Marietta was the name of Marie’s mother.
Apparently, Marie’s father, Towen, had looked into the matter after I reached out to him. That’s when he’d discovered that Marietta had also been using her connections to squash my attempts at sending invitations to Daux before he ever received them. That was why I hadn’t been able to get Daux to play with me except by passing the invitation through the emperor.
“I’m sure Mother will come around and see what a nice girl Neema is.”
You’re the one who’s a nice girl!
I now knew that Marie had only been standoffish towards me when we first met because she was wary of me due to the kinds of things the adults around her had been saying. It made me achingly curious to know exactly what kind of wicked girl the adults in Daux and Marie’s lives thought I was.
“I see…”
Towen, please just lie and agree with her! Given what I know of Marie’s mother’s personality, I doubt she’ll ever approve of Marie’s friendship with me, but it would break Marie’s heart if she knew that!
Time to change the subject!
“Lord Towen, what kind of work do you do?” I asked.
Back to the original purpose: I wanted to show these two their fathers in action, hard at work.
“I suppose you could say I’m like a personal assistant for Celly— Er, I mean His Majesty. Currently, that entails things like reviewing the reports regarding Project Roslan and making the necessary arrangements.”
Hm… I guess that means he handles more “office work” types of tasks, then? I know Louis is also kind of like an assistant to the emperor, but he said most of his work involves observation and traveling. Based on their personalities, it sounds like they’re dividing the work based on what suits each person’s individual strengths.
“Would you kids like to take a look at the blueprint of the tower we’re going to build in the Helios Province?” the emperor asked, finished with his conversation with Sarius. I enthusiastically jumped at the chance, agreeing without even pausing to consult with Daux and Marie.
“Your Majesty! Do you really think it’s prudent to share confidential information with outsiders?!” Sarius objected.
“Lady Nefertima isn’t an outsider, and Daux and Marie won’t speak of this to anyone else. Isn’t that right?”
In response to the question directed at them, both Daux and Marie vehemently swore not to tell anyone.
“You can’t believe everything children say…”
“Lord Sarius, do you not have any children?” I asked.
Sorry, but I’m going to stop you right there.
Sarius appeared to be somewhere around his forties, so it would be safe to assume that he would likely be married with children by now.
“…I have two, what of it?”
“Do you also not believe the things your own children say?” I pressed.
The emperor was trying to share what he could about Project Roslan with his son and niece. I understood that, as His Majesty’s aide, Sarius had a duty to warn him of the potential danger of divulging sensitive information, but I also wished he would stop making such derogatory statements that would hurt my friends’ feelings.
“What makes you think they’re worthy of such trust?”
He doesn’t even trust his own kids?! That’s enough to revoke his right to call himself a father right there!
“In that case, let me put it another way. Can’t you relate to the feelings of a father who wants to look cool in front of his children?” I asked.
I had a feeling a lot of fathers in any world, despite not acting particularly fatherly or being overly involved in their children’s lives, still tried to show off and make themselves look cool when their children were watching.
Although, the emperor doesn’t have to “try to show off”—he’s plenty impressive as-is!
“In the first place, I see time spent with children as time wasted,” he said gruffly.
It’s no use. There’s no getting through to this person.
“I see… But children don’t tend to like people such as yourself either, so I can see how it’s probably best for both parties to avoid one another as much as possible,” I quipped.
Considering he’d all but come out and said that he hated kids and didn’t want to spend any time around them, I suspected his own children had already learned not to expect anything of him.
“There’s no way children could hate their own parent,” he argued.
I’d been expecting him to flat-out agree with me, but I probably should’ve realized his ego would never allow him to do that.
“No, I’m quite certain they could…” I returned.
In particular, during the rebellious teenage years, children often say they hate their parents. As the number of things they can do increases, they resent their parents for continuing to treat them like a little kid.
I hadn’t gone through a particularly difficult “rebellious phase” in my past life, but even so, I distinctly remembered thinking at times that my parents were overbearing and annoying. I also recalled that once I hit high school, I no longer wanted my clothes to be washed with those of my father and older brother.
This might be shocking and a bit hurtful to the fathers of the world, but that’s just how girls that age are, so please try to be understanding!
“You’re saying that there are children who hate their parents?”
“It’s unreasonable to expect children to unconditionally love their parents when those parents don’t do anything to act like a parent, isn’t it?” I pointed out.
My grandmother had been a bit heavy-handed in her attempts to ensure Mama wouldn’t suffer in the future, and Mama had put distance between them as a result, but I was certain that being too hands-off was also problematic in its own way.
“Even if you are related by blood, if you fail to build a bond through time spent together, you may as well be strangers,” I declared.
“Lady Nefertima, that hits a bit too close to home for me as well…” the emperor said, sounding a bit uncomfortable.
I’m glad you noticed!
“That’s because I was speaking to you as well! If you don’t cherish the time spent with your family, you’ll have no one but yourself to blame if one of your children says ‘I hate you!’ to you someday!”
In our household, the words “I hate you” were strictly forbidden. I could clearly picture the mortal wound hearing that would deal to Papa in particular. He might actually die if one of us ever said that to him.
“…That’s a terrifying thought.”
“Our King Gauldi often makes a point of spending teatime with the queen and Will,” I said.
It wasn’t every day, but at the very least once every three days or so, our king made an appearance for tea. Unfortunately, my timing wasn’t great, so I wasn’t present on many of these occasions.
“I see… Perhaps this is the secret to domestic harmony?”
“So please do your best, Your Majesty, and try to make time to spend with your family! You too, Lord Sarius!”
That ship might have already sailed in Sarius’ case, but as children grew up, they often gained a new perspective on their parents’ situations, so perhaps there was still a chance for him to mend things.
“…I don’t have time for such things.”
Despite his protest, the conviction in his voice seemed weaker than before. Perhaps the idea of being hated by his children had struck a chord within him after all.