ASDM 26

Chapter 26

Maybe it was because she had given up her little crush, but it was obvious her enthusiasm for Bastion had faded.

I waved my hands as if shooing away a bothersome pigeon.

“Enough. Go find your calling somewhere else.”

“Huh?”

“You know Sol Academy, right?”

Bibi nodded as if it were obvious.

Sol Academy in the South.

In the Amanta Empire, it was the most famous arts-focused academy after Rev Academy.

Most of the renowned stage actors everyone knew were said to be graduates of Sol Academy.

Since I had a lot to do, I didn’t bother with a long explanation and simply pushed Bibi forward.

“I already told Hugo, so you can leave right away.”

“What—”

“Do well on the entrance test. If you fail, don’t come back.”

“Wait, hold on—!”

Bibi, who had been pushed along in a daze all the way to the door, spun around to face me. She clearly couldn’t make sense of the situation.

I sighed and finally spoke my mind.

“Listen, Bibi. I don’t have much.”

“…”

“Sure, I’m going to be the future wife of the young Duke Bastion, I’m pretty, cute, I have holy power, and I’m good enough to even charm Levi—”

“Ugh, enough already.”

“What I mean is, I’m calling it sponsorship, but really, I’m just investing in you. For the sake of a possible future.”

In the original story, Asha was a crown princess with ability, good character, and popularity among the people… and that was all.

Most nobles looked down on her as lowborn whether she was alive or after she died. In the end, she had nothing but the title of “Saint.”

I just vaguely thought to myself that I didn’t want to live like her.

I didn’t necessarily have some grand ambition or want to rise spectacularly, but I certainly didn’t want to be an incompetent, disrespected duchess in the public eye.

That’s why I was working to escape illiteracy, even if I whined about how hard it was.

“People say a person is the greatest asset. And I think you’re worth investing in, Bibi.”

If you raise any sapling well from the start, the fruit will eventually be yours.

But really, I just wanted a talented girl like Bibi to do something suited to her aptitude and desires.

If I were being brutally honest, maybe it was just a form of self-consolation born of my own shortcomings.

Anyway—

“You have to succeed and pay me back double, okay?”

We hooked our pinkies to seal the promise.

Bibi’s limp finger gradually tightened around mine.

Yeah, she’d be fine.

Better worry about my own brain instead.

Hello? You in there?

After sending Bibi off with mixed feelings, I tapped my hard skull and returned to my seat.

Why was it that these cursed books—supposedly written in easy language—never seemed to run out, and the papers I had to copy never seemed to decrease?

After fidgeting with my pen for a while like a sad grub, I pulled out some pretty stationery from the desk drawer.

Literacy’s greatest perk wasn’t just being able to send someone a dismissal notice.

It had also seriously improved the quality of my letters to my child groom.

Save me. Before death. I wait for you. Only you.

A plea so powerful Hemingway himself would weep.

I was about to fold it up with satisfaction when I added a P.S.

I miss you.

“Ahem.”

Embarrassing.

Somehow, sending a letter felt more ticklishly awkward than flirting face-to-face.

I wondered if the recipient felt the same. Judging by the replies, I doubted it.

I send letters every day, yet he replies maybe once for every ten I send.

And even then, it was usually just a one-word answer to my barrage of questions—Yes.—or, if I begged and whined, a grudging I’m fine.

I slid the letter into an envelope in a practiced motion and glanced with discontent at the small stack of replies in my drawer.

“Sigh…”

A communication dead-end.

Seriously, how was he even getting through school life?

Was he beyond just having no friends, to the point where everyone—teachers included—avoided him like a walking disaster?

The more I thought about it, the more it made grim sense.

He’s not really a psychopath once you get to know him, though.

As someone who had nearly died by his hand yet also been saved by him, my objective assessment was that there was an odd innocence hidden under his misplaced viciousness.

There was even a subtly cute side—

“I was wrong.”

“Mm!”

Good. I didn’t jump as much this time.

I could finally handle my sudden-appearance father-in-law. Well done, my heart.

Pleased, I patted my chest and asked,

“What were you wrong about?”

“Here.”

“Oh, you’re right.”

I drew quick lines under the wrong words in the book and corrected them.

Behind me, I could hear him mumbling something about worms, but I ignored it.

“Is it time to eat already?”

“Yes.”

Lately, Wolfgang and the household staff had been paying even more attention to my meals.

Apparently, realizing they had to take in even my clothes for a seven-year-old had come as quite a shock.

