17 — My Childhood Home

“They said you were fine, but are you absolutely sure that you’re not hurt anywhere!?”

I was so overcome with surprise that I couldn’t even comprehend what Mr. Fisalis was saying.

My ears are telling me that he’s worried, but, really, my mind must be playing tricks on me. He must have come to hand me the divorce papers in person! Why is he looking me up and down, though? Oh well, not relevant. Boy, I really dropped the ball after he took the time to do something nice for me.

I had resigned myself to my (assumed) fate, but not without some sadness.

I suppose this is goodbye to those happy days with all the servants. I should have treasured our time together more.

Pushing my own regrets to the wayside, I knew the only way I’d get any peace of mind was to apologize.

“There’s no excuse for what I did, breaking that priceless vase, Mr. Fisalis! I was very sleepy and wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing and I really ought to have done more to keep it from falling and I am truly, very sorry!” An earnest apology seemed like my best bet at that moment, and apologize I did: in one breath, after which I promptly stared at my shoes, groveling.

I’ll take whatever rebuke he wants to throw at me. I shall atone for my sins!

But, contrary to my expectations, the next words out of Mr. Fisalis’ mouth were ones of kind reassurance. And a sigh. Lest we forget the sigh.

“I don’t care about the vase! Rohtas said you were unhurt, but I’m just relieved now that I’ve seen for myself that he was right!”

I raised my head nervously to see him looking back at me with a confused smile.

“But wasn’t it really valuable?” I mean, I saw how extra careful the servants were with it.

“I can replace those as many times as I need to. It was only a vase, a simple decoration.” Like the servants had done earlier, Mr. Fisalis emphasized ‘only a vase’ and ‘decoration,’ too. As worried as I was, I was somewhat relieved to hear him say that. No money, no problems! That’s how that saying goes, right?

“Really?”

“If you’d like, why don’t we go look for something to replace that vase together?” His face seemed to glow as he made the suggestion.

“I’m no good at that—interior decorating, I mean—so I’d be no help to you,” I humbly declined.

Mr. Fisalis just smiled wryly.

“Not according to Mimosa. See, everything turned out fine, Viola.” It was here, at a break in the back and forth between me and Mr. Fisalis, that Mother, who had been watching in silence, decided to interject. Is it just me, or has her gaze softened?

“...Okay. But I still feel guilty.”

“Just be more careful from now on, dear. We can’t afford to replace multiple vases for the Fisalis family.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Mother looked at me with a satisfied expression (I guess I appeared sufficiently regretful) before turning to address Mr. Fisalis directly.

“Duke Fisalis, welcome to my humble home. I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here like this. You caught us right in the middle of dinner, but if you’ll wait just one moment, I can bring you a cup of tea.”

“Oh, no, I should apologize, I’m the one barging in while you’re eating. I’d love some tea, but please don’t go out of your way.”

“Excuse me just a moment, then. Oh, Duke Fisalis, have you had dinner yet?”

“No, ma’am. I came here as soon as I returned home from work.”

Whaaat!? He rushed over here that quickly!? He didn’t need to do that; he must’ve been starving already by the time he got home.

“Goodness, you must be hungry. It’s not much, nor is it terribly fancy, but would you like to eat dinner with us?” Mother offered Mr. Fisalis without hesitation.

Mother! What do you think you’re doing, asking him to eat our struggle meal!? I was momentarily struck dumb by her brazenness, but when I came back to myself, I whispered in her ear, “Mo—Mother!? What’re you doing, trying to feed him our slop!?”

“Nonsense, Vi. Even the simplest meals are a banquet to an empty stomach.”

“Nononononono, his stomach isn’t like ours.” How could you say that with a straight face? You should see what he eats at the manor!

Mr. Fisalis, however, quickly accepted Mother’s invitation, completely oblivious to my worries. “Thank you kindly. I think I will.”

“Ah, good, good. I’ll have Orchis put a chair for you right next to Viola. Please, take a seat. I’ll be right back,” Mother said, clearly oblivious to my feelings, too.

Orchis brought over a chair. Mr. Fisalis sat down and was quickly handed a plate, but the sight of this flawlessly handsome nobleman eating my mother’s rustic bread and soup was uncomfortably surreal. He, too, seemed a little bit uncomfortable, looking as if this was his first time eating such simple fare and he was unsure how to process what he was seeing on the table.

“Is something wrong?” Mother asked him, when he still hadn’t moved to start to eat.

“Oh, no. I was just appreciating how... artisanal this food is,” he replied, looking up at her with a smile.

Excellent choice of phrasing, there, Mr. Fisalis!

“Well, your body needs simple and healthy food. Eating large quantities of sumptuous food at every meal, every day, will only ruin your health,” Mother said confidently, shattering everything nobles were known to believe about food. I couldn’t help but be a little nervous listening to her.

“It will?” Mr. Fisalis asked in return, one-hundred-percent serious.

“Look at people these days—it’s no secret. A lot of people are carrying around too much fat on their bodies. And for a lot of those people, chronic disease and owning land go hand-in-hand.”

“...What you say is true, ma’am.”

But his parents weren’t fat when I saw them last! And they live in the countryside; isn’t that a healthy lifestyle?

Although what Mother said didn’t apply to his own parents, Mr. Fisalis nodded along, perhaps thinking of other nobles. I tried to remember the few social events I’d attended myself.

