Chapter 27
After finishing early morning training, I wiped the sweat from my neck with a towel and knocked on the door of Grandfather's office.
Normally, I would hear his low voice say, "Co in," but today there was no reply.
Is he out? I tilted my head, but he had told to co at this ti. For now, I decided to go in and check, so I opened the door after loudly saying, "Excuse ," so he could hear inside.
Like the section where the rooms of high-ranking military officers are located, the office is a place with even stricter access restrictions.
The first thing you see upon entering are personal desks placed on either side. In the center is a long table, and beyond that, a low table and sofa.
And at the very back, with a large window behind it, is the desk where Grandfather sits.
On the personal desks, docunts are piled ssily. The map covering the entire right wall has handwritten notes in various places, and the bookshelf on the left is tightly packed with technical books and categorized files. The thing on the long table that looks like a chessboard seems to be used to simulate battlefields, with unique patterns and shapes that draw attention.
I don't know the value of the things in this room, but there must be a mountain of information that must never be taken outside.
Carefully walking so as not to touch anything, I headed toward the shelf with the tea set.
Grandfather noticed entering the room, raised his head from the docunts once, waved his hand lightly, then returned his eyes to the papers.
For a mont, I thought I would be scolded for entering without permission, but it seed that this was the correct thing to do.
Occasionally tapping his desk with the tip of his pen—tap... tap...—he wrote sothing on the paper, and I prepared tea so as not to disturb him.
He's always been soone who doesn't show his age, but the wrinkles etched into his face and the way he pressed around his eyes as if tired made realize he had grown old.
"Sorry, I had more paperwork piled up than I expected."
"Shall we reschedule?"
"No, I've finished."
He tossed the pen aside, stood up while rolling his neck, sat on the sofa, took a sip of the tea I had prepared, and murmured, "I'm getting old..." which made laugh unintentionally.
"Didn't you deny it when Father said the sa thing?"
"Back then, I was younger than I am now, right?"
I shrugged at Grandfather, who narrowed his eyes and gave a toothy grin, urging him to get to the point.
"Baldo will be coming in two weeks."
"...That's earlier than I expected. Isn't it still the season for hunting parties at the main estate?"
The social season officially begins each year in March with the spring banquet hosted by the Queen.
For about a month, tea parties hosted by noble ladies are held, followed by royal-sponsored theater performances and balls in May, and a music festival at the Royal Music Theater in June.
In August, when the social season ends, a grand ball is held at the royal castle. It's presented as a debut event for the daughters making their social debut that year, but in reality, it's a place for middle- and lower-class nobles to seek fiancés.
After the two-day ball that marks the end of the social season, nobles return from their residences in the Royal Capital to their main estates, where a more modest form of socializing begins—inviting close friends or business associates for hunting parties and dinners.
"Well, you could say this season is busy too, but there's no point in holding hunting or dinner parties without his beloved daughter. I doubt he's hosted any since Celestia left ho."
"...Do you really think so?"
But at ho, there's Stepmother and Mirabel.
While I've been away, didn't Father spend joyful tis with Stepmother, and Lord Floyd with Mirabel?
Just imagining it made my chest ache, and I began to doubt if this was really the right choice.
"You're going to get Baldo's permission to enter the military school, right?"
"Yes."
He saw right through the doubts that had started to swell when I heard Father was coming.
I thought I was hiding it well, but Grandfather must have noticed.
"Grandfather, are you also against entering the military school?"
On the parental consent form for the military school, I had planned to write Grandfather's na instead of Father's.
But Grandfather returned the form, saying, "Have your parent sign it," so I had no choice but to send it ho with a letter.
The form was never returned, and neither Father nor Uncle Ruget has agreed to entering the military school.
I knew this would happen, but with the entrance date approaching, I couldn't help but feel uneasy.
"I'm not exactly against it, am I?"
A hand reached out and was gently placed on my head, then ruffled my hair.
"I was planning to tell Father after I enrolled."
"By letter? Either way, it's sothing you'll have to talk about eventually."
"Do you think he'll give his permission? He's definitely going to oppose it."
"If he does, will you give up and return to your old life? Well, that's one option, I suppose."
"Grandfather..."
"I can offer advice. I can take your hand when you reach out. But the path you walk must be chosen by you. It's your one and only life—don't leave it to others or push the responsibility onto them. It may sound harsh, but I won't live long enough to take responsibility for my grandchild's life!"
"Ouch!?"
I rubbed my forehead where he had smacked and looked at the laughing Grandfather with a protesting gaze.
"Tell Baldo everything—no holding back—about why you left ho and entered the military school."
"Everything...?"
"If you're going to give up thinking it's useless to say anything, then it's not too late to talk after that, is it?"
"So that's why you refused to sign..."
"So that neither Baldo nor Celestia will have regrets."
Before the grief of losing my mother had even healed, I gained a stepmother and a stepsister. My fiancé prioritized my stepsister over , and in the end, I lost everything and faced ruin.
I swallowed my complaints and endured, not wanting to burden my busy father.
The one ti I voiced my feelings, they were brushed aside, and nothing changed. I continued to give up, disappointed in my father and disillusioned with my fiancé.
What could possibly change now?
"I won't have any regrets."
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