Chapter 146
Chapter 146
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 146
Chapter Title: 13. Cutting Water with a Sword (6)
"H-Here, try this too."
Yustina felt like she was suffocating. The Calamity Duke couldn't hold back his laughter no matter what. Her father was desperately trying to say something. And her big brother was just poking at his bread with a sullen expression.
In this stifling atmosphere, where even breathing quietly was a struggle, she couldn't tell if the soup she'd just swallowed had gone down her throat or up her nose.
Her father looked like he was dying too, stammering with shaking eyes.
She stole a glance at her big brother, who was mechanically chewing and swallowing the food in front of him without a word, then quickly bowed her head again as her throat tightened.
"Son."
"Who are you calling son?"
"I'm playing the mom role right now."
"Sigh. Yes. What is it?"
"I heard cooking is your hobby. Think you could whip up a dessert for your son?"
She could feel her father flinch at those words. One of the main reasons the rift between her father and big brother had grown so irreparably wide was that her father had outright banned her big brother's hobby of cooking.
And in the way her big brother hated most—scolding the servants around him on his behalf.
Yustina noticed from the duke's expression that he'd said it on purpose.
This guy's got a filthy temper.
Now she finally understood where Rias got that hot-headed personality from, and why someone as ill-tempered as Rias felt pressured at home and threw herself at Prince Christoph.
That's the cause.
"Well, it's not hard. Father."
"...Fine."
"You'll allow it?"
At the probing question, her father closed his eyes once, then covered them with his right hand as he replied.
"Do as you wish."
"Then I'll finish eating and step out for a bit."
True to his word, her big brother quickly finished his meal and vanished.
As she watched him close the door behind him, her father let out a deep sigh. It was the most exhausted and pathetic he'd ever looked.
"You've got a lot to answer for."
"What are you talking about?"
"If you'd just let him do what he wanted, he would've handled his duties just fine on his own. No need to strangle him and mess with the people around him, making him feel guilty for nothing."
"And a guy who knows that compares his daughter to Yulius and twists her up?"
"Fiancés need to be a matched pair."
"...Right. That was definitely my fault. But what parent would think a child not even ten years old could handle everything on their own?"
"But you could've solved it with a conversation. Like allowing cooking in exchange for doing other tasks."
"...."
The Calamity Duke was needling him gently but with words that were hard to refute. To Yustina, he seemed annoying, but it was also a rare sight to see her father talking with a friend like this, so she watched with interest.
After that one-sided verbal beating continued, her big brother returned carrying four drinks and one large plate.
"Oatmeal cookies and coffee."
"Coffee? Oh, right, you said you were opening a shop. From there?"
"...Yes."
The duke didn't know the full details of her big brother's situation, so his attitude was lighthearted.
On the other hand, her father—who had so despised that hobby—stared at the results of it in bewilderment.
In the end, the duke took his coffee and cookies first and returned to his seat. Then Yustina, and finally her father.
After locking eyes with her big brother, who stood guard by the dish, her father picked up a cookie with slightly trembling fingertips and took a cautious bite.
"Mm. This is good. You made it with whatever ingredients were on hand?"
"Yes."
"Not too sweet, not too dry."
"I practiced back at the academy too."
"I remember your grades were excellent."
"I'm not idiot enough to neglect my duties for a hobby."
The duke, who'd drawn out those words, grinned at her father, whose expression grew even more wretched.
"This coffee has a unique flavor."
"Th-Those berries used to rouse soldiers on the battlefield. Made from those."
"Oh. Bitter taste, but the aroma is nice in its own way. I like it."
"...I prefer this over the cookies too."
"It helps you stay awake if you drink it late at night while working."
Yustina watched the scene in a daze, then grabbed the hem of her big brother's clothes as he came over to hand her her share of coffee and cookies.
"Big brother."
"Yeah?"
"N-Never mind."
She let go of his hand and swallowed what she'd meant to say. It didn't feel right to say anything to him when their father had been hurting him all this time.
The duke—who genuinely seemed to like it—had already eaten three cookies and ordered a refill on his coffee. While her big brother was away refilling it, he nudged her father's side with his elbow.
"So, what do you think?"
"...If he'd practiced from even younger, he'd be even better."
"Sure. It won't help much as a vice-duke."
Was closing his eyes just reminiscing about the past, or shutting the windows of his soul to hide his emotions?
Amid her father's inscrutable expression and silence, the door opened, and her big brother returned with the entire pot to refill the coffee.
Her big brother asked with his eyes if he needed more, but since she hadn't even taken a sip while watching her father, she shook her head.
"Ah. Good taste and wakes you up. You selling it?"
"Yes. We've got a product you can make just by placing it over hot water."
"You're good at business too. Deliver later?"
"Anywhere with teleport gates."
"Nice."
Her father, who'd been listening to the exchange between the duke and her big brother, quietly spoke up.
"You've always excelled at everything since you were little."
"I wasn't good at everything."
"Still, you always surpassed my expectations. So..."
If he'd been allowed to pursue other things freely too.
The regret-tinged words slipped out in a slightly hoarse voice.
Her big brother looked a bit surprised, his right eyebrow twitching up slightly.
The words her father—who rarely showed emotion—muttered softly with sad eyes vanished into the air, but her big brother, lips pressed in a crooked line, quietly returned to his seat and sighed.
"Father."
"...Yes."
"What I like most is sitting quietly and working in silence, without a word."
"I see."
"Even with close friends around. As long as they understand my silence isn't awkward or uncomfortable, I like feeling each other's presence in that comfortable quiet."
"...."
"That's why, at the café when there are few customers, my routine is sitting in my spot wiping dust off cups with a clean cloth. No one seeking me out, no one spilling beans or clinging, no one forcing smiles for gain despite mutual discomfort. Just being with someone who understands my thoughts without words."
Her father seemed to lack even the strength to speak anymore.
Sitting there, staring at his half-empty soup bowl without lifting his eyes, he listened like a sinner.
"I know I can't just do what I like, what makes me comfortable. I understand the social duties that come with being born a Lebedev, the obligations of a noble receiving taxes to protect his taxpaying people. But at least, I don't want to live a life defined only by duty."
"...."
"What I needed wasn't a mother who wouldn't hug me because my training clothes were dirty when I came back from practice, or a father who only saw me as heir, or a little sister who idolized me like some icon. Just one person to quietly watch over whatever I was doing."
Finishing his words, her big brother exhaled lightly and began clearing his tableware.
Refusing to leave it to the servants—perhaps a declaration that he had no intention of returning as a noble.
With a clatter, the plates were neatly stacked in his hands.
"I'm sorry."
"No need for apologies."
"No, still, I'm sorry. I thought you'd excel as a noble. And that excelling meant it suited you. But I didn't realize doing well doesn't mean you enjoy it."
Her big brother waited, still holding the dishes, for her father to continue.
Yustina herself listened intently to their exchange, as if entranced.
"I'm truly sorry. No matter how I say it, it'll sound like an excuse, but if I have to give a reason..."
With a face full of shame and misery at himself for saying this—discarding even the pride he'd clung to as a father—he spoke.
"I didn't know any other way. Me, my father, my grandfather. We all lived like that."
Her big brother paused briefly at those words, closed his eyes as if settling his emotions, sighed, and left for his room without a farewell.
"Father."
"Yes."
"I didn't know any other way either."
"Of course. I never taught you."