In the Midst of Succeeding the Family Head - 4

It was already an open secret that whenever the children of House Taylor came of age, a wind of blood swept through the family.

No one had ever become Family Head without blood being spilled.

There were those who, despite being born as only children, had failed to claim the position at all; and when there were siblings, one of them was all but certain to die.

This twisted family was, after all, the Empire's sole dukedom — and the fact that it had preserved its standing to this day was surely the fruit of that brutal meritocracy.

Naturally, there were those who thought poorly of it. But in the end, their failing was that they never became Family Head. Had anyone harboring such doubts actually ascended, something might have changed — and the fact that this tradition had been handed down intact to the present day meant only one thing: the time had come for a little change.

Even if I became Family Head, I did not believe the Taylors to come needed such turmoil. Think back on everything I myself had endured — could anyone other than me have withstood it? If a sibling like Yuria tormented someone again, it would amount to nothing more than one more ruined life. If I did not sever it here, if I let things end as they stood, the cycle of cruelty would simply continue. Wasn't breaking that vicious cycle something completed only when I became Family Head myself?

What I had gained from meeting the Crown Prince was tacit approval. It meant no unforeseen interference could touch my fight with Yuria — at the very least, I need not spare a thought for anywhere else. All that remained was to ascend to Family Head.

I was walking along, steeped in such thoughts, when a familiar voice sounded beside me.

"Ah, did you come all the way out here to see me?"

I lifted my head, and there stood Mirajane. She had been leaning against the wall, waving; now she came toward me with a grin and a shrug of her shoulders.

It seemed her confinement had been lifted. More than two weeks had passed since we met in the South, so it was about time.

I spoke slowly as she drew near. "It seems you were waiting. Our talks ran long — I apologize."

"I wasn't waiting. We just happened to cross paths. I didn't stand out front like last time — this time it really is a coincidence."

So she's admitting she waited last time, then. Judging by how she put it, this occasion truly did seem to be chance.

I seemed to recall her saying she'd have some reward for me if I came to the Imperial Palace again, but I was rather pressed today. There wasn't much ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠time to spare for Mirajane.

Her eyes were shining with expectation. I gave a small smile and answered, carefully brushing aside the hair that had slipped over my shoulder.

"I'm afraid I can't stay with you today. There's someone I have to meet."

"...Anyone listening would think I'd been expecting something. I knew it."

"If that's really how it is, I'm glad. Though your face tells me otherwise."

Her jutting, pouting lips laid Mirajane's feelings entirely bare. She was still hopeless at lying, so I hid a smile and started walking ahead.

Mirajane followed, grumbling all the while, before smoothing her expression back into place and speaking again.

"By the way, who are you going to meet? I heard you already saw my dear brother today."

"No one special. Merely someone I would have to meet sooner or later."

My offhand answer only seemed to stoke her curiosity. Her eyes had narrowed to slits, clearly turning over who this 'someone I had to meet' might be — so I played my hand before she could land on the answer.

"I'm going to see my father. You would know him as the Family Head of House Taylor."

Her steps stopped at those words. As though struck by them, Mirajane's eyes found me the instant her footsteps froze — a gaze far removed from the mere playfulness she'd been showing. Truthfully, anyone would react this way upon hearing the words 'Family Head.' For meeting the Family Head at this particular season could only mean one thing.

"...So it's finally beginning. I was hoping what I'd heard before was just idle rumor."

"It was inevitable from the start. Besides — telling the Young Matriarch to become Family Head at this point... hasn't she crossed far too many lines already?"

Mirajane ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was no fool. She surely understood what it meant for my father and me to meet, and she likely knew well what would unfold this summer. In House Taylor, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the mention of the Family Head's name carried exactly that weight. The season when all a Family Head's children had come of age, and the standing head grew old. A name spoken at such a time was always bound up with blood.

"You may support me, or oppose me — whichever you please. His Highness the Crown Prince has promised tacit approval, whatever may come."

"What a comfortable thing to say. 'Do as you please' — I trust you fully understand that I am the Princess?"

"I do. And I know equally well that you will have no choice but to weigh my family against that."

I had no wish to force a choice upon her. In the beginning I had certainly approached her with a purpose, but at some point our relationship had begun to continue for reasons beyond that purpose. There was no need to exploit it.

Mirajane studied me in silence for a long moment, then let out a deep sigh and started walking ahead. I followed her without a word, all the way toward the gates leading into the Imperial Palace — where she stopped once more.

"What would you have me do?"

"Hard to say."

"This is exactly when you're supposed to simply ask for my help — and I could help you. Like I said before: you do know I'm the Princess, don't you?"

I did know. I knew that if she threw her support behind me openly, it would be enough to throw the whole board into upheaval.

But so long as the nobles stood with Yuria, her endorsement alone might provoke them into launching who knew what offensive against Mirajane. And in any case, she had already drifted from the mainstream even within the Imperial Family — her backing would deal the nobles no meaningful blow to begin with.

