Chapter 8

-Clang.

As Vivian set down her utensils, the sound echoed through the spacious dining hall.

“...”

She sat at the head of the long dining table, biting her lip.

She quietly surveyed the now-empty dining space.

Once, this table had been full of life.

Father, Mother, and even her older brother.

Then, the maids attending them would bustle about, filling the air with the warmth of human presence.

But now, Vivian was alone.

There was no one to eat with, no one to share conversations with.

No one to laugh with, to share daily life with, or even to have light quarrels with.

The stark contrast hit her hard.

And there would be no one in the future.

Because there was no one left in this castle who could share a meal with the head of Rondor.

If anyone at all, perhaps Madam Linne or her other tutors could.

But they all had families of their own, so there was no need for them to dine with Vivian.

“...”

When you dine alone, you come to realize that food becomes truly tasteless.

One or two days might be bearable, but eating three meals alone every day makes you lose your appetite.

Every time she put a bite of food into her mouth, it felt like she was swallowing emptiness as well, making it hard to get anything down.

So once again, Vivian put down her utensils without finishing half her meal and wiped her mouth.

“...I-I’m done.”

Her pathetic stuttering hadn’t improved in the slightest.

The only thing that had changed with Madam Linne’s lessons was one thing.

She felt even more worthless for stuttering.

.

.

.

-Smack!!

“Ugh...”

Vivian bit her lip and endured Madam Linne’s caning.

No matter how many times she was struck with the iron cane on her already bruised spots, she never got used to it.

But if she showed she wasn’t used to it by making a sound, she would be beaten more, so she had to forcibly suppress her groans.

“...Again.”

“...Gob...lins, if their ex...termination is delayed, are crea...crea...creatures that cause great harm to the ter...territory—”

-Smack!!

“Ugh...”

“...Again.”

“...”

Vivian glanced sideways at Madam Linne.

With her eyes closed and hand on her forehead, she was evaluating Vivian’s reading.

Recently, as Vivian’s speech showed no improvement, emotions were starting to seep into the punishment.

Vivian could clearly feel it.

Whether it was punishment for the sake of punishment or punishment to vent anger... it was easier to tell than one might think.

“Sigh.”

As expected, before long, Madam Linne concluded the lesson.

“Let’s stop here for today, Lady Vivian. It’s time... for your economics class.”

It was an earlier finish than usual, but Vivian didn’t object. She would do anything to get through this hellish time.

“...”

But just how long would she have to keep doing this?

Her speech showed no signs of improvement, and she couldn’t complain about the pain.

They said this lesson would continue until she became an adult... Could she really endure it until then?

It was already so hard even though only a month had passed...

“...I hope you’ll be better next time than you were today.”

“...”

There was no hope in sight.

That, more than anything else, was what made it even harder for her.

.

.

.

“It’s a demand notice.”

Treasurer Brynden said as he skimmed through a document.

“It’s a letter from Count Corrad demanding repayment of the grain and gold borrowed by the Rondor family.”

“...B-but we have nothing to p-pay back right now.”

“I know. There’s nothing we can do. We’ll have to ask for more time again.”

“…”

“…It feels like more demand notices have been coming since you became the head, Lady Vivian. Really...”

Brynden muttered.

He was also one of those who had opposed her declaration not to appoint a regent.

Perhaps that’s why his tone just now seemed to hint at something: Isn’t this happening because she, as the head of the family, is being underestimated?

But it wasn’t a statement she could refute.

At some level, he might be right.

Vivian sighed. She felt like even her head hurt from the pressure weighing down on her chest.

.

.

.

“An ex-execution trial?”

“Yes. Lady Vivian, you need to affix your seal.”

“...Me?”

“That authority lies only with the lord.”

“…”

The First Knight Commander, Sir Baelor, presented the document and asked her to review it.

An execution order for a death row inmate.

The moment she stamped it, someone’s life would be taken.

“…”

No matter how much the person deserved to die, the weight of life was still heavy for Vivian.

Just thinking that someone would die the moment she stamped it made her hands tremble.

A few months ago, she was someone far from responsibility.

She was caring for her mother, sometimes looking at flowers, and taking walks.

Now she had to manage money and people’s lives.

“Please take out your seal.”

Sir Baelor urged.

The maids all looked at Vivian, awaiting her decision.

Under that pressure, Vivian took out the seal from the desk.

A seal that only the head of Rondor could possess.

When she held it, it felt heavier than she expected. And this texture… She believed it would never feel familiar in her hand.

“…”

-Tremble tremble...

Vivian’s hand shook as she tried to stamp the document.

After all, if she stamped it, she would be killing a person for the first time.

“—Ugh!”

Vivian, overwhelmed by sudden nausea, dropped the seal.

At the same time, tears welled up from shame.

“Ugh!”

But the nausea didn’t stop.

Sir Baelor, watching her, quietly sighed.

“…Sigh.”

At that short sigh, Vivian’s heart sank.

There was a certain atmosphere adults displayed in front of her. It was piling up one by one.

Lately, it felt like everyone was looking down on her.

No one understood her position, where everything was sudden and difficult.

Madam Linne’s words that showing weakness would only make her be underestimated were true... but she didn’t want to confirm it like this.

-Swoosh.

“I’ll come back another time.”

Sir Baelor looked at the retching Vivian, then gathered up the documents and turned away.

.

.

.

Vivian sat alone before the grave of the Duchess of Rondor.

She had many things she wanted to say, but now that she was here, she maintained silence for a while.

Partly because she simply enjoyed this silence...

