The Master's Duty -1-
Hanna clenched her fist as she looked at Rowen. She couldn't understand why her father was here at the academy so late at night. It wasn't a welcome face. Every time she saw him, the nightmare of that blue spear she had witnessed that day came rushing back, making her want to avoid him. And at her father's voice calling her in that unusually gentle tone he never used before, Hanna awkwardly lowered her head in greeting.
"Dad... no, Father."
Rowen stood silently, watching Hanna, who still gripped her sword. Her defiance irritated him, and the illusion he'd seen that day haunted him like a nightmare, leaving him frozen in place, just staring at her.
Hanna asked Rowen. She had to voice her curiosity before leaving. Going back to the dorm without knowing anything would be as good as not sleeping at all tonight, so she clenched her fist tighter and opened her mouth toward him.
"What brings you here?"
He must have come in person because the letters weren't enough, Hanna thought. After the clash between Ricardo and her father at the mansion last time, the letters demanding she quit swordsmanship had stopped, but her father wasn't one to give up his stubbornness easily. Knowing his unyielding resolve, Hanna steadied her trembling heart and waited for his answer.
"...No greeting for your old man?"
At Rowen's bitter mutter, Hanna hardened her expression and replied.
"Yes."
"Cold-hearted."
"Not as cold as what you did to me."
"..."
Rowen nodded at Hanna's icy retort. It was a fact he couldn't deny, and he had no regrets about his harshness. To him, regretting the past was pointless. The only thing nagging at him was the suspicion that someone had influenced his daughter's sudden change in attitude.
Rowen's mind flashed to one man at her curt response—a man with red hair, unnaturally strong for his age, whom he regarded with displeasure.
Do you want to be buried in a sunny spot, old man? Arrogant bastard who doesn't know his place. That guy with unfathomable strength must be the one who changed Hanna.
Forcing a wry smile at his daughter's cold words, Rowen tried to lighten the heavy mood. He didn't want to get angry today. It had been a while since he'd seen his daughter, and he had things he wanted to say. His worry about making her give up the sword hadn't faded either.
Hanna was talented. He hated to admit his eyes had been wrong, but her results had proven it clearly. Still, Rowen couldn't shake the fear from the illusion he'd seen that day. He didn't want to experience losing someone again.
His wife had been badly hurt once. Because of his arrogance and fragile pride. Seeing her still suffer the aftereffects tore at his heart every time, and he couldn't imagine the pain if he lost his daughter too.
He had been harsh, yes, but out of love. He'd only learned to charge toward family revival, not how to show warmth, so he'd passed down the same brutal education he'd endured as a child—and even that was far milder than his own trials.
He'd accepted the academy's invitation partly to talk with Hanna again. Though there were other motives, speaking with his daughter was the main one.
Steeling his complicated feelings, Rowen spoke to her.
"I've been invited as a temporary instructor at the academy. To teach the young sprouts."
"...You're going to teach others when you wouldn't even teach me?"
Hanna bit her lip. Her sanctuary had been invaded by her father, and it terrified her.
A brief silence fell, and Mikhail, sensing the awkward tension, bowed to Rowen to escape it.
"I'll head in first. Master."
No sooner had the words left Mikhail's mouth than Hanna's face twisted in disbelief. She couldn't process what she'd just heard. After all the abuse and persecution he'd inflicted on her, never once sparring with her, and now he called him Master?
With trembling eyes, Hanna looked back and forth between Rowen and Mikhail.
"Did you just call him Master...?"
Her tightly clenched fist was turning blue. Mikhail's eyes darted nervously under her glaring stare, as if she might lunge at him any second.
Rowen answered Hanna's question flatly.
"Things happened while you were away."
"Is that your excuse right now?"
"Yes."
As Rowen spoke bluntly, like it was just doing what needed to be done, Hanna clenched her fist and listened.
"Malik says he won't take the family heir position."
"...What?"
"He said he has a dream. A ridiculous one."
Rowen recalled his eldest son's face from his recent visit to the study.
"I'll give up the vice-head position."
"...What did you say?"
"You have a sister to replace me. She wants it too... Sword training is all there is to heir education anyway."
