Fish Don't Know About Water - Chapter 26

“G-get up. The floor is cold.”

He took a step forward and carefully helped Phenelity up. Reluctantly, Phenelity stood, her eyes brimming with tears. She rubbed her eyes hard with the back of her hand, causing her delicate skin to swell and turn red.

Viett pulled a silk handkerchief from his uniform pocket. He was more unsettled by seeing a woman cry like a child than by her harsh language.

“C-calm down and wipe your t-tears first.”

He awkwardly handed her the handkerchief. Hinler turned sharply to look at Viett with wide eyes.

‘Why are you acting so uncharacteristically kind?’

Uncomfortable with her questioning gaze, Viett forcibly placed the handkerchief in Phenelity’s hand and looked away.

“Thank you…”

Phenelity sniffled, unfolding the handkerchief. A brief flash of curiosity crossed her red-rimmed eyes.

“You carry a handkerchief?”

“W-why not?”

“It’s not that you can’t. It’s just that this color doesn’t suit you at all, Commander…”

Viett found himself smiling faintly. Even while sobbing, she still managed to make a remark, which seemed very characteristic of Cochrun.

“Anyway, thank you.”

Phenelity wiped the tears from her cheeks thoroughly. Then she smiled mischievously as if she hadn’t been crying moments ago.

“I’ll wash the handkerchief and return it to you tomorrow.”

“Y-you can just k-keep it…”

Viett looked at her rubbing her nose with the handkerchief with wide eyes. Many women had cried in front of Viett before. But she was the first noble lady to rub her tears and snot so rudely.

“No, thanks. Why would I keep something of yours, Commander?”

“I d-don’t need it anymore with y-your tears and snot all over it.”

“Even if I wash it? Oh? The handkerchief doesn’t smell like cigarettes.”

Viett frowned deeply. The handkerchief doesn’t? Does that mean I smell like cigarettes?

He pulled the collar of his uniform up to his nose. He could only smell the leather, metal, and faint gunpowder scent typical of military uniforms. Phenelity burst into laughter watching him.

“I was joking. You smell nice for a heavy smoker, Commander.”

She hummed a tune as she returned to the worn leather sofa. She sat back comfortably, closed her eyes, and started listening intently to the music from the phonograph.

“This is a Johanev nocturne, right? Johanev is an Easton musician, isn’t he?”

“……”

“I heard that listening to enemy music these days can get you sent to a camp. So, that must be a rumor, right?”

Viett let out a long sigh he had been holding back. He didn’t have the energy to respond to each of her comments. He was already exhausted from the moment Phenelity started crying.

Seeing her quickly regain her energy and return to being talkative was a relief. But her endless chatter made him want to cover his ears.

He glanced at his wristwatch. It had only been 4 minutes since Phenelity had listened to the explanation about the safe house magic, smiled brightly, and admired the phonograph.

In just 4 minutes, this woman had cried like a child, cursed and raged, smiled contentedly, hummed a tune while enjoying music, and now returned to her usual scatterbrained chatter.

Now he could somewhat understand why this cheerful young lady had earned the humiliating nickname ‘Psycho Pepe.’

Her rapidly changing moods made her seem almost mad. Readers watching the protagonist’s mood swings from one sentence to the next must have been as horrified as Viett.

“By the way, about that record.”

Phenelity kept talking, even without a response, tapping her toes.

“Isn’t it an amateur’s recording? Did you play it, Commander?”

Viett turned his gaze away to avoid answering. It was true that he had recorded the piano piece himself. In his naive childhood, he had dreamed of entering the Royal Academy of Arts. He had recorded the practice piece with a pounding heart to show the admissions officer.

A piece of the past he had tried hard to ignore. Facing that pain again after a decade made him shudder. The memory of his father mocking him was so vivid that he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

‘You’ve spent your time at the mountain school honing useless skills. Instead of just banging on piano keys, try picking up more manly and rugged hobbies like your brother—flying planes, horse riding, or fencing.’

Recalling his father’s blunt words made him break out in a cold sweat. Hinler, noticing Viett’s pale face, looked at him with pity and nodded.

“You’ve hit the nail on the head, Miss Cochrun. This record is indeed a recording of Viett’s piano performance from his childhood.”

“Really? And when he was a child?”

Phenelity clapped her hands with wide eyes.

“Then why did you attend Desfield Military Academy? With this level of skill, you could have easily entered the Royal Academy of Arts…”

Seeing her pure admiration and genuine regret, Viett slowly relaxed. He awkwardly massaged his stiff neck and muttered.

“M-my father opposed it. He d-didn’t want me to p-play music.”

“Me too. I wanted to be an architect since I was little, but my father snorted and said women shouldn’t hold tools. We finally have something in common, don’t we?”

Hinler watched the two converse casually, frowning, and sighed.

“Miss Cochrun. The one who enables the safe house magic is Viett.”

Hinler gestured respectfully towards Viett. Phenelity turned to Viett with a surprised face.

“The Commander?”

“The magic on the phonograph only works while it plays the sounds created by Viett.”

“So… is it possible to record the Commander’s voice as well?”

Phenelity raised one hand and asked.

“For example, reciting a poem or singing…”

Her rolling eyes fixed on Viett. Viett squinted defensively. Surely, she wasn’t planning to make him recite a poem or sing.

“Not only singing or playing an instrument but also ordinary speech can be recorded.”

Hinler nodded and pointed at the record.

“But remember that once a record is used, it cannot be reused for magic.”

“What? Then what happens after this nocturne ends?”

“Viett will have to record a new one.”

Both of their gazes simultaneously fixed on Viett. Viett blinked in surprise at the unexpected situation.

Reading the earnestness in Phenelity’s eyes, his mood plummeted. The reality that someone’s freedom depended on his actions was far from pleasant.

“It’s to prevent Miss Cochrun from stealing the phonograph and running away, so please understand.”

Hinler said, looking at the conflicted Phenelity. It was also a warning to her. A reminder that her freedom existed only near Viett.

“Are you worried I might refuse the marriage and run away?”

Phenelity asked, staring intently at Hinler’s expressionless face. Her voice was strangely low and rough.

“I am well aware of the resentment and anger that previous Little Lords harbored towards their country, and their longing for freedom. Miss Cochrun is no different from them.”

Hinler held up two fingers in front of her.

“The conditions set by the royal family are twofold. Marriage. And oblivion. If you accept these two conditions, we will gladly transfer ownership of the magic phonograph to you.”

“…Marriage… would be with the Commander…”

Phenelity counted the conditions on her fingers, tilting her head.

“What’s oblivion?”

“The royal family wants the Crown Prince’s love confession to be erased from your memory without a trace.”

“The Crown Prince’s love confession?”

Phenelity’s eyes widened. Her previously distracted eyes gradually became clear.

“That… wasn’t a dream?”

Viett and Hinler’s eyes also widened like hers. Viett covered his forehead with one hand and shook his head.

My goodness. Did she really think it was a dream? Despite the whole camp being in an uproar over the scandal, she didn’t care about what others were whispering about her?

Even if Tenessa had thoroughly silenced the nurses, this didn’t make sense. This woman was once again proving herself to be lost in her own world.