Chapter 18

Leaving the shopkeeper’s farewell behind, they each carried a bag filled with plushies – bears, white rabbits, and puppies nestled together. Looking at the puppy doll, she couldn’t help but think it resembled Damian. Come to think of it, he used to be this cute when younger. But now… She shook her head with a small sigh.

Unable to read her thoughts, he asked with genuine curiosity, “When did you learn to shoot?”

“When Father wanted to make me his heir. He taught me, saying I should shoot anyone who dared insult you without knowing their place.”

“…”

The Iron Duke certainly had a unique approach to child-rearing.

Though times were changing and women were increasingly entering society, female heads of houses remained rare. Adoption was still common practice. Yet the Duke had naturally chosen her as his successor. It would have caused quite a social upheaval had it happened. Unfortunately, she’d fled to the Academy, wanting nothing to do with becoming the family head. The Duke must have been furious when his chosen heir ran away.

“What about you? When did you learn? Ah, I suppose it’s basic training for a Crown Prince?”

“Well… something like that.”

What she didn’t know was that he had originally prepared for the Imperial Military Academy – a natural path for the future commander-in-chief. However, upon learning she was taking the Academy entrance exam, he’d immediately switched course and prepared for the Academy instead. He’d never been more grateful for his gifted education in the palace, though the Emperor had only shaken his head at the decision.

“Shall we get something to eat?” he suggested.

“Do you have a place in mind?”

“Of course.”

He led her down an alley, away from prying eyes. She wondered if there was actually a restaurant here. Then, with a sharp crack, the capital city of Kelton vanished, replaced by a brilliant blue expanse.

The sea.

She could hardly believe her eyes. The ocean was at least two days away by train from Kelton, which was why most people used gates for travel. To cover such distance instantly required enormous magical power.

She turned to look at him, but he appeared completely unfazed. She suddenly wondered: what were his limits?

What would happen when he finally reached them?

“Shall we, my lady?” 

Standing on the soft sand, he extended his hand like a proper gentleman. She stared at it quietly. The sound of waves tickled her ears as silver sparkles scattered before her eyes. It felt surreal, like being inside a painting.

She took his hand. He smiled.

The waves continued to crash and break.

* * *


Ant trudged into the office, exhausted. The woman sat in her chair reading a newspaper, cigarette dangling from her lips. She set down the paper as he entered.

“Looking gloomy. How do you expect to do business like that?”

She crushed her nearly finished cigarette in the ashtray. Though the office was thick with smoke, Ant opened the windows without coughing, clearly used to it. The breeze carried away the smoke, bringing in fresh air.

“Oh my. Too grown up to answer back now, are we?”

At her sarcastic tone, he glanced at her and sighed.

“What? Are you looking down on me now?”

“Boss…”

Suddenly, tears welled up in his eyes.

“What should I do?”

“W-what’s wrong?”

“It’s all my fault. I… hic”

Tears started falling, quickly turning into loud sobs. Awkwardly, she approached and patted his back, but this only made him cry harder. She wondered how old he was now – eighteen, just barely an adult. The usually stoic boy was crying his heart out.

Though unsure whether to be happy about this display of emotion, he was like a son to her. She tried her best to comfort him.

“Hey, men shouldn’t cry like this. What happened? Still having a hard time? Want to take a few days off?”

She knew his only friend had been an Academy student who was found dead days ago. She knew the name – Gilrota. He’d talked about him often. The news had only warranted a few lines in the society pages, though it had sparked debate about legal drinking age, with many arguing it should be raised.

She knew Ant hadn’t accepted his friend’s death. He’d visited the security office several times requesting reinvestigation, but without evidence of murder, they’d refused.

Nothing could be done. Life rarely went as planned – she’d learned that lesson many times over her years.

“Boss… hic This… sob”

Still crying, he handed her something. Neat handwriting covered an ordinary piece of paper:

“Ant… I… I don’t know anymore. Have I really lived well until now?”

Though Ant hadn’t said, she knew who’d written it – his only friend, Gilrota.

“His last… hic letter… sob”

“Alright… calm down first, then let’s talk.”

His voice was nasally, his face covered in tears and snot. If she could use magic, she’d clean his face instantly, but unfortunately, she wasn’t a magician.

“Go wash your face first.”

After sending him to the bathroom, she sat on the sofa and reread Gilrota’s letter. He had been regretting something. Also just eighteen, barely an adult. Though she’d heard the Academy was tough, was that really what he’d been regretting?

Based on her life experience, her instincts told her there was more to it.

When Ant returned, his face was red and his eyes swollen. She gestured for him to sit across from her, placing Gilrota’s letter on the table.

“So why is this letter your fault?”

He remained silent at her question. She waited patiently. Finally, after what seemed like ages, he spoke:

“I… I thought it was just about his career. He wanted to become a journalist, so I thought he was worried about whether he’d be suitable.”

“And?”

“But… I don’t think that was it.”

She opened the small box on the table, lit a cigarette, and exhaled smoke like a sigh before asking:

“Why do you think that?”

“The security office said it was an accident. That he drank too much. But…”

He raised his head, red eyes meeting hers. His voice was firm as he declared:

“Gilrota couldn’t drink alcohol.”

* * *


She couldn’t possibly stay away when her sister was getting engaged to ‘that guy’ of all people. Eileen had escaped the duchy mansion at dawn while everyone slept and before their father returned. Jenny, following her inevitable charge, was at her wit’s end. Though she’d served the young lady since childhood, her old-soul mistress could be unpredictable. At times like these, the sisters were truly alike – surely taking after the Duke. Jenny’s mother, who’d worked at the mansion for years, had said the same: the Duke’s blood ran strong in them.

True enough. Their violet eyes reminded Jenny of the Duke. Though not a cruel employer, the Iron Duke’s mere presence was intimidating. Jenny dreaded the consequences. She knew the Duke was returning today – they might even run into him at the gate.

But her young mistress seemed completely unconcerned, chattering away as usual.

“Jenny, do you think sister is really getting engaged?”

Eileen found it absolutely fascinating – like something from a romance novel popular among young ladies. That stubborn, prideful sister of hers, engaged to ‘him’ of all people. What did they call this… ‘enemies to lovers’? No, not quite. Just the end of their pointless dancing around each other. Like finally getting rid of a sweet potato stuck in your throat.

She was excited about teasing her sister, when she noticed Jenny’s restlessness.

“Jenny? Why are you fidgeting like a puppy that needs to pee?”

“My lady, please…”

A lady saying ‘pee’ – her etiquette teacher would faint.

“What? Everyone pees, even you.”

“…”

Such word choices. Jenny felt a headache coming on, her chest tightening. Her mistress clearly had no intention of returning, and she couldn’t go back alone.

Jenny sighed deeply, resting her head against the window. Her wish was modest: if only they could pass through the gate safely.