"I can't understand that. Do you think I'll indulge your stubbornness?"
"It's a hard decision. I learned a lot watching Hanna."
Thinking of Malik's refreshed expression, like he'd found a shortcut through countless crossroads, Rowen continued.
"Why won't any of you listen to me? Do I sound like a joke?"
Hanna's shoulders twitched at Rowen's irritated words. Again. His habit of crushing others when things didn't go his way. Most people cowered under his stubbornness. She had too. She'd thought she'd overcome it, but Hanna still feared Rowen.
Looking at Hanna with her lips sealed tight, Rowen brought up what had happened.
"Malik said he'd prove himself like you. Even though I haven't acknowledged it yet."
"I never wanted your acknowledgment anyway. You weren't going to give it."
"..."
"What I want to know is what you said to my brother..."
Hanna clenched her fist and asked Rowen. She'd heard bits of her brother's dream. Knowing his wish to etch his brand on 'every item in the streets' was extravagant but sincere, she spoke in a trembling voice.
"Did you tell him to quit like you did to me?"
"...Hanna Histania."
Rowen's warning, full name included. Even as his father signaled he wouldn't tolerate more insolence, Hanna pushed on stubbornly. No matter how scary he was, some dreams couldn't be trampled.
Hers had been crushed by his hand, but she didn't want the same for her brother—the first to apologize to her, the blood kin who'd filled the void of family.
She knew how heartbreaking and humiliating it was not to have support for your dreams, so gripping her trembling fist, she overcame her fear.
"Are you trying to kill my brother this time too?!"
Rowen answered Hanna without a hint of falter.
"Hanna Histania...!"
A fleeting oh no crossed Rowen's mind, but he shook his head lightly and continued. Malik wasn't weak.
"I told him to quit. The world isn't so easy that you bet your life on a fluke miracle by a few."
Hanna instantly realized the 'miracle' arrow her father spoke of was aimed at her. He dismissed her efforts and spoke arrogantly, even insulting her butler in the process. Through her chilling hands, Rowen's voice pressed on relentlessly.
"Your brother ran off from home just like you. Not knowing how precious the treatment he got in the family was... So I took on a disciple. Raising a new one would warn him..."
Hanna spoke to Rowen in a cold voice.
"...The miracle already happened."
"Surviving that damn family is the miracle."
"How long are you going to keep this up!? Aren't I enough for you? How big a hole do I have to punch in your heart to satisfy you?!"
Her furious outburst echoed coldly, met only with silence. He just fiddled with his sword, shaking off his displeasure. Rowen revealed his stubbornness wordlessly.
"You'll understand me in time."
"No. I never will."
As he passed Hanna, Rowen said coldly.
"I still don't acknowledge your sword."
Hanna replied with irritation in her voice.
"Please, just stop already!"
What was lacking that he still wouldn't accept her? She'd proven her skill, so what more was needed? Hanna couldn't find the reason.
So.
Clenching her fist, Hanna spoke words she might regret, unleashing her rising anger.
"Try it then. Spar me against the disciple you raised."
"...Arrogant words."
"Your ego's the problem."
Rowen slipped his hand into his pocket and listened to Hanna's proposal. It might be the perfect chance to make her quit the sword for good.
Looking at her with vain confidence and certainty of victory, he said.
"If I lose, I'll return to the family. Quit the sword and obey you."
"But."
Hanna met Rowen's gaze, clenching her fist. She hated how he tried to bind her forever, and saw this as her only way out of the shackles.
So she told Rowen.
"If I win, never show up in front of me again. Not at my wedding, not in my life, and leave my brother's dream alone."
Rowen nodded.
"Deal."
He was certain of victory. He believed he'd win.
The cold atmosphere flowed, silence weighing heavy under the moon.
"Mind if I join?"
An irritating voice reached Rowen's ear. The man who'd overheard everything from who-knows-when approached the training ground with a heavy smile.
Looking at Rowen, the man said.
"Instead of disciple versus disciple... how about master versus master?"
His red hair swaying as he smiled at Rowen.
"That sounds good too, don't you think?"