Bastion’s taller than average, so the contrast must’ve been even worse.

I quickly set my pen down and took Wolfgang’s hand.

I was just as eager for this legitimate chance to escape the library.

“Let’s go, Father!”

Wolfgang looked down at my hand clinging to his.

“It’s healed.”

“You mean where I got cut?”

Now that he mentioned it, it had completely healed—no scar at all.

Well, it had been a while, and the maids had been slathering suspicious ointment on it morning and night.

I shrugged.

“That’s the perk of being young and fresh.”

“You don’t talk like it.”

Afraid my reaction gave me away, I quickly tugged him along, chattering about how hungry I was.

The letter on my desk would be mailed by the maid who came to clean while I was gone.

All the staff we passed in the corridor smiled warmly and bowed—not at Wolfgang, but at me, I was pretty sure.

The more I thought about it, the stranger it was.

Shouldn’t they feel at least a little awkward about it?

Liking me and accepting me as their lady were two different things.

It’s not like this world was especially generous about social climbing.

Even in the original story, there were moments where Asha, the lowborn heroine, got criticized for being involved with the crown prince.

Clearly, this was a world with social classes and discrimination, so it was odd. Not that I minded…

Wait, where are we going?

Wolfgang walked past the dining room and headed into the garden, already warm with the changing season.

I followed curiously until I saw Benjamin waiting with a large carriage.

Oh, could it be—

“Are we eating out?”

“I happen to have business to attend to.”

Two birds with one stone, Benjamin said as he opened the carriage door.

I was admiring the carriage’s living-room-like interior when I suddenly realized something else.

“…You go outside too, Father.”

I’d been half-worried he’d grow mushrooms from staying indoors so much.

Feeling oddly proud of him, I was watching him when Betty, my personal maid, came running out in a panic.

“My lady, your hair!”

“Oh.”

Right. I should fix that first.

The hair the maids had brushed smooth that morning had long since regained its wild independence.

Wolfgang held out his hand to Betty, who was clutching a brush and some hair ties.

“Give them to me.”

He wanted… these?

Betty, looking like a frightened sloth, hesitated before handing them over—like she was being mugged.

My hair-rescue tools ended up in Wolfgang’s large, calloused hands.

“Get in.”

With a jerk of his chin, he urged me into the carriage, so I awkwardly climbed in with Benjamin.

Wolfgang followed, and soon we were on our way.

As I waved to the still-stiff Betty outside, the carriage rolled smoothly out of the Bastion estate.

Now that I think about it, this is my first real outing too.

Asha’s entire world had been the temple and the surrounding forest. The only time she’d left was when I’d traveled over the mountains with the wolves to get to Bastion.

I pressed myself to the window, gawking at the passing scenery like I was watching an old foreign film. Then, suddenly, my hair was yanked.

“Ugh.”

Wolfgang, who had been randomly trying to brush my hair, looked from the empty brush in his hand to my head, baffled.

What’s wrong with this? his eyes seemed to say.

Even Benjamin across from us was watching with interest as the brush got stuck in my hair.

Insensitive straight-haired people!

I yanked the brush free from near my crown with some effort.

“You can’t just start brushing from the top!”

“Then?”

“You have to start from the bottom and work your way up, like this!”

I grabbed a section and demonstrated briskly. Wolfgang watched carefully.

“It’s more like grooming an animal than a person.”

He didn’t forget to add a snide remark.

And because it was said in genuine observation rather than mockery, it somehow annoyed me more—and left me nothing to retort.

Wolfgang took the brush from my trembling fist and, following my example, began brushing my hair properly.

Hmph. If he thought this would make me forgive him… well, maybe it would a little.

Having someone else brush your hair feels surprisingly nice.

The gentle rasp of the brush through my softening hair blended with my quiet humming.

Soon, Wolfgang’s hands produced a perfect set of pigtails—he was surprisingly quick to pick up both the brushing and tying.

“All done?”

I used the window as a mirror to check.

Wow, a perfectly even part. And the ribbons were tight and neat.

A smile slipped out before I knew it. Honestly, with a yellow dress and pigtails, I looked cute even to myself.

“What do you think, Sir Benjamin?”

“A poodle…”

“Did you think before speaking?”

“You look lovely, my lady.”

Benjamin clapped politely just as the carriage stopped.

From the looks of it, we were in front of a busy, expensive restaurant.

As soon as Wolfgang and I stepped out, ready for a nice meal, a loud voice rang out.

“Daughter!”