as Erich—and Brother had remembered to deliver the message. I was moved.
"We're practically family. And as a senior assemblyman, worrying about a junior is only natural."
Even so, I kept my reaction as matter-of-fact as possible. Showing too much delight here would only pressure Erich, who was already burdened with the heavy responsibility of serving as Diet proxy.
What he needed now was comfort. I had to make him see me as someone he could rely on.
Good.
As if my choice had been the right one, Erich's expression turned touched. No matter how great the distance, if I could take root in his heart like this—
"I wish Sister were family."
My body froze again.
Reason shouted that the "family" Erich spoke of and the "family" I was thinking of were different things—but my heart began to pound of its own accord.
I watched in silence as Erich and the Count of Horfelt conversed.
It'll work out somehow.
In the end, that was the conclusion I reached. It would work out somehow.
Talking about "family (big sister)" to the Count of Horfelt, whose head was full of becoming "family (wife)," was not a problem I could cover for. If he got bisected over it, that would be natural death, not murder.
No matter how I looked at it, I had done everything I could. For Sera's sake, whose background was weaker than the Count of Horfelt's, and for the Count of Horfelt's sake, who was physically far away, I had given all kinds of advice and assistance. Increasing the time Erich and Sera spent together, increasing the time he spent talking with the Count of Horfelt—anyway, I had tried as hard as possible to avoid a situation where one of them got completely steamrolled.
Do your best.
All that remained now was to leave it to heaven and the parties involved.
Thinking that, I turned my gaze to the communication orb. In truth, overcoming the reality right in front of me was far more important than the future possibility of Erich getting bisected into Eri/ch.
I smiled at the message Beatrix had just sent.
Our Luise… for an original protagonist, she certainly had nerve…
At the sentence that followed, I found myself closing my eyes without thinking.
As Beatrix said, the Magic Department would probably love it—but what was I supposed to do when the final boss was about to crash a kids' party?
Even the priests were going berserk in lockstep.