...There are definitely a lot of people who fit that bill!

Mother was pleased that Mr. Fisalis was listening so attentively, so she continued on with her sermon.

“You’re still young, though, Duke, and your drills as a knight provide adequate exercise, but in the future, when you’re not as active, a rich diet will do you no good.”

“I see. Thank you for the advice.” His admiration for my mother was apparent in his voice.

“Oh, my, we’ve just been talking this whole time. Please, go ahead and eat before it gets cold.”

“Oh, yes, I will. Thank you again for the food,” Mr. Fisalis said before picking up his spoon and elegantly taking a taste of the soup. His table manners were impeccable, due to his good upbringing.

Why is he treating our humble meal like a five star dinner!?

I watched him anxiously, unsure if his palate would approve of our food.

“This is delicious! The flavor is very mild,” he said, surprise coloring his face when he looked up from his bowl.

Well, yeah, that’s because it’s just soup with some veggies in it.

“So it’s to your liking, then? It’s a vegetable soup—gentle on your stomach and very nutritious,” Mother explained with a smile.

Enough with the lip service, Mother.

It was a vegetable stock made of scraps that couldn’t be used for salad, so ‘vegetable soup’ technically wasn’t a misnomer! It made for a totally different flavor—simpler and cleaner—than Cartham’s fancy consommé, though.

“It’s very good, truly, it is. I’ve never tasted anything like it, even from my own chef.”

“The secret is to thoroughly cook all the ingredients. And of course, to use everything and waste nothing.”

Mr. Fisalis fell silent. It appeared that ‘waste nothing’ rang a bell.

Honing in on his reaction, my mother continued, “You know, if you do waste food, a giant, green man will come and get you. That’s what they say, anyway...”

Oh great, now she’s breaking out her old pearls of wisdom. Once she starts, she’ll never stop.

My whole family was well aware of her habits, so we focused on eating to shorten her window of opportunity to trap us at the table. And as soon as I was finished eating, I said, “Everything was great! We’re going to go to the living room so you and Mr. Fisalis can chat. C’mon, Thistle, Freesia.”

“Okaaay!” my siblings eagerly agreed.

“Wait! Viola!?” Mr. Fisalis looked at me, startled, as I made my escape.

He stared back at me with pleading puppy-dog eyes and his tail tucked between his legs (metaphorically, of course), but I had heard enough of Mother’s stories for multiple lifetimes and could probably have recited them by heart at that point, so I smiled and patted his shoulder as I told him, “No, please, take your time!”

I’m sorry, but you are a sacrifice I am willing to make.

Mother’s lecture continued on for a while thereafter.

—

Mr. Fisalis came into the living some time later, looking even more drained and tired than before. (Wonder why!) I, meanwhile, had been relaxing with Thistle, Freesia, and a picture book. His long legs carried him quickly over to me.

“How about we head home soon, Viola? Everyone’s worried about you,” he asked, gently pulling me to my feet.

“Sounds good to me. Well, guys...” I shut the book, but just as I stood up:

“Nooo! Are you going home, Vivi!?” Thistle cried, clinging to my hand, the one Mr. Fisalis wasn’t using to pull me up. Who could resist those sad eyes he was giving me? And they were sapphire blue, just like mine, so I knew well the extent of their powers!

“Stay here longer with us, Viviii!” Freesia wrapped her arms around my waist.

Oh nooo, she knows the extent of her cuteness powers, too!

“We have to get going, soon. Everyone at the manor’s been worried about Viola all day, so we don’t want to keep them waiting any longer...” Mr. Fisalis told Thistle.

“But all you did today was lay around, Vivi!” Thistle argued back, his eyes growing wetter.

That I did, brother mine. That was wrong of me! But I was sooo tired! I couldn’t help it! The love of sleep is the root of all evil, as they say.

“I want you to read to me mooore!” Freesia’s little arms closed tighter around my midsection. Not you too!

“I’m sorry, Thistle, Freesia...”

Now, I wasn’t some monster that could just tell my little brother and sister no as they clung to me, so I cautiously asked Mr. Fisalis, “...Um, is there any chance I could come home tomorrow?”

He must have understood how much they had missed me, because he relented.

“...Fine... But please do actually come home tomorrow, then, okay?” he said, hanging his head in defeat.

“I will! Thank you!” I smiled brightly up at him in thanks for his consideration. I tried for a million-dollar smile like his, but only managed about... twenty dollars. It must have been worth something, though, because his ears turned red.

“The things I do...” he mumbled under his breath with a sigh before declaring, “I’ll come get you on my way home from work tomorrow.”

“Ehh? You don’t need to come all the way here just to get me...” I could make it home in time if I walk, I thought to myself.

“How could you suggest such a thing!? I’m going to come pick you up, so please, just stay right here!” he very nearly shouted back.

Oh, I see, now. Your family name couldn’t bear the shame of your wife—a duchess, of all people—walking home, even as a joke.

I should have had more consideration for my aristocratic image.

“Sorry, I didn’t think about how that would look...”

“No... well, yes, but I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I want to pick you up myself because I care about you. Please don’t get the wrong idea, okay?”

“...Yes?”

Sooo, you’re saying “don’t bring dishonor upon my family?” I read you loud and clear!