Elysia was grumpy the whole time until I left the house, Zen remembered with an amused smile, resting his cheek on his hand at his desk. He was in the village town hall office, with the pleasantly warm fireplace. He, his boss, and his three other coworkers were in the middle of doing the ledgers together.
Elysia may seem mature because she’s the imperial princess, but she’s become less reserved recently. Now she shows me all sorts of emotions. It makes me happy.
Even if they were only acting as father and daughter to blend in, they did still live together. It was obviously better to have an amicable atmosphere like a real family. It was Zen’s duty as the adult to draw the line in their relationship, which was actually between an imperial princess and her guardian. He wanted Elysia to have her fill of living a carefree life together with him (and one large animal) without really worrying about that, and he’d be fine if she was a little selfish sometimes too.
Along these lines, Zen thought, Maybe I’ll get something tasty from the village mayor’s tavern and bring it home today. Just thinking about what to surprise her with was fun. That feeling of wanting to put his daughter in a good mood made him feel like he’d become a real father.
That was when someone spoke to him.
“What’s wrong, Mr. Zen? You’re unusually distracted today,” one of his coworkers who’d been working alongside him asked with keen interest. His name was Max, and he was a young man of twenty-five who’d just gotten married last year. He was friendly and attentive to those around him.
Zen apologized. “Oh, I’m sorry. I actually had an argument with my daughter this morning... Well, it wasn’t bad enough to call it an argument, but we did have a bit of a disagreement. I was thinking about how I’d cheer her up.”
“Wow. You’re so good at everything, though. I didn’t think you’d struggle with these kinds of things.”
“It really makes me realize how hard it is to be a parent.”
“My wife had our first baby last year. I bet we’re gonna have a lot of hardships from here on out...” Max grumbled, but his face showed his fondness for his child. His firstborn must be so unbearably precious to him. Even Zen felt his heart being warmed.
Their other two coworkers chimed in.
“Aww, I’m jealous. I wanna get married soon too,” whined the youngest member, twenty-year-old Anna.
“But women who do this work are at a disadvantage. If you get pregnant, you’ll most likely have to leave your position unless you can find some way around it,” said the sarcastic and pessimistic Namnam, criticizing the system.
The Catalan Empire had a much more developed national system and bureaucracy compared to its neighboring countries. Even so, leaves of absence still weren’t generally permitted when female government officials became pregnant. They’d have to resign once they began to show, although this policy would change much later on.
The only exceptions were skilled officials who were regarded as indispensable within their respective agencies. That meant only those who were already high officials or those with especially promising futures.
That said, in most foreign countries, women weren’t allowed to engage in national politics or local administrations at all. On the western side of the continent, there weren’t even any countries who’d allow a queen to rule. Compared to those other countries where evil practices based in male chauvinism still ran rampant, the empire’s problems in that regard paled in comparison. It was still a very uncivilized time.
“Then all I have to do is not have a baby! I’ll be plenty happy enough if I can fool around with my wonderful darling!”
“I understand how you feel, but what about when you’re old? Who will support you?”
“That’s so far into the future! Who cares? You always look at the downside of everything!”
“In order to live a fulfilling life, isn’t it only natural to account for and avoid risks every day?”
“And yet your life doesn’t look very happy to me, Namnam.”
“Ugh...”
In a complete one-eighty from that heartwarming atmosphere, Anna and Namnam were getting into an argument. Zen and Max smiled wryly.
The boss of this village town hall, Chief Tomon, cleared his throat. “Let’s keep all the chatter in moderation.” He gave his subordinates a passing glare.
Max, Namnam, and Anna all abruptly returned to their ledger work.
Tomon was a strict person (was what Zen thought), so he’d give you an endless scolding if you angered him. He was also honest about his work (or so Zen believed), so he’d make his scoldings on the spot short and frank, but then at the end of the workday, he’d start in on more thorough lectures about those same subjects. That meant any talking-tos didn’t cut into work hours, which made him a great boss who wasn’t afraid of doing what was needed to keep the town hall functioning as it should (was what Zen believed).
“I’m sorry, Chief. I was the one not paying attention.” Zen recognized that this had all started because of him, and he acknowledged that fact so he wouldn’t involve his coworkers.
“Oh, no, you can afford to relax a little, Zen,” Tomon said with an insincere smile.
“What? Really?!”
“You actually have a tendency to do too much work, Zen. I’m always worrying that you’ll eventually harm your physical or mental health.”
“I’m always leaving work at noon, though...” He couldn’t admit it. He couldn’t tell his “honest” chief that the truth was, every day, he was actually learning the trick of which corners he could safely cut to achieve his daily quota faster.
Tomon’s subordinates voiced their complaints, starting with Anna.
“It’s no fair that Zen gets away with it.”
“You’re awfully lax with Zen, Chief,” said Namnam.
“Why can’t you be a little nice to us too?” asked Max.