A ‘to-be’

August was not sure if Heilke’s father had a positive reaction or not, though he was leaning towards ‘mad’. It was the same neutral expression he had shown him when they were not talking about magic. In addition to that, he sent August back to the waiting room alone immediately after. He did not even teleport with him, unlike when they went to the cave. Björnn must have been furious that this random person brazenly asked for his daughter’s hand in marriage out of nowhere. Must have been.

Now in the waiting room, August needed to make a decision. To wait for the hosts to come back and kick him out, or leave so as to not overstay his welcome. Leaving was definitely not running away, no. It was a tactical retreat—however rude it may be. Thus, August decided to stay for half an hour extra, and if Heilke had not come back by then, he would leave.

He constantly checked the pendulum clock in the room. To distract his thoughts, he would count each swing, as if the clock did not do that already. Though each perceived swing would swing slower and slower, and slower, to the point where each painful second would pass by like a few minutes. When thirty of the actual minutes had passed, August shot up and walked to the door. As he reached for the brass handle, purple light flashed in the room.

“Now where do you think you’re going, August Vin Gardner.”

August froze in his tracks. They had come back.

August quickly spun to face Björnn and Heilke.

“Welcome back,” he said. “I just thought I was going to overstay my welcome if I was here any longer.”

Björnn had his chin marginally up.

“I had a talk with Heilke just then,” Björnn said.

August gulped, feeling the lump in his throat.

“I think an engagement is fine.”

August’s eyes lit up.

“Really?” he asked.

“Even though I do not approve.”

This stunned August, though Heilke was quick to empty the silence.

“Father, stop it.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave you two to talk it out some more,” he said before leaving the room.

Heilke faced August.

“I guess we just got permission to be engaged from my father.”

August took some time to process her words. They just started to be on a first name basis only a few hours ago. Now he is her fiancé-to-be?

“I think the engagement would be useful for us to work together.”

Still stuck on the previous statement, August had a new thought.

“Do we need permission from your mother?”

Heilke blinked a few times before replying.

“I forgot about that. My mother’s always out travelling and basically never home, so it’s fine.”

“Are you sure you don’t need to send a message to her?” August asked. He did not want to worry her parents and be disrespectful like that.

“She never carries a method of communication with her. And since she’s always travelling we can’t send letters. Genuinely, you don’t have to worry about her. She’s the type to tell me that I can make my own decisions.”

Heilke noticed August’s concerned face, leading her to continue the conversation.

“What about your parents? Should we go get permission from them?”

Up until that point, August could not pay attention to his family. He was too busy trying to find ways to prevent the catastrophe from occurring to fully think about them. His ever-so-busy, but kind, mother and his strict, yet doting father.

“We should. My mother’s always busy with work, so we can ask my father. I’ll go in five days, after I pack everything.”

“Alright.”

*

August went to find Francis at his house.

“Hi August. What brings you here?”

August scratched his ear.

“You know how you said to propose…?”

Francis dropped the book he had in his hand.

“August…”

“Well, I didn’t exactly propose? But I kind of did? And so I’m a fiancé-to-be now?”

Francis grabbed both of August’s shoulders.

“You did it, you madman. It took you long enough to fulfil your end of the deal. Congratulations,” he said, ecstatic. “But what do you mean, ‘to-be’? A to-be-to-be-husband…?”

August shook his head.

“Maybe. But it’s because I haven’t asked my parents yet. And since we’ve graduated, I’ll have to move back anyway. So I’m here to say my ‘goodbye, see you later’.”

“Right. It’ll be harder to reach you from now on. That’s a bit saddening.”

“Yeah. Well, did you propose?”

The room fell silent.

“She said she’ll need some time,” Francis said.

August sighed sympathetically. “Well, I’m going to leave now. Goodbye, Francis.”

“Goodbye, August.”

August took in the image of the room he stayed in for the past year for the final time. The large red canopy for the cushy, large bed. The soft, carpeted floor that complemented the cream coloured walls. He could hardly believe he had stayed here for another year.

“Marie, have you prepared everything?”

“Yes, my Lord. Everything is ready to be sent back to the estate.”

“Thank you. Let’s depart.”

*

It would have been three years since he last went home. That may be different physically in this timeline, but mentally, he had not been back since the strains of monsters became more powerful in the year 385.

August stood in front of the acacia wood double door. He wondered what the man behind the door would look like beyond his memories. He knocked.

“Come in,” a deep voice called from inside the room.

August grabbed the golden door handle and opened the door, looking forward to seeing his father again.

The blonde, spectacled man was facing down, writing apparatus in hand. He did not look up to August entering, and was continuing to write on his piles of documents.

“What is it,” he said.

August took a deep breath.

“Father, it’s August. I’m here to get permission for an engagement.”

The duke flipped over the document on his table.

“Sure,” he said, apathetic. “But you didn’t have to bother with coming to me to say this. Just write a letter.”

The duke’s indifferent attitude threw August off. This was a major difference from the duke in his memories, where he would make eye contact when talking with August no matter how busy he was. Him asking for a letter felt as though he did not know he graduated, as though he did not care for August’s affairs. He did not even ask who the partner was.

“I’ve come back home, father. I’ve graduated.”

“Is that so,” he said curtly.

Did the indifference originate from this August’s attitude, or did his attitude originate from this duke’s apathy?

Frustrated, August asked, “Were you always like this?”

The duke put his pen down and faced August with no visible facial expression.

“What do you mean?”

“Was Father ever warm and encouraging?”

August recalled the times the duke pushed him to try new things. When he first swung his sword, he was right there. When August won his first duel, he would tell him he did a good job.

“Did Father ever care?” August said inaudibly.

He bowed to the duke. “I’ll take my leave now.”