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At his brother's merciless confirmation, Achilles let his head drop weakly. Never once had their father said words like thank you or I'm sorry. He had never worried that his children might be criticized and hurt, nor had he ever tried to shield them from hardship. And yet, Achilles had still harbored a small hope, maybe this time would be different.
If the Emperor himself had summoned their father and confiscated a quarter of their territory, it was obvious what kind of whispers would follow. What would people say about the sons left behind in the capital?
'…Well, it's true. Father has never cared about me or my brother.'
Even five years ago, the only thing their father had concerned himself with was making sure Ariette wasn't the subject of gossip. He had never once asked about Achilles's academy life. It was probably the same when Alexander had studied at the academy as well.
Sensing Achilles's gloom, Alexander spoke gently.
"Don't bother worrying about Father anymore, Achilles. Instead, why don't we head home today and ask Arie to have dinner with us? I'll tell the cook to prepare one of your favorite dishes."
"…Do you think we'll have venison at home?"
"Venison? That might be difficult. We haven't had any guests recently, so there wouldn't be a reason to buy it."
Venison, and other foods Ariette disliked, were only ever found in the house when Achilles brought it back from hunting season or when an important guest was being hosted.
Of course, if he truly wanted it, they could simply stop by a restaurant. It wasn't an issue worth fussing over.
"Then let's just ask for roasted duck. Arie likes that, after all. But… do you think she'll agree to eat with us? Lately she hasn't been joining us at meals."
"Today she'll probably be in a good mood. After meeting with Her Majesty the Empress, she came back together with Lady Sharon."
At the mention of Letticia's name, Achilles's energy drained away once more.
When he'd first learned that their father had drawn a blade on Lenard, the very first thing that came to his mind was something she had once said.
"Do you realize that, just because of what you said, I might get so angry that I'd never see Lady Averil again? You claim you care about your sister, but why say things that would only drive a wedge between her and her friend?"
Since hearing those words, that his attempts to protect Ariette could end up harming her instead, Achilles had been trying to be a little more careful.
But now, since Letticia's own brother had nearly been hurt because of their father, Achilles couldn't help but worry, what if Letticia truly decided to cut ties with Ariette out of anger this time?
"…Was Lady Sharon very upset?"
"She seemed pretty hurt, yes. But when Arie asked if she could also teach her some other lessons in refinement, Lady Sharon agreed. So I think things will be fine going forward."
"…Speaking of that, when you said Arie should be allowed to learn whatever she wants, did you really mean it?"
After their father was sent down to the territory, Alexander had suddenly allowed Ariette full freedom in her education. He even said it would be fine if she chose to make her debut. That had surprised Achilles even more than Ariette herself.
"You used to hate the idea of Arie learning those things. Even when Father summoned us and scolded us, you kept opposing it. Why the sudden change of heart?"
"If we want to show that we're different from Father, we have to. Right now, the House of Averil needs to cast off Father's shadow. As acting head, enduring a few things I dislike is the least I can do for that."
"…So it really is true then, that Father's way was wrong?"
If it was for Ariette, one shouldn't hesitate over something as small as the consequences. Someone unwilling to make sacrifices for Ariette couldn't claim to love her.
Yet ironically, the one who had followed that creed most strictly—Father—had only brought great harm to the family and ended up banished from the capital.
Now Ariette even refused to communicate with him. To Achilles, who had always treated their father's methods like sacred doctrine, it was nothing but confusing.
Alexander answered Achilles's troubled question with a bitter expression.
"Don't you think you already know the answer? If Father's way had truly been right, would Arie have shut herself away in her room and refused to eat?"
"…Then does that mean we were wrong too, for following Father's way?"
"Achilles."
Alexander's cold expression softened slightly as he spoke with firm weight to his shaken brother.
"Even if we had realized back then that Father's way was wrong, what could we have done?"
"…Maybe later, we could have secretly apologized, without Father knowing…"
"And if Father had found out? Do you think the knights guarding us would've taken our side, or Father's?"
"…Father's side. He was the Duke."
The Averil knights swore loyalty to the Duke himself. His orders carried the greatest weight. If Achilles had acted against his will, the knights would have immediately reported him.
"Exactly. And what do you think would have happened to us then?"
"…At best, we'd have been locked up in the dungeon. At worst… erased from the family registry."
Achilles's face stiffened as he thought of the underground dungeon where intruders and assassins were tortured.
