Misfortune ss3

Side story 3

***

"Oh, Roan."

Lasser, who had been slumped back in his chair, waved the cigar in his hand and greeted Roan.

Roan took in the sight of the ashtray piled high with cigarette ash, followed by a full glass and one more than half empty, before standing opposite Lasser.

"I thought no one would come to such a remote place anymore. But here you are."

Lasser chuckled heartily and put the cigar back in his mouth. Roan could easily tell who the deep longing in his eyes was directed at.

"Care for a drink? I ended up bringing two glasses out of habit."

Lasser offered him a full glass. The potent liquor, once reserved for the late emperor, remained undisturbed, its level unchanged.

Roan accepted the glass without comment. The sharp-scented liquor burned warmly down his throat.

"Seeing you come all this way, it seems you succeeded in persuading Her Majesty."

Lasser spoke first, as if this were no surprise. Roan continued the conversation calmly.

"When do you plan to return to Blois, Admiral?"

"I'd like to leave immediately, but my wife is determined to spend the summer in the capital this time."

Lasser shook his head as if conceding defeat, then stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray. Through the faint smoke, his steady gaze briefly settled on Roan's face.

"Are you getting any sleep?"

Though the question might seem somewhat out of the blue, Roan didn't flinch. It was only natural that Admiral Lasser, the navy's supreme commander, would be closely monitoring his physical condition.

"I'm receiving appropriate assistance from the physician."

Roan stated the plain facts, neither adding nor subtracting.

On the surface, Roan Barthez appeared perfectly fine. So much so that when Leticia reunited with him, she wept, convinced the sea god had performed a miracle.

But the time he had endured was far too brutal for everything within him to remain unscathed.

The savage waves that had swallowed him whole, as if a mere human life were nothing but a toy. The endless waiting that began where he was helplessly swept away, unable to resist.

His body remembered every day spent slowly dying alongside hope, leaving deep scars on his mind. The insomnia that made sleep elusive was one consequence of that.

"Yeah. Guess it can't get better right away................."

Lasser muttered to himself, glancing at the loosened cuffs of Roan's uniform.

Though sun-tanned cheeks and a sharpened jawline added to his sleek appearance, the reality was that his thinned physique lacked the former robustness.

Lasser's gaze slowly drifted upward. A face, cleanly refined without a trace of lingering emotion, filled his vision.

Most people didn’t see the shadows hidden behind dazzling glory. Only those who had watched him for a very long time tend to notice those dark corners.

That's why Lasser could imagine it. The man standing alone, as if abandoned on the open sea. The desperate days and nights of a man who endured that utter desolation and fought his way back alive.

The time when that desperation transformed into despair, gnawing at him, winding its way through him.

"It'll be a long vacation."

Roan didn't answer. The Admiral didn't press him for more words either. The two men simply stood together in silence for a moment.

Faint smoke rose from the smoldering end of a cigar. The bitter aftertaste of tobacco drifted on the early summer evening breeze after sunset.

"Rest well and come back. For the record, this is an order."

"I will remember."

Admiral Lasser chuckled at the stiff reply befitting an order.

"We'll meet again in Blois next time."

"Yes. Then………….."

As Roan exchanged final farewells, he paused as if suddenly remembering something.

"I will be your drinking companion."

At that, Lasser’s lips twitched, and finally, a hearty laugh burst forth, piercing the chirping of crickets.

"Alright. I'll be waiting."

After making the promise, Roan gave one final salute toward Lasser before stepping off the balcony.

With all business concluded, it was truly time to return to her now.

Roan walked down the quiet corridor without hesitation. It was just as his usually steady stride faltered slightly.

"Colonel Barthez."

Roan's footsteps halted abruptly at the voice that shouldn't have been heard here, now.

Silber was approaching him from the dead end of the corridor, silent as a graveyard.

"Why are you here?"

Roan questioned his aide, who had left his post without permission, in a cold voice.