...and partly because she hated her own stuttering, and because voicing her weaknesses had become difficult.

A mere month was enough time to instill various habits in her.

It was supposed to be preparation to become the head of Rondor, but Vivian was losing herself.

“...D-did you want this?”

Facing her mother after so long, Vivian couldn’t speak kindly.

It was her mother who had appointed Madam Linne as her tutor. Her will had even permitted severe punishments.

“Y-you’re too much. W-why... did you do this?”

Vivian gently stroked her arms, covered in bruises.

Because it was her mother’s last wish, it was hard to resist Madam Linne. That was exactly why she foolishly endured everything.

Vivian hugged her knees and buried her face in them.

“...I-it’s okay to struggle, Mother.”

She whispered.

“...I-I can endure... the pain too.”

For the first time in a while, she allowed herself to voice her weakness.

“B-being l-lonely... I-I can get used to that too, right?”

Vivian’s voice gradually became choked with tears.

“B-but... it’s s-so... sob... hard, and... it hurts... being lonely is... too p-painful.”

Tears streamed down again.

“...G-grown-ups... sob... are s-so scary.”

Today, while wandering the castle, she overheard whispers along the walls.

It might have been a maid, a retainer, or perhaps one of her tutors.

She didn’t know who they were, but they whispered.

That the one who should have died was Vivian Rondor, not Royce Rondor.

If that had been the case, Roctana and the House of Rondor wouldn’t be shaking like this.

It was a statement severe enough to catch the person, punish them, and exile them from the territory, but... Vivian, whose self-esteem was shattered, ran away as soon as she heard it.

Perhaps partly because she felt that what they said was true.

If her brother had lived instead of her, he would have managed this place well.

He was called the future of Rondor, after all.

Vivian wiped her tears with the back of her hand and quietly gazed at the grave.

This was the land of Rondor, but no one from Rondor welcomed her.

No one understood her circumstances.

Everyone only saw her as a tool. From that standpoint, Vivian was a broken tool.

A tool that was useless.

Lost in silence for a long time, Vivian gently voiced a thought she had held for a long time.

“...Mother.”

Every time she endured and held on the same question surfaced in her mind.

“...C-can I... come over there too?”

The grave offered no reply.

****

“...C-can I... come over there too?”

I happened to overhear Vivian.

I couldn’t react at all.

“…”

I didn’t know how to respond or what to do.

Confused, I pretended not to have heard and turned away.

Vivian, sitting before the grave, gave the impression of a candle.

Her red hair fluttered in the wind, but she looked as if she might extinguish at any moment.

When people say someone looks like a corpse, they must be referring to a sight like that.

Ever since I learned that her arms were covered in bruises, her changes became more evident to me.

These days, her complexion was truly poor.

And the worse she looked, the more I sought her out.

Not long ago, I had such a thought.

I didn’t know which expression was better: the angry face she showed me or that sad one.

But now I know.

I’d rather she showed me an angry face.

At least then, I wouldn’t feel uneasy when I turned away.

When she’s angry, she doesn’t seem like she’ll just drop dead like that.

“…”

A corner of my heart ached.

Lately, I’ve been consistently observing her daily life.

I’ve witnessed both her efforts and her struggles.

Each of her heartrending struggles shakes me deeply.

These days, I feel an undeniable sense of guilt.

Our family cannot entirely avoid responsibility for the life she’s leading.

I could understand her hatred toward me.

Since it was war, I have no reason to apologize or to make amends.

...But I felt human compassion, and it wasn’t something I could control at will.

Was this the feeling my father spoke of when he said we must protect the weak?

For the first time here, I vaguely understood his meaning.

.

.

.

“...C-can I... come over there too?”

Even after entering my quarters and lying down on the bed, her words wouldn’t leave my mind.

Even the tremor in her voice as she spoke was vividly clear.

I knew for certain.

That if she chose death as she said, I would never forget this moment for the rest of my life.

It would become a death that would haunt me like a curse.

She wasn’t my family, friend, or even an acquaintance, but an enemy... Yet her death would undoubtedly burden me.

Maybe that’s why my eyes kept seeking her out.

But what am I supposed to do?

We’re not close enough for me to tell her to stay strong, nor am I in a position to say such things. Those kinds of words probably wouldn’t help anyway.

Besides, I’m too overwhelmed to confront the adults, so I can’t ask Madam Linne or the retainers of Rondor to improve Vivian’s treatment.

But...

“Kylo, if I were to leave... could you look after my daughter? Like a knight, I mean.”

The Duchess’s voice echoed in my mind.

“I showed you mercy. If you have any conscience, Kylo Allen... show mercy to our family as well. If I’m gone and your side wins the war and tramples our family... make sure my younger sister and mother don’t suffer disgrace...”

And the voice of Royce Rondor, who was nineteen at the time, soon followed.

“...Sigh.”

In the end, I made up my mind.

I decided to head to Vivian’s room.

I didn’t know what I would say... but I didn’t want to agonize over it any longer—

“—Well now. Young master, where are you going?”

Just then, three boys blocked my path.

They slowly rose from their beds and used their bodies to block the entrance to the quarters.

Each one was bigger than me. They were all two or three years older than me.

I vaguely knew their names.

The fat one was Balon, the skinny one was Willas and the one with many pimples was Martin.

They approached, tilting their heads side to side.

...So that day had come.

Big smiles were spread across their faces.

Balon spoke.

“We’ve been late in introducing ourselves, haven’t we?”

– – – The End of The Chapter – – –

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