Elia Side Story. The Race Isn't Even Over, Yet the Rabbit Has Started Nodding Off

Early morning.

Waking up alone was familiar by now, but it always left a hollow ache behind. The freshness of a young summer morning and the bright wash of sunlight did make me feel refreshed — and yet, there was no describing the wistfulness that crept over me in that empty room, in that lonely little scene.

To put it simply:

"Ah, when am I ever going to get married…"

I wasn't even sure we counted as an official couple yet, and here I was, already thinking about marriage.

My mornings were always like this. I'd spend a little while thinking of Professor Niger, then rise and get ready for work. Naturally, I made my way to his office.

"Good morning, Professor Niger!"

"Yes, good morning."

And at that kind smile, same as every day, I couldn't help but smile bashfully back.

Truly.

Truly, truly.

He was so handsome. It genuinely astonished me that a face could exist that I never got tired of seeing, no matter how many times I looked.

Suppressing those inner thoughts with effort, I spoke up. "By the way, Professor, summer break has started. Shouldn't you be at the temple?"

"Ah, well… that is true, but it's not as though I must remain there exclusively. His Holiness did tell me to come by whenever I found the time."

"Whew~ what a relief! I was afraid that once break started, you'd go back to living at the temple like before… *sigh*."

Somehow, unlike every break before, Professor Niger wasn't going to the temple. When the semester ended, I'd been bracing myself for another lonely holiday, quietly resenting that temple of his.

"Haha… though Professor Elia, doesn't that mean you'll have to visit your family estate for the break as well?"

Oh.

Right.

"Ugh…, now that you mention it, you're right…. Father will be sending a letter soon. Uh, it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠might already be waiting at home…!"

"I don't think there's any need to look quite that miserable about it…."

As I scrunched up my face at his words, Professor Niger let out an awkward laugh. Ah, so handsome. But the moment I set foot in the count's estate, I would have to face that scrap of paper my father and mother would be pushing into my hands.

Marriage proposals. Letters from suitors, addressed to me.

My parents were getting on in years, after all, and they never stopped nagging about how I needed to find a match already. This time would be no different.

"Uuu…, the moment I go home, the marriage pressure will…, huh?"

No, wait just a moment.

Come to think of it, there was a solution.

"Professor Niger, by the way — you like me, don't you?"

"…Pardon?"

"You like me. Right? You like me, don't you?"

"Ah, yes. Of course I do, but…"

There it was. That was the answer all along. What on earth had I been agonizing over?

All I had to do was throw the dice — just like that breeze of a thought I'd had this morning, we could simply get married, starting now.

"Then you'll marry me too, won't you?!"

"No, no. Professor Elia, please compose yourself."

"You're not telling me you'd say you like me and then refuse to marry me??"

"No, this isn't something one can simply decide on the spot…"

"Just promise me, just the promise! You'll still marry me someday, won't you?!"

"No, that's…"

I clung to Professor Niger as sweat trickled down his face and badgered him for the better part of an hour. Mournfully, and desperately. As if I would die without him, as if I had never once thought of another man.

And at last, his head dipped in a nod, and I beamed.

When the engagement would actually take place — I had no idea. Whether it would be with me and me alone — I had no idea about that either.

Just as I'd predicted, when I returned home there was a letter waiting, delivered under the family name. I frowned as I tore open the envelope and unfolded the page.

Ugh.

Father. I am twenty-eight years old now. Please stop writing to me as though I were a five-year-old child…

And don't treat me like a little girl in the body of the letter, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠then slip marriage pressure into the postscript, either.

With that thought, I headed straight for the family estate the very next day. At the sight of the head butler's face, which I hadn't seen in ages, I broke into a smile.

"It has been too long, my lady."

"It really has, Liam. Where's the head maid?"

"Head Maid Aba is with the Countess. Please, come inside."

We exchanged brief greetings, and I stepped through the doors. The butlers, and the maids after them, lined up from the entrance onward and bowed their heads.

If I'm being honest, they held themselves far more gracefully and elegantly than I ever did as they delivered that tribute. And then—

"Honestly…, how many times do I have to tell you not to do this…"

At my exasperated complaint, laughter rippled through the bowing butlers and maids. What a household this was. For all the years that had passed, the people I'd grown up with remained brimming with nothing but the urge to tease me.

"Welcome home, my lady!"

"Bleeeh~"

I stuck my tongue out at them as I passed, and they burst out laughing all over again. It really was a lovely thing to see, how warm we all were together.

Claudius.

A house of imperial merit. From ages past, it had stood firm as the sword that guarded the Empire — though in the dim reaches of history we had been no more than commoners. It was a house that had taken up the blade for the first Emperor and been granted the title of count in return.

