Anyway, the Year Passes - 6
At last, the academy schedule for the year had come to a complete end.
Students who had spent three years grinding away at the Academy received their diplomas amid the applause of their juniors, and graduates who had grown fairly close to a junior or two exchanged farewells, promising to meet again in high society.
And as if to celebrate and encourage those graduates stepping off the fixed path of the Academy and into branching futures, snow began to fall from the sky. Snow just heavy enough to make the warm atmosphere even brighter; snow just thick enough to leave footprints behind.
"There won't be any more vacations from now on, so go rest properly. This might well be the last real break of your lives."
I, too, exchanged greetings with the graduates whose traces remained as deep as footprints in the snow. Just as a snowfield marked by footprints can never be returned to what it was, the graduates I had carefully selected were precious manpower no one else would be allowed to touch.
So a greeting and a bit of advice were the least I could offer. After all, these kids would be working hard for me from now on. How could I not give them at least that much?
"Yes, sir!"
"I'll keep it in mind!"
Though they seemed to take it as nothing more than a ceremonial farewell.
A pity, really. Just as a high-school senior who has already gotten into university burns body and soul to play, this stretch of time was the last true joy of these kids' lives. Once civil service began, there would be no going back, and vacations would be as rare as beans in a drought.
Can't be helped.
I suppressed the complicated feeling in my chest and patted the shoulders of the bowing future civil servants one after another.
I had given them fair warning and fair advice. Whether they properly took it to heart was up to the listener; I had done my part. If they failed to enjoy this last stretch of freedom and simply walked straight into civil service, that would be their own lot in life.
That was how I decided to think of it.
"Karl!"
Just then Mar, who had finished her own farewells with other graduates and juniors, approached from a distance. She did not quite run—perhaps to preserve some dignity—but the way she was waving her right hand with such vigor already put her a long way from dignified.
Of course, even a version of her far from dignified was still pretty, so it was fine. It wasn't her dignity that had made me fall for her in the first place.
"I will do my utmost to repay the Minister's grace!"
"Good. I'll be looking forward to it."
Amelia, who had noticed Mar approaching, gave a small sign that she meant to withdraw. I nodded and let her go. In an instant the future civil servants melted away.
Quick, aren't they?
In their retreating backs I could feel the raw fear of possibly running into Mar.
It was an excessive reaction. Mar was not some cold-blooded, merciless type; she would most likely be glad to see people she had known for three years who would now be working under me. If they met, she would at least offer a warm greeting.
But that was the view from the boss's seat. From the vantage of the lowest of the low, things might look different.
So they're being careful on their own?
Well. There was a time when I myself had been a little reluctant to meet the Crown Princess. Better never to meet the wife of a superior so far above you than risk making a fool of yourself in front of her. Without a cause, there is no effect.
"I'm sorry. Am I very late?"
"Not at all."
While I was thinking that, Mar had already reached me. I gently drew her into my arms.
"And even if you were late, it wouldn't matter. We're going to spend the rest of our lives together, after all."
At those words Mar's ears turned red. Whether from the cold or from embarrassment at what I had said, I couldn't tell—though I suspected the latter.
The rest of our lives, huh.
I smiled without meaning to. Now that Mar was free of her student status, marriage was right around the corner.
Yes. I was about to have a lover who shared my family name. Mar would no longer be Margeta Barenti, but Margeta Crassius.
"By this time next year, we'll have a child, won't we?"
As I spoke, I covered her reddened ears with both hands. This time her whole face flushed.
An amusing reaction. Once we married we would naturally have children, yet seeing Mar get flustered at the mere word made me laugh on its own. She was usually so composed—why did she turn shy only at times like this?
"Ka-Karl… which would you prefer, a son or a daughter?"
And the way she kept the conversation going even while bashful only made her cuter.
"As long as the child takes after you and me, either is fine."
I meant it. When a family member of my blood was coming into the world, what did something as trivial as gender matter? If I hoped for anything, it was only that the child be born healthy.
I poured that feeling into a kiss on Mar's forehead. She still wore her red face and a soft, dazed smile.
…She's cold.
That aside, it was time to head indoors. After wandering around in the snow, Mar's body had begun to grow chilly.
I could roll naked through a snowfield and be fine, but Mar could catch a cold.
A sick Mar.
Even for a brief instant, my brow furrowed. Just imagining it was a vile future that made my teeth clench.
The moment we stepped into the now-quiet auditorium, I spotted the club members.
"Brother! Margeta unnie!"
Thanks to Rory flapping both hands and making her presence known, I found them at once. Missing that would have meant something was wrong with my eyesight.
