I Love the Academy Too Much!
I just love the academy so much! My brother got an earful from Mother about what that even meant, but in the end, I successfully made my intentions crystal clear to both of them.
I had no intention of quitting the academy, and no reason to either.
Mother gave up at that, but Brother still seemed reluctant.
"Not even a month—just a week, and that's all it took?"
Brother pressed his brow, unable to let go of his lingering doubts, but that wasn't going to change my mind.
If something like that could sway me, I'd have caved the moment I saw Mother's tears.
"Yes. Hmm, how should I put it... It feels like I'm alive here. For the first time in my life."
"…"
"Meeting people I never could before, seeing colors I never knew existed, learning knowledge that was beyond me, feeling emotions I never felt... Now that I've experienced all that, going back... ehehehe. It's not that I hate home. I just love it here too much."
I added a little more to keep my image as the loving, dutiful daughter intact, and only then did Brother finally relent.
"Hah. If that's truly what you want, then fine. I'll step out for a bit. I'll go fetch Father..."
"No need for that."
"…Father. You've arrived."
As if he'd been waiting for the perfect moment, Father appeared the instant Brother offered to fetch him.
Alexandr von Airbalt. One of the empire's rare Sword Masters and the unyielding mountain of the North.
He must have walked slowly from the moment I woke up. Father's hearing was downright eerie, even to me.
When I was very young, he'd even noticed something off about the sound of my heartbeat and diagnosed my illness right then.
Lost in old memories for a moment, I bowed deeply from my seated position to greet him.
"It's been a while, Father. Um. Sorry. It took me a bit to... get up."
Father paused at my words, halting mid-step.
He only ever acted like that when something struck him emotionally.
Like now, when the one who should be receiving an apology was the one giving it.
"…No need to apologize. My daughter."
Father approached, crouching down to quietly ask about my condition.
"I feel a bit more lively than usual! Probably thanks to... ah. Saintess Cecilia's blessing."
I flexed my arm, placing a hand on my nonexistent bicep like I was showing off muscles.
Mother watched with even more pity in her eyes, but I didn't hate the attention, so I kept going.
I always felt bad for Mother, but I missed that affection, that reaction of hers.
"…You've even befriended the Saintess."
But Father's focus was elsewhere.
"Ah."
Busted.
"Well... ehehehe. I've had to rely on the temple a lot lately, so we kept running into each other... and we just naturally got close."
There were some fabrications and reordered events, but it wasn't exactly a lie.
I did end up relying on the temple a lot. Sure, from our first meeting she'd been all clingy, asking if she could call me by a nickname, but she was my favorite, after all.
"So beyond the injuries from the Demon Worshippers, you're getting hurt even more...?"
Mother's eyes shook again at those words.
Oh, right.
I'd told Einshel to leave out the part where hearing I'd gotten hurt would make Mother collapse.
Still, Cecilia must have told her something. About the duel, or sword practice accidents.
...Or maybe not?
My ominous hunch hit the mark as always—Mother's posture crumbled.
If Brother hadn't rushed to catch her right there, she might have actually hit the floor.
"You... tell me the truth. What the hell have you been doing at the academy?"
This time, Brother wasn't letting it slide; he glared at me with fierce eyes, demanding answers.
I shot Father a pleading look for rescue, but even he seemed to be on Brother's side this time, making no move.
"Well..."
I gauged their reactions, mixing in some convenient lies as I spilled everything that had happened.
Not that it revealed my true intentions—it was all packaged as well-meaning actions.
Once I'd finished, Brother looked up and squeezed his eyes shut, while Father's lips twitched downward ever so slightly.
This was bad.
That was the face Father made when he was angry.
"…Some Southern mongrel dared lay a hand on you?"
"Y-Yes...? Huh?"
Wait. The direction of his anger felt a little off.
His gaze had shifted away from me.
If he was mad at me, that'd be fine, but if the sparks flew elsewhere, that could complicate things.
People's attitudes toward me would get awkward.
"It's fine now! The Southern Duke's heir accepted his defeat. And I'm getting along great with his sister, Lucia. So... please don't get too upset."
I hurriedly smoothed things over before Father could do something drastic and strain things with Lucia.
Father looked at me, his brows and lips drooping even further.
The face he made when he was sad.
"My daughter. You're saying you'd even show mercy to those who once bared their fangs at you?"
He must be heartbroken.
His one pure, kind daughter in the world, dragged into such unseemly affairs at the academy.
"…I think everyone deserves a chance. Except the Demon Worshippers, of course. They've already crossed the line."
Mention of the Demon Worshippers darkened Father's expression further.
"I've heard the rough outline. That they target our blood... that they target you."
Father said that, paused, then pulled me into another embrace.
"…I'm sorry."
Out of nowhere. Just sorry.
I didn't ask for what.
This was the first time I'd ever seen Father like this.
He rarely showed emotion.
The most he'd ever say was "I love you" to Mother.
A man so stoic you could stab him and the needle would bend before drawing blood.
Yet here he was, voice laced with anguish, apologizing to me.
