Fish Don't Know About Water - Chapter 52

His sister looked at him with a slightly bewildered expression, then smiled.

“Mother should have seen this. She only saw you as a brat and then passed away…”

“Shut up.”

“Well, then I’ll lend this to Dr. Law.”

Rose tried to snatch the booklet from his hand. Viett instinctively gripped it tightly and refused to let go.

“Why is that bastard’s name coming up h-here?”

“I talked to him at the reception, and he seemed so polite and diligent. I used to dislike him for ignoring Pepe’s feelings, but I guess I misjudged him.”

“That guy is p-polite?”

Viett thought of Hilias Law, who had spent the night with a nurse. He felt a chill at his shameless request to keep it a secret.

“Wh-why would that guy n-need this?”

“He said it would be very useful for checking Miss’s health condition…”

“Give it back.”

He snatched the booklet and shoved it into his jacket pocket. Rose smiled contentedly at him.

“Actually, I haven’t completed the hundredth truth! I wrote ninety-nine, so you must record the last one!”

His sister, who had run to the checkpoint, pulled out another booklet from her pocket and waved it.

“And there’s actually another copy!”

She shouted playfully and ran to the adjutant waiting at the checkpoint. Viett waved slightly at her retreating figure.

As he got back into the car and started the engine, Phenelity woke up, looking disheveled.

“Oh… Where’s the princess…?”

“She j-just left.”

Viett gestured with his chin towards the barricaded checkpoint.

“Really? You should’ve woken me up!”

Phenelity muttered with a sullen face. He shrugged lightly and started the car.

He was looking around for a shop to buy clothes for his wife when Phenelity, who was peering out the window, pointed at something.

“Oh? Look over there!”

Viett slowly stopped the car. She was pointing at a small square nestled between tall buildings.

“Do you see that? There used to be a statue of Prosaic there!”

Phenelity pointed precisely at the empty center of the square.

“A-another past… past tense. Did the statue c-collapse in a bombing like the de-department store or h-hotel?”

“No, people found out that the portrait everyone believed to be Prosaic was actually the face of a contemporary fraud. So they tore down the statue modeled after that portrait.”

“Tha-that’s unfortunate.”

He replied disinterestedly and started the car again. Phenelity pressed her face against the window, staring intently at the receding square.

“Prosaic is one of my favorite poets. Who’s your favorite poet?”

“I, I… hate poetry. D-during my cadet days…”

Viett blurted out and then bit his lip. He gripped the handle tightly and muttered a curse.

Why did I bring up those miserable days? Telling her about my foolish past will only make me look pathetic.

“What happened during your cadet days?”

But seeing his wife’s worried face made him feel at ease. Maybe, it’s okay to tell her my story. He hesitated for a moment and then mumbled in a tense voice.

“D-Desfield Military Academy… values the literary skills of its cadets.”

“I’ve heard of it. They recite heroic odes or dedicatory poems every morning during roll call, right?”

“Y-Yes. Cadets had to stand at the podium one by one a-according to their military number… and r-recite poems.”

That cursed order came to Viett, a new cadet, as well. He was only eleven years old. He couldn’t sleep all night, worried about being humiliated in front of his peers. Even just before roll call, he clutched the paper with his poem and trembled.

“B-But… until g-graduation, I never had to stand at the po-podium.”

Viett smiled bitterly. That day, he felt both relief and self-loathing. He was relieved that the instructors skipped his turn, but he was too ashamed to lift his head.

“Until graduation?”

Phenelity exclaimed in surprise. Viett nodded with an awkward expression.

“T-The training instructors… exempted me.”

Among hundreds of cadets, Viett was the only one who never got a chance to recite. Admitting that humiliating fact in front of his wife, who he wanted to be a strong support, made him feel even more bitter.

That’s why he hated poetry. Whenever he encountered poetry, he remembered the lonely, isolated feeling during roll call and the self-loathing he felt each time.

“That’s too much. Why did they exclude only you from reciting?”

Phenelity mumbled in a frustrated voice. Viett glanced at her face. She genuinely looked like she didn’t understand. Does she really not know?

“T-That’s because I…”

He should have felt terrible and ashamed to reveal his embarrassing flaw. But he didn’t. His usually bustling wife was sitting quietly, waiting for him to speak calmly, without any disdain in her eyes.

He felt certain that it would be okay with her. He impulsively blurted out his words.

“Look at the way I t-talk. You can’t say it’s n-normal.”

An awkward silence followed. Just as he regretted saying it, Phenelity rubbed her chin and mumbled.

“Come to think of it, the professors at the academy often excluded me from class presentations too. I talk fast, ramble on, and my delivery is poor despite all my talking, right?”

He thought blankly. So, she was aware of it…

“The professors must have disliked that. I was so frustrated that I practiced reciting poems and worked on my articulation every evening. But it didn’t improve.”

“…”

“Would you like to hear it? Here, this is ‘The Praising Sea’ by Prosaic, which I often practiced.”

Of all things, it was the poem he hated the most. Before he could stop her, Phenelity began reciting.

“I am the flower in the water, you are the bird playing in the white waves. We are in the vast and blue wilderness…”

“S-Stop it.”

Viett gripped the handle tightly, looking distressed. He couldn’t stand the chills running down his spine.

“I-I hate poetry…”

“Even listening to it?”

“L-Listening to it… and t-talking about it. I hate it all.”

“Got it. I won’t do it.”

He looked at his wife with a newfound gaze. ‘The Praising Sea’ by Prosaic. He never thought his always restless wife would like such a static poem.

“Why did you stop the car suddenly?”

“J-Just a moment…”

He hurriedly stopped the car and opened the booklet given by Rose. Didn’t she say he had to write the last one out of the hundred? He thought about jotting something down and opened the booklet wide. But on the very first page, he saw Prosaic’s name.

「Sixth. Pepe likes poetry more than novels. (She often reads poetry collections. Her favorite poem is ‘The Praising Sea’ by Prosaic. She has a cute habit of adding melodies to this poem and mumbling it like a song.)」

…I can’t handle this. He closed the booklet, feeling a painful sense of defeat.

* * *

Finally, a telegram arrived from the Westenia royal family, who had been completely silent. The telegram, sent to the command headquarters, reached Viett after passing through several official channels. The one who brought the telegram to Viett’s residence was Esca. He came with a young soldier with a face full of freckles, who saluted nervously as soon as he crossed the threshold.

“Commander! Congratulations on your marriage!”

“This is Corporal Donion.”

Esca smiled and patted Corporal Donion’s shoulder. Then he handed Viett a folded piece of paper politely.

“Here. A telegram from His Majesty the King, Your Highness.”

Viett ignored his friend’s ridiculous bow and unfolded the paper. Despite having passed through many hands, it contained nothing significant. It merely instructed them to send a portrait of the couple to hang on the central staircase of the royal palace. There was no mention of congratulations on the marriage, but Viett wasn’t surprised by his father’s indifference. However, Esca’s indifferent addition was surprising.

“By the way, the portrait needs to be sent to Westenia by the end of this week.”