Civil Servant in Romance Fantasy

Chapter 170: Smooth Sailing (1)

→ Smooth Sailing (1) ←

There was a noticeable shift in Marghetta’s behavior after the incident. Calling it an ‘incident’ made it sound too dramatic, almost as if a calamity had struck. However, labeling it a mere ‘remark’ would suggest a scandalous statement fit for the headlines.

From Marghetta’s perspective, it was indeed a piece of news that dominated her thoughts for a while.

“To f-father?”

Her eyes fluttered restlessly, and her voice trembled pitifully. But unlike before, it was clear that the trembling was not from sorrow but from excitement.

“Yes. I’d go right this moment if I could, but I still have my responsibilities, as Mar does too. How about we go together after His Grace completes the New Year’s Ball’s greetings…?”

I stopped mid-sentence, closing my mouth. It was because Marghetta had suddenly rushed into my arms.

“Thank you, thank you, Carl…!”

Seeing her tears, I thought my heart might stop. It took the last ounce of my strength to hug her despite the stiffening of my body.

Seeing her care for me more deeply than I’d ever imagined brought a sense of bitterness rather than satisfaction. Did I even deserve her gratitude?

‘If I had known she would be this happy…’

Had I known a simple statement would make her smile so brightly, I would have said it sooner. The guilt weighed heavily on my shoulders.

How much had she suffered in silence, maintaining a facade of normalcy while internally battling her turmoil and anxiety? She couldn’t even bring herself to speak first because she knew of my past.

‘I was always going to marry Marghetta.’

Recalling the thought I had harbored for so long made me chuckle. Marriage was inevitable. And if I were to marry anyways, it would undoubtedly be with her.

In my mind, she was already my wife.

But had I ever truly shown her my feelings? Although I promised to be honest in the future, I said nothing because I felt reassured by Marghetta’s willingness to wait. Therefore, I also took no action.

“The elder should guide the relationship with confidence! Come and hug your noona!”

“The elder needs to act like one to be deemed reliable.”

Hecate’s words came to mind at that moment. At the time, I thought of her as a childish elder because of her odd behavior despite her age.

‘But that’s me, too.’

Right now, I was the one who wasn’t acting the part of a dependable elder. Considering my age before and after the possession, my concerns about age were trivial. Even in this body, I was still three years older than Marghetta.

It was indeed embarrassing. Perhaps I would not have felt this way if Marghetta had been the older one.

Either way, acting this way would still be despicable even if I had been younger than her. I almost rationalized my behavior for a moment.

‘After the New Year’s Ball.’

I stopped rationalizing and lay down, focusing on doing better in the future rather than dwelling on my past mistakes.

The New Year’s Ball was less than three months away. After that time passed, it would be time for me to kneel before the Iron-blooded Duke.

“Come to the duchy, and I’ll turn you into a half-wit.”

That was the Iron-blooded Duke’s terrifying declaration… Wait, was that actually how he exactly phrased it? Either way, it felt similar enough.

Anyway, I should eat well before going. Who knew whether I’d be kneeling for three or four days?

‘It’s possible.’

The Iron-blooded Duke was known to be fiery and bold during his active days. Although he was now older, retired, and softened by late fatherhood, who knew when his spicy nature might resurface?

‘…It’s all karma, anyway. I should just accept it humbly.’

And so, I dreamt of performing a tearful, grand gesture before the Iron-blooded Duke.

***

Someone who was so happy that it was obvious to anyone passing by welcomed me.

“Welcome, Carl.”

Marghetta greeted me with a bright smile as soon as I opened the door to the Vice President’s office. She was standing there instead of sitting as usual.

“Have you been standing here all this time?”

She didn’t even know when I would arrive.

“I saw you coming.”

Marghetta chuckled in response to my question. That was a relief. I felt worried that a busy person might be wasting their time because of me.

“Now—”

I was about to suggest sitting down, but Marghetta opened her arms wide.

I embraced her, understanding the gesture, and Marghetta wrapped her arms around my back.

“Can we greet each other like this every day from now on?”

“Of course.”

I nodded happily at her adorable request. After all, I’d still comply even if she commanded me informally. This hardly qualified as a request.

It was only after a long embrace that we were able to sit down.

“I’m looking forward to the next time.”

Her words naturally brought a smile to my face.

***

I couldn’t sleep at all last night. The sound of my heart pounding seemed to fill the room, making it impossible to calm down.

