The Foolish Father Who Musters Courage
Rowan sat in his study, stacking the books he had finished reading to one side as he nodded to himself. How to Be a Good Father [Advanced Edition]. The foolish father who had always been trash was trying, once again, to change.
—A father who says "no" to everything is not a good father.
—No. (A crudely drawn picture of a sad child)
—I'm saying this for your own good! (A crudely drawn picture of a crying child)
—A good father listens to his child's opinions and supports them. That is what makes a good father.
—You're doing well. (A crudely drawn picture of a smiling child)
—I may be old and not know much, but if you're my child, I'm sure you'll do just fine. (A crudely drawn picture of a child clenching their fist with tears of emotion)
Rowan read the impressive passage and nodded, jotting it down in his notebook. A father who supports his child is a good father... He wrote the line in elegant script and allowed himself a small smile. The book had given him one more piece of knowledge to add to his long list of wrong answers.
"This is difficult..."
Ever since he declared his intention to become a good father, there had been no real progress. They had grown close enough that his daughter would at least reply to his letters, but—
—Have you eaten?
—Yes.
The sparse contents of the letters still revealed the distance between them. He had seen his friend's letters.
—Are you enjoying academy life, Olivia?
—Father...
—I see.
They had been no help at all, but if he looked closely, he could sense the gap in the letters. His friend's letters felt close. His own felt... formal. Awkward. There was a strange current flowing between him and Hannah. It was all the karma he had brought upon himself, yet the impatience he felt was the inevitable heart of a sinner.
"How foolish."
Even after becoming a Sword Master, instead of enjoying the wait, he was running from it. The thought that he was not acting his age crossed Rowan's mind, but still—
—Yes. Have you eaten, Father?
Seeing the smile on his own face as he read the letter his daughter had written, Rowan felt that this choice had not been wrong. Among countless wrong answers, he had finally chosen a normal one. It meant something.
"This is good."
Rowan was happy.
"..."
If only he had done this sooner. Rowan closed his eyes, holding the letter Hannah had written. Malik. Hannah. And his second daughter, Rosy. If only he had realized it a little earlier, he could have been a better father to his children. He hated regret, yet the fact that he now felt regret made him laugh bitterly.
"This is difficult..."
He had three children he loved—son and daughters alike—and he had only just begun to run. The road ahead was still long. Rowan thought it was wrong to favor Hannah alone. He had favored the other children until now, after all. He could pay a little more attention to Hannah, but a good father was supposed to give equal love to all his children. So Rowan resolved not to discriminate anymore.
"I should go see her."
Rowan rose from the heavy chair and left the study, walking down the corridor. He passed Hannah's room, where a cold wind blew. He passed Malik's room, filled with documents. He stopped in front of Rosy's firmly closed door.
"I hope she's here."
Rosy was currently training with the sword in the mansion. After graduating from the academy, she had expressed her desire to hone her blade at home. The second daughter, who spent her time training to make up for the insufficient skill that would not suit the Imperial Knights, was in her room again today. She must be struggling. She had set the goal of awakening Aura like her older brother and officially joining the knights. It was an absurdly high wall, but Rowan believed in her. She carried his blood, and he had decided not to push her anymore.
"Hoo..."
Taking a deep breath, Rowan knocked heavily on Rosy's door.
—Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Come in."
She must have thought it was a servant. I should surprise her.
—Creaaak.
Rowan opened Rosy's door with a small smile. And then—
"F... Father?"
He found Rosy inside, her eyes hollow. Sitting in her chair, she looked at him with trembling eyes. She must have thought a servant had entered, because she had not even tidied the notebooks scattered across the room. Rowan smiled faintly at the sight of her staring at him like that.
First step to becoming a good father: Smile often. That was what the book had said.
In the past, he would have left without a word after seeing the messy room. But Rowan, who had made up his mind to change, smiled and picked up a notebook that had fallen to the floor. And then—
He froze at the sight of a single sheet of paper fluttering down.
"You were working hard... Hm?"
Rowan's eyes trembled.
"What is this...?"
He wondered what the drawing before him was. He had thought she had written notes on sword techniques in the notebook, but—
—No! A baguette that big is...! I can't take any more...!
Rowan's eyes shook as he looked at the paper with the unexpected drawing.
"..."
"..."
He had no idea what to say.
"Hmm..."
Rosy, her hands trembling, lowered her head at the sight of the frozen Rowan and spoke in a shaky voice.
"F... Father."
"..."
"This isn't what it looks like..."
"..."
"It's really not a drawing I made...!"
"Kh..."
Rowan closed his eyes gently, his heart complicated. He racked his brain, trying to recall what the book had said to do in situations like this, until his head felt hot. Beginner edition. Intermediate edition. Advanced... There was nothing. The fact that the book did not cover what to do in this situation made Rowan's eyes tremble as he faced the crisis. He had not expected such a crisis to appear on the very first step toward becoming a good father.
