Husband And Wife Are One Flesh

Herman had reserved a famous restaurant beside the opera house. Gazing up at the great chandelier over the entrance, I found myself remembering a time I’d once spent here.

I had a splendid dinner here with Cedric once, on my birthday. And Gloria said it had been a thoroughly lovely time for her, too.

I couldn’t say why something not even a year old should feel like so ancient a memory.

“Gloria.”

I’d been standing at the entrance, lost a moment in other thoughts, and Herman’s voice caught me back to myself as the staff showed him in.

“What is it — not to your liking?”
“No. It’s lovely.”

I’d gotten better at lying. These days I could rattle off flattery without so much as batting an eye.

The attendant, who had waited for our exchange to finish, showed us kindly to our table. When we reached a spot that looked down over the night view of Baltaheim, Herman drew my chair out for me first, as naturally as if it could be no other way.

Was it that small gesture, trifling as it was, that pleased Mother’s eye? She laughed behind a gloved hand, her face nothing like the one she’d worn when she came bursting in on me in a fit of unreason.

“When I heard that you were going off to the war on the Central Continent, I’ll confess my heart resented it to no end. To speak plainly, a mother sets her own child before the Empire — and I was afraid our Gloria, who had scarcely had the chance to enjoy her newlywed days, would be left a widow.”

Herman only nodded quietly at Mother’s lament. His face said he understood her completely, that of course she might feel so.

“Even so, our Gloria was so set on it — insisting it had to be Duke Ernst and no one else — that we had no choice but to give our consent…”
“Ah. Is that so.”

Herman, who had listened to Mother all the while sitting straight-backed, turned abruptly and gave me a faint smile. Not following, I raised my eyebrows, and he tilted his head aslant to match; only then did I realize he was asking whether I really had been so stubborn about it. I had no answer for him, so I held my silence and looked down at the fine tableware.

“But to see you come home safe and sound like this, the two of you together as man and wife — truly, I have not a regret left in the world.”

Mother smiled more contentedly than I had ever seen her. Beside her, Father sipped lightly at his wine, seemingly not at all displeased by the mood that had turned a full about-face.

Strange.

We were passing the time together in one room, and yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was an uninvited guest here.

This happiness was probably meant to be yours.

Had Gloria kept her place as Duchess Ernst, all this worry and love would have been hers.

Put that way, perhaps I too have gone and stolen your happiness.

Of course, it was not as though I had ever harbored the slightest wish to steal your happiness from you.

Searching for somewhere to breathe, I let my gaze drift slowly away, and at the end of that listless look hung Baltaheim, restored to the vitality of night. Even if I gathered up that girl’s share of happiness here, in the place Gloria had cast off and left behind, it did nothing to fill the hollow in my chest.

“At the time, the sole heir of House Ernst suddenly resolving to march off to war threw the whole Empire into an uproar, did it not. I have long wondered what moved you to such a decision, Duke.”

Father, who had been listening quietly, raised the matter with an easy air. He had always taken a keen interest in the imperial army, and he seemed to be seizing his chance to ask.

No one could have called it anything but a decision worthy of the Ernst name. Centuries ago the Ernsts had been known as ‘the Black Knights who guard Balter,’ and the title was far more than a mere epithet. It marked the blood and sweat House Ernst had shed for the Empire, and it stood for a conviction that never bent, however swiftly the times might turn. Their honor ran back through a long history, and their name passed across the Empire as a byword for valor and sacrifice. Never once had the Ernsts been absent from the Empire’s wars, and never once had they failed to win distinctions great and small; this time was no different.

Across so long a history, it had come to seem almost a matter of course that the generals of House Ernst would dutifully pass through the military academy, and Herman Ernst, naturally, had followed the same path.

“I thank you for thinking so well of it, but there was no such grand motive behind it.”

For an instant a deep shadow flitted across Herman’s face. His eyes, sunk in some profound reflection, seemed to trace not the present but some hour long past.

“And is the motive so important a thing? What matters above all is the fact that you went. Had my own son been grown enough to know something of the world, I daresay I would have sent him to the front alongside you. Nay — had I myself been but a little heartier…”
“Dear, whatever are you saying such things for.”