"Are we the last ones?"
"We're only second-years, so there weren't many people we needed to say goodbye to. Don't worry about it."
When I spoke from mild awkwardness, Lin quickly shook her head.
True enough—among us, Mar was the only graduate. Current students only had to see off the graduates they were close to, but Mar had to exchange greetings with classmates and faculty as well. Of course it had taken time.
"Congratulations on your graduation, Lady Margeta."
"Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty."
Following Lin, Ainter spoke, and Mar bowed her head in polite gratitude.
Until now they had maintained the somewhat loose hierarchy of academy seniors and juniors. But the moment Mar left the Academy, their relationship became the clear vertical one of the Emperor's younger brother and a duke's daughter.
"Soon you will be the Countess of Tailglehen, but I shall congratulate you on that when the time comes."
"Yes, Your Majesty. I will wait with a glad heart."
Clear, yes—but not rigid. Two years of shared feeling made that impossible.
Watching Mar and Ainter trade light jokes, I felt a strange emotion. Not jealousy, of course—something closer to wonder.
A year ago I couldn't have imagined this.
The pitiful prince whose full-blooded older brother had fallen in the succession struggle and who had nearly lost his own life with him. A prince who had survived, only to live with his head down, never knowing when the purge's blade might fall.
That same Ainter now stood before the Emperor's closest confidants and major figures from other nations, conversing openly with a member of a ducal house. He could only act this way because he was certain his life was no longer in danger.
That was what made it so strange. When I first came to the Academy I had even received orders to deal with Ainter if the need arose. Nearly two years later, he had become a true member of the imperial family in every sense.
"Do you know why I accepted Ainter? Because I was swayed by emotion."
The Emperor's words suddenly came back to me. He had lamented how emotional his choice had been, yet that very emotion had made this change possible.
…Not bad.
As a leader, chasing emotion is something one should avoid. But if the result of that emotion is the path that saves an innocent blood relative… then perhaps it is all right. That was the thought that came to me.
"Unlike Brother Ainter, I may not have another chance to offer my congratulations. I will pray that Enen's blessing goes with you on the road ahead, my lady."
After Tanian began, the other members spoke up one by one. Ryutis, Later, and Tanian in particular—those who would have little chance to see Mar from now on—spoke at length.
As Tanian said, unlike Ainter, who was of the same empire, those foreigners would never meet the graduated Mar again. There would be no reason for her to visit the Academy, nor for them to seek her out. Of course.
"Thinking this is the last time makes me so regretful. If you send me a wedding invitation, I will drop everything and run straight there."
"The guests would be startled, so that would be a problem. I'll simply take the thought to heart."
I instinctively refused Ryutis's laughing words. If anyone else had said it I might have let it pass as a joke, but with that guy I felt a genuine fear that he might actually show up.
"Then I suppose it can't be helped."
Watching Ryutis shake his head as if disappointed, I became certain. If an invitation had gone out, that bastard would have come for real.
"Instead, I will at least send a gift. Sending an object is easy enough—think of it as a friend's regard and accept it."
"Yes, thank you."
Later, who had been looking at Ryutis with something like pity, spoke next, and only then could I nod.
A royal gift was still a burden, but after the wedding-invitation remark, talk of a gift made him sound like a fairy of mercy.
"Ah, then I'll send one too!"
"…Sure."
And when Ryutis naturally piled on, a reasonable suspicion bloomed.
Was he doing this on purpose? Shock them with talk of attending the wedding, then achieve his real goal of sending a gift?
It was clearly overthinking, yet with Ryutis I found myself half-believing the twisted idea.
Only after the final farewells did the club members begin their journeys home.
Next year will be the end.
Seeing them off, I let out a quiet sigh. Of the three years I had thought of as hell, two had already slipped by. One more year and the members would graduate, and I would finally be free of the Academy.
I wonder what the '79 group will be like.
Unlike the '77 members, the '78 members had been relatively quiet and manageable. This year's group had been weaker than last year's.
So I choose to believe next year's members will make me happy too. Please come back even weaker than this year.
And if that is impossible, at least do not grow stronger.
Let's end the last year well.
Even if the process is miserable, if the result is good, nostalgia will polish the memory. If both process and result are terrible, I think I might end up hating you.
Let's make sure we part with smiling faces.
"Shall we be going as well?"
"Ah… yes."
Just as I was about to pray that light would shine on the year '79, Trixie's call turned me around.
First we would stop by the territory, then head to the Imperial Capital. We had to drop Erich and Sera off at the estate, after all.