...This is troublesome.
"Father...!"
"..."
"Th... That!"
"Shh."
In that moment, a line from the book flashed through Rowan's mind.
—A father who says "no" is not a good father.
Nod.
Recalling the contents of the book he had read today, Rowan nodded and spoke in a careful voice, his brows furrowed.
"This drawing..."
"Yes?"
"Did you draw it?"
"Well..."
Rosy lowered her head and crumpled the paper in her hands. She had not wanted her father to find out. She knew that if he found out, he would tear it up on the spot and destroy every piece of paper in the room. Rosy held her breath, enduring the suffocating feeling. No matter how much she liked drawing, her father would never allow it. Whether she lied or told the truth, her father would not accept it. So Rosy chose the option that would get her scolded the least.
—Grip...
"I'm sorry."
Rosy's trembling voice, head bowed, was directed at Rowan.
"I drew it."
"..."
"But Father, I'm still practicing swordsmanship properly...! Drawing makes my mind feel at peace, so..."
"..."
"I'm not neglecting my training at all... I just like drawing... No, it helps with my training...!"
Trembling, Rosy squeezed her eyes shut at her father's cold expression. She thought she would never be allowed to draw again.
"..."
The thought of having to give up something she liked made her heart ache sharply. Was this... the feeling Hannah had talked about? It hurt even more.
—Come home.
—No. From now on, I'm going to do what I want without worrying.
—...Do you know how bad the atmosphere at home is because of you? Mother is one thing, but Father...
—You don't understand how I feel, Sister.
—...
—I only came because Brother made a place for me, but it's the same.
Rosy thought. She regretted her arrogant belief that it would be fine if she hid it until the end. As she watched her father's approaching hand, she squeezed her eyes shut.
"Huu... I'm sorr—"
Her father had never once raised a hand against her until now, but she thought today would be different. However—
—Pat.
"I see."
At the warm hand resting on her head, Rosy opened her trembling eyes. It was warm. Warmer and more comforting than any touch she had ever felt before.
"Father...?"
Rosy looked up with trembling eyes. Rowan smiled awkwardly and said,
"You drew this well."
"..."
"I didn't know you had this kind of talent."
"Huh...? What did you just say?"
Rosy thought she must have misheard. She could not believe her father had praised her. The hand gently patting her as he looked at the drawing did not feel real. But the warm touch on her head made Rosy's heart tremble greatly.
Rowan spoke to Rosy.
"So you were drawing in secret."
"Yes."
"Why...?"
"Well... I was embarrassed..."
"Indeed... It is a genre that is difficult to show others..."
Rosy looked at Rowan with trembling eyes and offered an excuse.
"I don't always draw things like this! The part you're holding is just particularly... suggestive...!"
"..."
Rowan smiled awkwardly at the information he did not want to know.
"You've become an adult."
"..."
Rowan's eyes took in his daughter's appearance. It was not the stiff, guarded daughter she always showed him. It was a daughter with a somewhat relaxed, peaceful expression. Today, Rosy's shoulders seemed especially light.
So this is what it was.
Rowan, who had been wandering without finding an answer, thought he had found the right path in Rosy's bright appearance. Rather than tormenting his children for the sake of the family's survival, understanding them was the correct answer. It was laughable that the only daughter he had thought had no talent was the one carrying on the will of the sword, but now it did not matter.
"...How curious."
Rosy cautiously opened her mouth, watching Rowan's expression.
"Would you like to see more?"
Rowan nodded heavily and answered.
"Let's do that."
—Kuh... Kill me...!
There were many drawings that made his face burn, but seeing his daughter excitedly showing them to him, Rowan smiled contentedly. This... was the right answer. His heart felt a little lighter. It was not about forcing talent, but about letting each of them find their own path.
"Rosy."
"Yes...? Ah... I took up too much of your time, didn't I...? I should go out and practice swordsmanship right away...!"
"Let's rest from the sword for a while."
"Father...!"
Rowan opened his mouth, which had been difficult to open.
"Let's do what you like now."
"..."
"I'm sorry for all this time."
Rosy shed tears.
*
After Rowan left the room, Rosy wiped her tears and took out a sheet of letter paper from the drawer.
—To Hannah.
It had been a long time since she had spoken with Hannah, who had run away from home with her brother's help.
—Why do I have to meet that person!
—Do as I say.
—I said no!
—If you don't, I'll tell Father about your drawings.
—...!
And they had not been able to resolve it smoothly. Only today had she realized it. Hannah must have had such a hard time. And Hannah had changed their father. Rosy's eyes grew hot at the sight of Hannah's stubbornness succeeding in breaking their father's stubbornness. So Rosy wiped her tears and picked up the pen.
"...I wonder if it's too late."
*
Histania was changing. Little by little.