Mother, who had been listening quietly, jabbed Father in the side with her elbow. However much it was mere supposition, she seemed to find it downright unkind of him to speak so, and shot him a sharp glare.

“In any case — unlike this one here, I have always been proud to have married my daughter into so honorable a house.”

The Empire, honor, loyalty. Such things were among the great pillars that made Father who he was. I knew well what it was he took his pride in, and so I could not even bring myself to resent that a father who could not so much as recognize his own flesh-and-blood daughter should be so proud of a son-in-law who shared not a single drop of his blood.

“I am not unaware that House Seymour furnished an astronomical sum in war funds during the campaign. To my mind, a man need not take the field himself to be a soldier.”

For all his looks, Herman had a remarkable gift for saying the things people liked to hear.

“There are few indeed who worry over the Empire and care for it as much as you do, Marquis.”
“Ahem, ahem. Now that is praise far beyond my deserving.”

Never before had I seen Father’s ever-stern, rigid expression melt so softly. I had felt it all along: Herman was uncannily skilled in the social arts, as though his years away from society had been nothing but a lie.

The time that followed flowed by like water. With Herman leading, the conversation ran on without a lull, and the meal, too, was excellent in both flavor and quality.

When the meal was over and my parents were making ready to board their carriage back to the manor, they turned to Herman with their farewells.

“A fine meal it was, Duke. Do come to the Seymour manor sometime. I’ll repay you with some good wine of my own.”
“Yes, do. Be sure to stop by with our Ria. I’ll have everything nicely prepared.”

Herman gave a gentle nod.

“Yes, of course. We shall be sure to call.”

At last this uncomfortable gathering stood but a step from its end.

“And — if I may be so bold.”

At Herman’s words, Father and Mother turned to him at once.

“Should occasion arise to reproach my wife again, do call me along with her. Gloria is no longer of House Seymour, after all, but of House Ernst.”

A faint smile touched his lips as he went on.

“If there’s scolding to be had, I’ll take it alongside her.”

For a moment the air between us froze awkwardly. As if there were anyone in all of Balter who could scold Herman Ernst.

“Ahem, ahem. It does seem the discourtesy today was on our side.”

Father conceded the fault with poor grace, smoothing his mustache, a habit that surfaced in him whenever he was abashed.

“Still, we meant no harm by it. I do hope you have taken no offense, Duke.”

Mother added hastily, looking greatly worried that Herman might have taken offense after all.

“It’s quite all right. I meant only that, should a situation like today’s arise again, you go through me the next time.”

Herman Ernst had a gift for delivering even the same words in a way that gave no offense to the one who heard them. My parents must have felt it too, for they smoothed the moment over with a light laugh.

Then Herman turned the subject with an easy naturalness.

“Ah — before long I mean to purchase a townhouse in the West district of Baltaheim. I’ll send you a proper invitation in due course, so do pay us a visit when you have the time.”

Mother answered that she would be delighted and Father declared he would be sure to attend, but I could not join the conversation, too busy turning Herman’s words over in my mind.

A townhouse…

To buy a townhouse in Baltaheim meant that Herman intended to go on living in the capital.

Surely things can’t be falling into place this easily.

I had thought that once the triumphal ceremony was behind us and the urgent business in the capital was settled, I would have no choice but to go down to the ducal lands.

But buying a townhouse in the capital means he intends to keep living here, doesn’t it.

By the time I had finished getting ready for the night and settled on the edge of the bed, Herman had just come out of the bath, freshly washed. I crossed to him, his hair not yet even dry, and spoke with an eagerness quite unlike my usual manner.

“Herman, are you thinking of living in the capital from now on?”
“What?”
“The townhouse. The one you told my parents you’d buy before long. If it’s the West district of Baltaheim, that would be the high-end quarter right in the heart of Landville, wouldn’t it.”
“Ah, yes. That’s right.”

That, then, was the very quarter where the Drake manor stood. The place where, only a few weeks earlier, I had eaten and slept and lived.

“Then — are we going to be living in the capital now?”

I asked once again, striving to hide the hope brimming in my chest. Herman drew his brow together as though something in my question did not sit right, then slowly shook his head from side to side.

“Hardly. You’re to go down to the ducal lands this weekend.”