"I have something to report. I've entrusted the Count to Major Kais, so please don't worry."

"The Major...?"

Recalling Kais’s behavior, which wasn't particularly favorable toward nobles, the furrow between Roan's brows deepened.

"So, what is it?"

But instead of continuing his reprimand, Roan urged Silber sharply. He decided it would be better to get whatever business this was over with quickly and then go to Delnia himself.

"Actually, I've been meaning to tell you for a while now..."

Despite having disobeyed her orders, Silber merely pursed his lips, seemingly unsure how to broach the subject.

Fortunately, before Roan's shallow patience completely ran out, he spoke again.

"Do you recall when the Eperne family was taken to the capital, and the current Count requested to meet the previous Count?"

At this unexpected topic, Roan's face, previously filled with annoyance, darkened instantly.

Of course he remembered. It was Roan Barthez, that fool, who had ultimately nodded in agreement while looking down on the aide-de-camp before him for delivering such an absurd request.

“On the condition that you witness it yourself.”

That was the condition attached to their meeting. And the previous Count took his own life not long after.

In short, Silber could be considered the sole witness to the final conversation between the Eperne father and daughter.

However.

"You reported there were no unusual circumstances at the time, didn't you?"

Roan pointed out in a low voice, clearly recalling the answer Silber had given when pressed about their conversation.

No matter how much he had pressed him then, Silber's attitude had remained consistent. Considering the adjutant's usually painfully conscientious behavior, suspecting him of lying would have been strange.

'For someone who pleaded so desperately, it seems like nothing much happened.'

So he had brushed it off as insignificant. And now, to bring up that old story again.

'Perhaps it wasn't insignificant after all.'

For a moment, Roan debated whether to reprimand the aide who had dared to submit a false report. Especially concerning the late Count of Eperne. It was a topic he found anything but pleasant.

But instead of speaking, he waited in silence for what would follow. There must be a reason for bringing up that long-buried story now.

Besides, it ultimately concerned Delnia.

"Actually, back then, the Count—that is, the current Count of Eperne—tried desperately to resolve the situation. But the late Count himself lacked even the will to do so, leading to a heated argument. Then..."

Silber’s brow furrowed deeply as he recalled the conversation from that time. His tongue felt stiff and heavy with every word, yet he pressed on.

"The late Count said this: 'I tried my whole life to love you somehow, but in the end, I couldn't.'"

At that moment, all expression vanished from Roan's face. As if he were listening to some absurd, bizarre ghost story.

"If he had raised his voice and shouted, I might have thought it was an emotional outburst, a slip of the tongue. But he didn’t. He spoke as if confessing a crime, so there was no mistaking his sincerity."

"...."

"I hear he faced many hardships after becoming a son-in-law to the Eperne family. But I truly don't understand. Was that all he could say to his child, who was desperately trying to salvage the family he had endangered…?"

Roan's face contorted painfully, as if he were barely holding back the most disgusting thing in the world.

The thought of the previous Count, who had spilled his worthless sincerity and died with a clear conscience, made him want to vomit. Especially when he recalled the last time he had summoned Roan and found his mother there.

"Though the Lady shed not a single tear then... she looked truly sorrowful. Like a child who'd lost her parents."

Roan clenched his fists without realizing it. The woman's pale face, her expression vanished, flickered before his eyes. The bare face of the woman who had stood in quiet despair before her father's death.

Though he had never prayed in his life, for the first time he wished there was a God. Because then, heaven and hell would exist too.

He would undoubtedly go to hell, so then someday he could repay this hatred to the previous Count, who would already be there waiting.

"Actually, I never intended to tell anyone."

Then, as if confessing again, Silber added.

"Because I knew Her Lordship wouldn't want me to. I intended to take it to my grave, for the sake of her honor."

"Then, what about now?"

Roan asked in a subdued voice. It wasn't a tone of reproach. On the contrary, he seemed genuinely curious about where this change of heart originated.

That's why Silber could answer the question calmly.