The unexpectedness threw me off, but at the same time, it felt so good I could barely speak.
To feel, skin-deep, not just in my head, how important I was—enough to torment him like this.
Thank goodness Father was holding me tight.
If anyone saw my face right now, my true nature would be laid bare in an instant.
Only when I'd barely managed to school my expression did Father release me.
"I'm really fine. It's not your fault, Father. It's all those Demon Worshippers' doing."
I smiled brightly at Father, who was shuddering with guilt.
It's not your fault.
Whether he took it as intended or not, Father gazed at me like his heart was tearing further.
"…I'll deploy the knights to root out the Demon Worshippers. So you can be a little safer. I'll also speak to the academy on your behalf."
"Thank you, Father. For always thinking of me."
Brother, who had been quietly mulling things over, finally looked at me and spoke firmly.
"You need to be a little more selfish."
I'm already plenty selfish, Brother.
I swallowed the words with a smile.
Father held my right hand a moment longer, then decided it was enough and said it was time to go.
Mother protested that I needed a few more days of observation, but relented grudgingly when reminded he'd already been away from his territory for a week.
Mother hugged me tight, telling me to write more often and more honestly, and to promise not to throw myself into danger so recklessly again.
"…Yes. I'll only step up when I absolutely have to."
Though I'll make sure it's always a situation where I have no choice.
"My baby... take care of yourself..."
Mother clung to my hand for a good long while before finally letting Brother support her as they headed for the door.
She kept looking back until the very end, which was almost too much to bear.
Yes, this was the flavor. Family concern. Family worry.
Brother paused at the threshold, staring straight at me.
"…If you push yourself again, I really won't let it slide next time."
"Yes, Brother."
"Hey, you..."
"I mean it?"
I grinned as I said it, and Brother looked at me like he had a million things to say.
In the end, he left without another word.
Father followed after.
Just before the door closed, his low voice drifted in.
"…Focus only on recovering."
I couldn't respond.
I might've burst out laughing.
Focus only on recovering? That's the one thing I'm worst at.
"Hoo..."
I leaned back against the bed, catching my breath.
Good thing Cecilia's blessing had just worn off.
Once the benediction that had coursed through my body, easing the pain, finally faded, the chill and agony rushed back in tandem.
It was just barely tolerable, but any worse and I'd be bedridden again.
As I savored the quiet of the room alone, footsteps approached—several sets.
Not family coming back for something forgotten.
Friends, maybe?
Lucia was the first to peek in, eyes wide through the door crack, checking if I was really awake.
The moment our gazes met, she froze and stammered back to the others.
"I-Ilisha's awake!"
Then Cecilia, Dorothea, and Ern filed in one by one.
Family first, then friends.
The natural order, and quite the bountiful lineup.
Lucia opened and closed her mouth like she wanted to say something the instant she saw me.
Normally she'd have exploded with "What the fuck is wrong with you, you crazy bitch?!" but instead, she just hovered awkwardly nearby, probably aware of what had happened over the past week.
Cecilia brushed past her lightly, coming to my side and silently infusing me with another blessing.
"Thank you, Cecilia."
I'd been aching anyway.
Dorothea kept her distance, just staring intently, while Ern...
He wouldn't even meet my eyes, like it was a sin, turning away the moment I looked at him.
Yes. That's it.
You taste the best when you make that face.
"Ern. Is your eye alright?"
So I decided to torment him a little more.
"…I'm the one who should be asking. You okay?"
"As you can see."
"…Yeah. Then I'm fine too."
Makes sense—both eyes looked perfectly fine, so Cecilia must have restored it.
Only then did Lucia finally snap.
"You... you! Who the hell are you worrying about?! You've been laid up for a week, and you're fussing over some guy with bloodshot eyes?!"
It was absurd.
Bloodshot? It had burst.
But I didn't mind.
Her blowing up like this for me was delicious.
"How's your body feeling?"
Cecilia asked as if the rest didn't matter.
"A little worse than usual."
If we're talking pain levels.
"That's not something to say so brightly."
Cecilia spoke softly, but there were faint shadows under her eyes.
Hadn't slept properly, huh.
Because of me?
Aaah, what an honor. My favorite, sacrificing her sleep to nurse me so devotedly.
"But I'm alive, right?"
"Yes."
Cecilia gave a short reply, then briefly lowered her gaze.
"That's... truly a relief."
"…You okay?"
Dorothea hemmed and hawed for a while before finally asking.
"Yes. No need to worry so mu—cough. Ugh..."
I was answering fine when a sneeze hit.
"Ilisha...!"
Everyone in the room turned worried eyes on me.
Why the fuss?
It was just my usual paroxysmal cough.
But with all eyes on me, I decided to milk it.
"Hehe."
I slowly looked down at my right arm and murmured.
"…I wanted to try wearing a sleeveless top."
The room seemed to freeze solid.
Lucia gaped, stock-still; Dorothea looked like she'd genuinely stopped breathing; Cecilia closed her eyes.
And Ern.
Ah.
Yes.
That's it. That face.
I laughed inwardly, utterly satisfied.
This is why I want to stay at the academy.