He'd never been imprisoned there, but even as an adult who had seen much of the world, just recalling that moldy, blood-soaked place was enough to make his skin crawl.
"Right. So don't torment yourself with thoughts like, Why didn't we make a different choice? We never had that option."
"…."
"Don't wear that expression either. Father's gone now. From here on, we can change things."
Alexander patted Achilles's shoulder lightly. It was an unfamiliar gesture, but it loosened the tension in Achilles's body a little.
"If we're to change… then how should we change?"
"We have to remember one thing clearly, we mustn't take things to extremes like Father did. As long as we start with that, we'll be fine."
"…."
"Don't worry, Achilles. Now it's just Arie, you, and me. With Father gone, we don't have to live under his shadow anymore. That man who never once knew how to say thank you, or sorry, to us."
At those words, the memory of the day their father left for the territory flashed before Achilles's eyes.
When Alexander and Achilles had gone to see him off as he boarded the carriage, their father had spoken only a single sentence to them.
"While I'm gone, don't let any worthless men approach Arie."
For a moment, Achilles had stood there blankly, before nodding as if spellbound.
***
After work, Ezkhiel was spending the evening with Lenard for the first time in a while.
Ever since he had started seeing Letticia, the time the two of them spent alone together had lessened, and so they had a fair amount to catch up on.
The topic of Achilles only came up after dinner, when Lenard brought out an expensive bottle of whiskey and Ezkhiel had prepared some herbal tea.
"Come to think of it, I ran into the knight commander on my way home today. He said he wanted to apologize to you."
"Apologize? Sir Achilles Averil?"
Still holding the unopened bottle, Lenard paused for a moment, half-wondering if he was already drunk.
"I already got apologies from both the Duke and Sir Averil. What reason would he have to come and apologize to me again?"
"To be exact, he said he hadn't realized what the Duke was doing, and he regretted not even thanking you for bringing Lady Averil back safely. He wants to apologize for that. If you're willing, he'd like to say it to you directly. If not, he said he'll write a letter."
"Then just tell him I'll accept the sentiment. I don't feel the need to meet him in person just to hear it."
"Got it. I'll tell him that next time we meet."
Ezkhiel nodded, then let out a small yawn. As Lenard was pouring drinks, he noticed how tired Ezkhiel looked and asked with concern.
"You seem even more exhausted than you were around this time last year. Did your workload suddenly increase again?"
"It's because of the Averil Duchy lands that were confiscated. His Majesty entrusted the matter to the Crown Prince to handle."
"Ah…"
Imagining the countless administrative issues tied to land confiscation, Lenard gave his friend a sympathetic look. Ezkhiel, catching it, drank his herbal tea with a weary expression.
"On top of that, I still have to settle the hunting regulation issue before the autumn season begins. With everything piling up, sometimes I just want to curse the Duke and wish his hair would all fall out."
"Then do it. Letty's been wishing lightning would strike him, so your curse would be mild by comparison."
"You don't curse him yourself, though."
"That's because direct retaliation suits me better than muttering curses that might actually come true."
"…Are you planning some sort of retaliation this time too?"
Recalling how Lenard had dealt with enemies back in their academy days, Ezkhiel asked cautiously.
But Lenard swirled his glass a few times and shook his head.
"His Majesty has already delivered punishment, and compensation has been given in equal measure. Doing anything more wouldn't be retaliation, it'd be annihilation. If I went that far, I'd lose any claim to justice and it'd just backfire."
"So you're satisfied with His Majesty's punishment?"
"More or less. Though what I can't stand is how the Duke immediately fled back to his estate after being exiled from the capital. He caused the mess, but he dumped all the aftermath onto his sons."
"Well, His Highness said the same thing."
When he heard the report of the Duke's actions, Matthias had looked as though he'd strangle the man if he had been standing in front of him.
From Matthias's perspective—having been planning a political marriage with Ariette—this was nothing short of a disaster. Still, it wasn't something he could just let slide. The only conclusion had been punishment.
Because of that, Matthias had been in a foul mood for over a week. Most of the officials who came to report were so frightened that they clung to Ezkhiel instead, forcing him to spend endless hours rearranging meeting schedules.
As he remembered all this, Ezkhiel's gaze drifted, almost unconsciously, toward the bottle of whiskey Lenard had brought.
Lately, he was beginning to understand why some of his colleagues sought comfort at the bottom of a glass.*
🍓; *Bottom of a glass here symbolizes an empty glass of alcohol, and comfort refers to the temporary relief or escape people feel when they drink.
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