And so, the head of House Claudius had, generation after generation, become Knight Commander, leader of the Imperial Knights. My grandfather, the previous head, had done so — and so had my father, the current one.

Except.

"*Sniff*… my daughter…. Has this father become nothing to you now…?"

"Oh, come on. It's only been half a year. Why do you keep crying…"

My father — overflowing with dignity, the man who was surely an idol to every knight under his command — would burst into tears the instant he laid eyes on me.

Exactly like right now.

It was the first family dinner we'd all shared in a long while. Father, the head of the house; Mother, the Countess; my younger brother Noah; and me. The long table was laden with every manner of delicacy we never got to eat on ordinary days, and behind us stood what must have been dozens of butlers and maids in attendance.

"*Sniff*, *sob*. Only half a year, you say? What nonsense is that? Our sweet, delicate little daughter went half a year without so much as a word."

"Please, stop…. Father, have some dignity. Besides, I'm taller than Mother now, you know. Stop comparing me to that enormous frame of yours and face reality."

Chuckles broke out here and there around the room. Agh, seriously…

Yes. This was practically an annual tradition.

Every time I came home, Father would weep at the sight of me, and at the sight of him so unlike his usual self, the butlers and maids — and Mother and my brother too — would all crack up.

"Elia, you must try to understand. You have no idea how your father suffered through those six months of waiting."

"I do understand, Mother…. It's just that this has been going on for five years now, hasn't it…?"

Five years already, since I became an Academy professor at twenty-three. I would be thirty before long.

"Pfft…, ah, forgive me. *Sniff*, *cough*…!"

Mother, please don't laugh.

"*Sob*, *hic*…, my precious daughter…."

Father, please don't cry.

"Welcome home, sis. You've had a rough time, huh."

Little brother, thank goodness at least one of you is normal.

The dinner table settled down after a while. Though, if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'm being honest, it was because the conversation had turned to a different subject.

"So, Elia — quite a few proposals have come in over the past six months. Isn't it about time you started preparing for marriage?"

"That's right, my dear. I love you with all my heart, but you really have reached the age where you ought to find a match."

"Twenty-eight is quite late already. You're so exceptional that the proposals keep coming, of course, but…"

Mother and Father launched into the exact same speech as last break. It was a topic that had run on unbroken since I was young — ever since the day I'd savagely rejected my first fiancé because his face was, quote, "scrunched up like a crumpled napkin."

Right up through last break, the mere mention of this subject had made me writhe in disgust. I'd honestly have rather sat through three hours of Father crying.

But this time.

"Hmm, you're quite right. I suppose it is time for me to get married."

Except this time, I've brought a groom.

"…?! Truly, Elia?! Oh, what a relief!"

"Our daaaughter!! What kind of rascal is he?! What kind of man dares take our precious—!!"

Father. Seriously. Five minutes ago you were telling me to get married.

I gripped his arm and pressed down hard as I continued. "What kind of man, you say— AAGH! My daughter, my daughter! Papa's arm— it hurts…!! Ack!"

"Be quiet and listen to me first. I have someone I've already made a marriage promise with. He's a wonderful person."

The most handsome man in the entire world, so there couldn't possibly be anyone better. And just yesterday, I had wrung a promise of marriage out of him, no less.

Mother's eyes went round with surprise at my words. "Oh my, oh my…. From which noble house is his heirship?"

"He's not a noble. He's a priest. A priest of the Elohim Order."

"U-ummm…. A priest…? That asylum of…, no. Th-the, well, so…?"

"Mmph, mmph…!!"

Ah, hmm. What I'm trying to say here is that my disdain for the Church was inherited, fair and square. A family of martial fanatics obsessed with the sword tends to reject anything resembling magic or religion.

Still, it came as a small surprise to see Mother, flustered ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at the news that her daughter's beloved was a priest, clearly straining to hold back the insults. And Father's mouth had been clamped shut by Mother's hand precisely so that none could escape.

"He's Professor Niger Caritas. We work as colleagues at the Academy."

"Hmmm…, but I heard priests aren't permitted to marry."

"Turns out that's not quite true. And besides — he's incredibly handsome. Would you like to see?"

With that, I drew out the communication mana stone linked to Professor Niger and held it up.

There on the stone was Professor Niger, apparently finished with his workday, his priestly vestments slightly loosened.

"Aaah…, so handsome…"

"Oh my, he is handsome."

"Mmph, mmph!!"

"Brother, I'm so sorry. My parents are a little… unusual."

And so, this was the first meeting between my family and Professor Niger.