Side Story 82
Elonia’s family gathered in the dining hall for breakfast. Philemon, seeing Elonia enter alone, asked,
“Elonia, where’s Lucius?”
“He wasn’t there. He must have left already.”
Philemon tilted her head, puzzled. That didn’t seem like him.
“Do you know why he left?”
“No. He didn’t even leave a message.”
Elonia pouted, sitting down and angrily cutting her meat. Just then,
“Good morning, everyone.”
Artius entered the dining hall. Elonia, ignoring him, mumbled a greeting.
“Morning, Dad.”
Philemon’s eyes narrowed. Come to think of it, Artius had left the room briefly last night.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Artius, about to sit down, hesitated under Philemon’s sharp gaze.
Philemon, getting straight to the point, asked,
“Artius, did you see Lucius last night?”
“…!”
Clang. Artius, startled, dropped his silverware, as if caught red-handed. Elonia, also pausing her meal, glared at him.
“Dad, did you see Lucius last night?”
“W-well…”
He didn’t deny it.
Elonia, feeling betrayed, shouted,
“Dad! How could you?!”
“Artius! Did you kick him out in the middle of the night?!”
Philemon was equally furious. Artius opened his mouth to explain, but the words wouldn’t come out. His hesitation only fueled Philemon’s anger.
“How could you do that?! Lucius was here because I allowed it! And you kicked him out? Do you know how happy Elonia was to have him here?”
“Th-that’s not it!”
“Is Lucius a stranger? He’s Elonia’s fiancé, our benefactor! How could you kick him out in the middle of the night?”
“It’s a misunderstanding!”
Quiet people were the scariest when they were angry, and Philemon, usually so gentle and patient, was now unleashing her pent-up frustration.
“If you didn’t like my decision, you should have told me! You sparred with Elonia with real swords, even though I told you not to!”
“N-no…”
“What if she got hurt?! Just because she can be healed doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt! And I told you to let her rest before her coming-of-age ceremony and engagement ceremony, and yet you made her work!”
Elonia’s conscience pricked at her mother’s words.
She glanced at Artius, who seemed too stunned to even try to drag her into this.
Artius, raising his hands in surrender, tried to calm Philemon down.
“Philia, please listen. I didn’t mean to disrespect you.”
“Then what was it?”
Philemon’s voice was sharp.
Artius couldn’t explain himself. He was also Elonia’s parent. Of course, he worried about her.
But he couldn’t win against Elonia’s stubbornness. He knew his place in the family hierarchy.
Philemon, frustrated by his silence, finally shouted, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt,
“Fine, Artius, do whatever you want!”