I’d normally be worried about how this would affect my work the next day, but this excitement was the epitome of happiness. If staying up all night meant feeling this way, I’d gladly do it for three days straight.

‘Finally.’

I could finally have an official relationship with Carl. Going to see Father can only mean one thing: he was going to seek his approval.

With no one watching, my expression softened, and I could feel my lips curving into a smile.

I had already received permission from Carl’s mother. Father too considered Carl as his son-in-law, so there was no chance of refusal.

“The problem lies in that man’s eyes. Which man wouldn’t like you? I guarantee it. He’ll come around on his own. If not sooner, then within three years.”

These were Father’s words after Carl had rejected the marriage proposal last year. Honestly, I barely listened to what he was saying back then.

But in the end, Father was right. Of course, Father knew best, being so experienced and wise.

I only recently found out that those specific three years were the same duration it took for him to court Mother.

But now…

‘How do I wait?’

It’s funny how fickle the human heart can be. Until yesterday, I thought I could wait forever. But as soon as a specific date was set for right after the New Year’s Ball, my patience started wearing thin.

It wasn’t the 10 years I had braced myself for when I first learned about Carl’s past. I didn’t even have to wait until after graduation. It was just a mere three months away.

‘Calm down.’

Yes, three months will pass quickly. Carl isn’t someone to change his words within that time.

With that thought, I tried to calm my heart and looked out the window. It was almost time for Carl to arrive.

‘He’s here.’

Not long after, I saw Carl approaching the office.

I quietly stood up and straightened my clothes at the door. Carl promised me an official relationship, so I should look the part.

“Maintaining a happy marital relationship isn’t hard. It starts with greeting each other warmly when one comes home. It’s a small act, but it makes a big difference.”

This advice, too, came from my fourth sister. It sounded right. After all, relationships were built on the smallest of things.

“Welcome, Carl.”

Perhaps that was why Carl showed a surprised but smiling face when he saw me.

Carl must like this, too. Before coming to the academy, he mentioned that he had lived alone in the capital. He must have never been welcomed by his family like this.

‘Family.’

Yes, we’re family. We’re a couple who was closer than anyone else and was bound by the name of family.

I barely managed to keep my expression from softening too much. A little more and I might just keep melting like this forever.

“Now—”

I opened my arms as Carl moved to step forward, and he didn’t hesitate to hug me.

Since we’re family, this is something we can do every day. Yes, it shouldn’t be a problem at all.

“I’m looking forward to the next time.”

Not just today, but tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow as well.

And eventually, it won’t just be hugs…

Yes, that next step… and the one after that.

***

In the past few days, Marghetta’s expressions of affection had become more overt. Though she seemed to be restraining herself, it seemed the opposite from the recipient’s perspective.

It was a dilemma. How should I respond?

‘It’s not that it’s bothersome.’

I certainly didn’t dislike it. The issue was that I should also be reciprocating if someone was giving, but I was unsure of the proper balance.

Acting too casually might leave her feeling neglected, but being too intense could overwhelm her. What exactly was the middle ground?

“Prosecutor?”

“Oh, yes.”

Gerhardt’s call snapped me back to reality. I had been lost in thought, ignoring the person right in front of me.

“It seems you have something pleasant on your mind.”

Fortunately, Gerhardt didn’t take offense to my rudeness and responded with a smile.

Was it that obvious? Gerhardt noticed even though we haven’t known each other for long. It must have been written all over my face.

“Haha. I guess you’re in a similar boat, Gerhardt.”

Too embarrassed to outright say ‘I’m about to get engaged to a beautiful lady!’ I changed the subject, and Gerhardt chuckled softly.

“Things have been good ever since I met you, Prosecutor.”

“That’s too generous of you.”

“Generous? Thanks to you, not just me but also the students have been able to learn the truth. It’s a genuine expression of gratitude.”

That made me laugh. Gerhardt was indeed working hard to enlighten the students with the truth.

And naturally, when a teacher worked hard, the students under them were bound to follow suit.

“The exams never end…”

“Everything we learned recently is now useless. By tomorrow, today’s lessons will turn to dust.”

Lately, the club room had been filled with the students’ groans. Just hearing that gave me a clear idea of how hard they were being pushed.

But then again, it was none of my business.

“I guess I need to work even harder if I want to keep hearing your words of gratitude.”

“Ahaha! I’m really looking forward to it!”

After all, my goal was for the history of the North to be widely recognized.

Hang in there. It’s inevitable for students to struggle with their studies, anyway.

It’d be better to be overstudied than undereducated, right?

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