Building a connection with Mirajane had been precisely so I could call on her help in a situation like this, and yet for some reason I hesitated. Perhaps it was because so much had changed by now. Yuria had moved even more rashly than I'd expected, and in doing so had exposed a great many openings. As things stood, I could overturn the board without anyone's help at all.

Her help would make things easier, of course. I could reap far more profit than I'd imagined and advance with ease.

"I'll be fine."

Once again, I would play the fool.

I could manage without Mirajane's help. That had been true at the start — but by now, I simply did not want to bring her any harm. To everyone else it might look like the folly of a man declining a prize held right before his eyes. She might even come to despise me — hesitating again after swearing I would stop at nothing.

"Tacit approval is enough."

Because that was the path I had chosen to walk. If only one person had to bleed and ache for it, let it be me. But it must not be anyone else. Difficult as it would be, the possibility was more than there.

At my easy smile, Mirajane's brow furrowed. Apparently my refusal, right to the very end, had frustrated her considerably. Still, I thought, it couldn't be helped. Even had the one I spoke to been Adele or Adrian, for now, tacit approval would have been enough.

Haah. Letting out a small breath, Mirajane raked her fingers carelessly through her hair. Then she squeezed her eyes shut, opened them again, and studied me hard, her lips wavering.

"Don't regret this. I really will stay quiet."

"Of course. The next time I'm Duke, I'll come pay my respects at the Imperial Palace."

"Will you be able to?"

I held her gaze for a long moment, then answered with a grin. "Of course I can."

The reason I had sought the support of the North, the Imperial Family, and the Church was a simple one: so that when I ascended to Family Head, I would face no questioning stares. When a man of meager backing claims the position, those beneath him are forever inclined to doubt. And it was equally to make Yuria wary of the forces behind me. Once I had drawn in the backing of those three powers, even Yuria could no longer afford to take me lightly — was that not simply the truth?

Which was presumably why she was now moving to strike at Father directly. And with that avenue closed to her, she might well grow more desperate still.

In any case, it was a fact that Father's standing had grown precarious. While the Family Head looked on in silence, Yuria had accomplished a great deal: most of the central nobility had been drawn to her side, and she had seized every corner of the Taylor Ducal Mansion. It meant there was no place within these lands where she could not do as she pleased. Perhaps, by now, the very title of Family Head was nothing more than a hollow shell. This was an age when the Young Matriarch's standing had come to rival the Family Head's own. Of course, had Yuria simply succeeded as planned, it would have been a natural transition — but I was her rival. My backing was no longer feeble as it once had been; if anything, I held the potential to press her with an even greater force.

Naturally, I had no intention of making such moves in the open. Outside interference over the name of Taylor would serve poorly. It could muddy the house's standing — and even if I did win the title, I might find myself unable to serve as the rallying point for the nobility as House Taylor once had. ...As I thought — no interference was needed. That was precisely why I had requested only tacit approval from the Imperial Family. Their intervention would profit me now, but it would leave a precedent of the palace meddling in Taylor affairs for all time to come. This was something I had to settle with my own hands.

Smoothing the rumpled collar of my shirt, I walked slowly onward. It had been quite a while since I'd dressed with any real formality — not comfortable clothes made for movement, but refined attire befitting the name of noble. Tonight I was not going to meet my father as his son. I would meet the Family Head as a member of House Taylor — as one who held the qualification to become the next Family Head.

The click of my shoes rang down the roadside. Passing countless people, I walked a street that glittered brilliantly beneath the darkening night sky.

The schedule of Father's movements that Renald had sent me was something I already knew more or less by heart. Naturally so — I had accompanied him there more than once in previous lives. It was a shabby place for a Duke to frequent, but I had come here many times and knew its layout in intimate detail. No one would ever imagine the Family Head of House Taylor setting foot in such a place. Perhaps Father thought of it as his own private refuge — but given the circumstances, I could hardly leave him to rest in peace.

Click—

Footsteps rang out into the hollow dark. The moment I took my first step down into the pitch-black basement, a small glow revealed a tiny bar where two tables were all that fit. The bartender's glance flicked toward me as he polished a glass — but far more conspicuous was the gaze of one old man, staring straight at me.

"...So this is where you've been."

Worn wooden planks creaked beneath every step. The closer I came, the harder my heart pounded. I had met my father across many lifetimes, but never in a position like this. He was the Family Head; I was the usurper. However neatly it was dressed up, between two people in such positions, the courtesies of parent and child were bound to fall away.

My father set down his large glass, and his eyes turned to me. Those cold eyes — nothing like my mother's, and if anything, resembling Yuria's — drew a faint smirk from my lips. It felt as though the small tension that had gathered in me vanished entirely. If anything was going to be done, tonight would be the night.

"There is something I must say to you. I have come today to speak of it — though I wonder whether you have the time."

To the old man who still regarded me in silence, I quietly added:

"Father."