Sometimes I Wonder
Sometimes I have those thoughts. Today, in the Young Lady's peaceful room, she sat on the bed peering out the window, rubbing her sleepy eyes as she gazed at the brightly shining morning.
"Ricardo."
"Yes."
"I'm sleepy."
"It's been less than ten minutes since you woke up."
"That's why I'm sleepy."
I let out a hollow chuckle watching her yawn. It was adorable, the way she complained about being sleepy despite waking up at ten in the morning.
"Haaah..."
They say beautiful women need a lot of sleep, and it seemed true. The Young Lady's constant battle with drowsiness was enough to make even Sleeping Beauty concede defeat. Beauty must be proportional to sleep, after all. I chuckled softly and began brewing black tea. Nothing wakes you up quite like tea—the pour of hot water soaking the dry leaves filled the room with a subtle, fragrant aroma.
"Mm..."
Perhaps liking the scent, the Young Lady wrinkled her brow and sniffed, her sleepy eyes gradually clearing. Seeing her expression brighten from that hazy squint, I smiled faintly and said to her.
"Smells nice, doesn't it?"
"No."
"..."
Her blunt response. With a sulky look, she stared at the cup as the red tea steeped and said,
"It smells musty, like it'll make me constipated or something. And it feels like it'll make me healthy."
"Isn't getting healthy a good thing?"
"Healthy stuff tastes bad."
"These are really expensive leaves."
"Eeeek..."
The Young Lady said with a serious face,
"Still, I don't like stuff that tastes bad."
In this world, expensive doesn't always mean best. Ignorant of romance, she firmly rejected the carefully brewed tea and turned to gaze out the window. Meditating on the breeze-rustled view outside, she rummaged in her treasure pouch and began tossing snacks toward the window.
"You eat too."
-Goooom!
"This one too."
-Goooom!
I burst out laughing at her kind gesture toward Gomtang as well, then picked up my teacup. This tea was probably mine to drink. The bitter taste of the black tea washed over me as I sipped, bringing a peaceful smile to my face. I thought,
What a waste buying this.
Fancy things and the Desmonts just don't mix. Even Darbarb didn't like black tea.
An hour passed. After breakfast, the Young Lady lay back in bed seeking more sleep, and I sat by her bedside enjoying the leisure. Feeling peace in this rare calm, I turned to the newspaper on the desk and began reading.
"Whatcha doing?"
Stirred by the rustle of pages, the Young Lady opened her eyes and asked, looking at me.
(Go to sleep too.)
Her tempting gesture patting the bed beside her was alluring, but I smiled and declined.
"Just building up some mental nourishment."
"You only need a little of that, Ricardo. You won't get any smarter with that much anyway."
"...What was that? That hurts quite a bit."
"It's fine, I gave up on it ages ago."
At the advice from this senior who'd abandoned mental growth, I chuckled and stretched her cheek.
"Gave up? Gave up what?"
"Eeeek...! It's gonna rip!"
"I'm fine."
"I'm not!"
Her cheeks were soft as ever.
The imperial newspaper was filled with all sorts of articles—politics, adventures, economy, the gossip that thrilled the masses. The Young Lady had appeared in it now and then too.
-The Desmonts' Fall Begins?
Of course, it was rarely positive coverage. Still, she was something of a celebrity in the papers—a famous person, for better or worse. I took a deep breath and began reading today's articles with her.
"No crossword today, at least."
"Boring."
"Tell me about it."
What scant worldly knowledge would fill the pages today? Anticipating, I read on. Newspapers usually led with the empire's hottest gossip on the front page—some family ruined, a noble's child causing scandal, the juicy stuff that got people cheering.
I opened my eyes wide and started on the front-page story.
"There's an interesting article today, though."
"What is it?"
"About the Academy."
At the word "Academy," the Young Lady flicked her eyes toward the paper, feigning disinterest but clearly intrigued. I tilted the newspaper so she could see and began reading aloud.
"Breaking news: 'The Academy Won't Hide It Anymore!'"
"Why?"
"Guess we'll find out if we read."
Nodding, she listened as I skimmed the article quickly. Photos of the wrecked Academy, students with mosaicked faces getting healed, an interview shot of the battered Princess Shartia—it screamed bad news at first glance. A mistake, probably. Knowing the novel's plot, I wasn't shocked, but the Young Lady didn't know. I'd assumed the Academy suppressed the press, but this was bigger than expected—splashed across the front page meant they couldn't contain it internally.
I gave a wry smile and casually covered the article. Luckily, she hadn't seen it, her head now sporting a question mark.
"Why hide it?"
"Gotta censor it."
"Sneaky, hogging the fun stuff yourself."
"It's not as fun as it seems—too boring to show you."
"Eeeek..."
Pouting, she grumbled her dissatisfaction. At her complaint about me being sneaky, I gave an awkward smile and folded the paper.
"Instead, I'll get you chocolate ice cream for snack today."
"Ice cream?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
"The whole tub."
"Ooooh...!"
Satisfied, she nodded and closed her eyes.
"Then I'm sleeping."
I nodded, tucked her in, and sat at the bedside table, slowly reading the article.
Not as bad as I thought. They'd wrapped it up better than expected. No imperial pressure slanting it against the Academy, and zero deaths made it a win. A proper resolution. I figured the damage would be worse. This is good work.
My first hands-off heretic fight. Facing baseless evil, murderous intent—it must've been tough for students new to real combat. Even with the Tower Master's help easing the load, enduring alone was no small feat. Worth praising.
Satisfied, I smiled, thinking no more interference needed. If they kept this up, both side characters and leads could grow against coming trials. Relief washed over me, mingled with pride—my efforts hadn't been wasted. No more needless worries. I smiled faintly and set the paper down.
The Young Lady slept soundly, breathing softly like Sleeping Beauty, hands neatly folded on her belly.
"Mm... meat."
She looked the perfect noble lady like this, but open her mouth and she turned wicked—always cracking me up.
Sometimes I have those thoughts. What if the Young Lady weren't wicked? I imagine a demure lady who brews tea properly, prefers black tea over chocolate.
-Mr. Ricardo, you worked so hard today.
-Tired? Sit here and rest.
-Me first? No, you eat first, Mr. Ricardo.
Every time, I chuckle hollowly. She's not the type for that. I like her as she is—honest, whiny, straightforward. That's why I serve her, why I'm content. Whatever, I like the Young Lady.
I smiled softly, gazing at her. A fly on her cheek made her frown; smiling, I touched her forehead, thinking of our future. Together. Laughing. Walking the beach. Just imagining it made me happy.
Would you like to use Rehabilitation Touch?
So I had no regrets about my choices.