Nobility 5

“Farewell, Lady Adalhaid, Duke Leafa.” Win bows his head to them.

“I hope we can meet again soon.” Win hates those words of hers. He maintains his composure and his decorum and holds back his denial of her. He enters the carriage after his father.

Win slumps over inside the carriage as it begins to move. He’s exhausted. He’s been around people too often to not be. Dagobert looks out the window, watching the buildings and the people pass by. Soon enough they exit the capital, and the city scenes are replaced by the rolling plains. Dagobert had been forced to exert himself quite a bit during his talks with the king and his war council. It was all the more stressful when word reached them that Win had insulted and beaten the prince. After an evening like that, Dagobert has a newfound understanding of Win’s love of the plains. The fields are peaceful. Dagobert smiles when he feels himself bridging the gap between him and Win.

Dagobert looks back over at Win. He looks out of it, as though he had pushed himself far beyond his limits. Dagobert supposes that perhaps he had, given his penchant for shutting himself away. For a moment Dagobert considers just leaving him be, but his desire to talk with his son overpowers.

“Win, did you enjoy yourself?” Win seems to stir himself at the question, and begins to look out at the plains.

“Not at all.”

“Is that so? Does it have something to do with why you ended up fighting the prince?” Win flinches, not having expected his father to know and not intending to ever tell him.

“No. I was just a fool.”

“Win, do you truly still have no intention of becoming lord?” Win answers without a second thought.

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” Win’s voice is weak even as he still refuses to look at his father.

“What does it matter?”

“In my own view of things, there is no one more capable of taking care of the march than you. I would like it if I could entrust the lands that I love to the kind-hearted son I love. As I see it, there is no question that you can become the margrave. And yet, you so firmly disagree. I cannot understand why you do so. Tell me so I can understand. If you want to be understood then you have to tell me.”

“I don’t need you to understand.”

“Is it something you see in Odila? Is that why you are so adamant that you will not be lord?”

“Being a better lord than me is so low a bar that it doesn’t matter. It’s all just that I’m not fit for the job, and I don’t want it anyway.”

“Win, what changed in you after Marcus died? You were always absorbed in your own world, even as a small child, but you never had this disdain for the world.”

“The only thing that happened… Is that I realized that humanity is not beautiful.”

“Win… Thank you for telling me. From now on, please talk to us.”

Win doesn’t respond. All he does is continue to silently stare out the window. Everything hurts him so much. He wants to go back to sleep.

They again spend a night at the Cearo manor. This time Win is able to easily avoid his cousins and simply rest. When morning comes Win and Dagobert continue their small trip home. They spend the trip in silence. Dagobert can’t bring himself to speak with Win as he is. When Win and Dagobert reach the manor at last, contrary to Dagobert’s expectations, Win starts to talk.

“Father, can we spar?”

“Of course, Win.”

Win and his father begin their spar. Dagobert has only the iron cloak, as always. Win can feel that his slashes are sharper than normal. He supposes that it’s because he found a reason to fight. Beyond his swordsmanship, Win can tell that his own use of the iron cloak has become far more refined. He’s able to absorb much of his father’s heavy blows without taking much damage. However, as always, in a single clean sweep, Win finds himself on his back, staring up into clear skies. He hears his father laugh.

“It appears I’ve won again today. Win, you are truly strong. And I’m sure you’ll only get stronger.” Dagobert reaches down to his son. Win does not take the extended hand as he stands back up.

“Father, you won’t need to worry about me anymore like this.” Dagobert laughs heartily once more.

“How foolish. I suppose that’s the sort of thought that belongs to the youthful. I’m your father. I’ll worry about you until I die. Especially because you intend to live so true to your beliefs. A solitary life is worrisome to me.”

“What could there be to worry about?”

“I’m worried you’ll end up all alone, and not able to take care of yourself properly. Even just a single person can be the difference. And at that—”

“Father, on that topic, I’ve found my answer. I have absolutely no intention of marrying.”

“Is that so? Why is that?”

“It’s pointless. Loving somebody else, tying myself to them for our life, it’s all just friction. And progeny are an irresponsible and pointless thing. There’s no point in wishing for the future. It has no meaning.”

“Connecting with others is more than just pain. I’ve been given the most precious blessings I’ll even know because of it. But, if that’s truly what you believe, I doubt I would be able to dissuade you. I won’t mention marriage again. And I suppose I’ll begin teaching Odila to become margravine. Let’s return inside for today.”

Win eats a warm meal with his family. He listens to his mother and sister talk about the two days they were apart. Regardless of whether he likes or dislikes it, he finds it comforting. He wouldn’t want the meal to be any other way, even if it occasionally irritates him. When he finishes his meal he returns to his room and closes the door. He begins to pack his things. He packs lightly, the bare minimum he needs. He hears his mother’s kind voice at his door.

“Goodnight Win. I’d like to hear about your stay in the capital tomorrow, if you’re willing.”

Win doesn’t respond. He takes a break from packing. He writes a lengthy letter that details the capital, with a special focus on his uncle and Adalhaid. He then writes another shorter letter where he gives only a short apology. He finishes packing.

Win walks down the hall carrying all his things. He silently opens Odila’s door. He walks over to her bedside, and looks down at her sleeping face. He drops to his knees.

“Odila… I’m sorry your older brother had to be somebody like this. I’m sorry I failed again.”

He kisses her forehead gently. Win stands up, closes her door, and walks away. Win leaves the manor, then the premises. He cries into the night. Winfred Lufian disappears from his home of fifteen years.