Machinist of Mana Chapter 98 Joy and Tears

There was at least one advantage to my new schedule, and that was flexibility. Most of the time when we were at school, we were at school, with only our rest days to take off. However with personal training being the bulk of what I was doing I could finish up early in the afternoon before one of our off days and, well, go home. Perhaps in my first or second year I'd not have been allowed to do such a thing, but now... nobody seemed to mind.

And that was how I found myself heading back to the city one early afternoon. I'd only get to spend the night with my family, but I'd not seen my parents in a year, and it would be nice to catch up. Perhaps we weren't that close, but I still cared for them.

As I rolled up to the doorway I got an unexpected surprise, mother herself coming out to greet me. Rather than send one of the maids or housekeepers to wait, she must have stayed at the door herself, looking for me to pull up to the curb.

The moment the door was closed she wrapped me up on a tight hug. It wouldn't be 'proper' for her to do so outside unless something insane had happened, but here she didn't hold back.

“Oh Percival, you've grown so much!” she gushed.

“Not really...” I demurred, though in retrospect I had gotten an inch or two.

“Nonsense, come in, we've got to catch up.”

“I suppose you're going to tell me how displeased you are that I took the plane?” I asked as we sat down.

“I hadn't planned to, but if you're going to bring it up it was dangerously irresponsible. Your grandfather seemed satisfied with the punishment he gave though.”

“You're being strangely nice...” I observed.

“Well, before I got here your grandmother and I had a long conversation about me leaving you to what would normally be my work.” Ah, that explained it, mother might not be one to cross, but grandmother was an outright monster when she wanted to be.

I chuckled. “Yes, please don't do that again.”

“Worry not, your father and I are doing it this time around. I think he's going through the ledgers as we speak.” I raised an eyebrow, she'd somehow managed to pawn some of it off on dad? That was impressive, and showed that while she never complained, she must have really hated doing the paperwork herself.

“Think we'll see him before dinner?” I asked.

“Percival, be nice, your father is... well he likes his work, and it makes him happy to do it.”

I had nothing personal against my dad, but I just didn't understand him at all. He avoided us most of the time, getting deep into his own work and research, or whatever he did. He was distant, not cold, but just so far away that I never really got to know him. My few attempts over the years had all ended in failure.

Mother had been formal for most of my life, but she was around, present and happy to spend time with me. If I went to her and tried to make some connection she seemed happy to have it, but my father, not so much. She and I, even though we were separated like men and women in our society were still talked, still spent time together, she'd even given me some of my first training with the sword, and never missed any tournament I went to if she could help it.

Father still cared I thought, in his own odd way, but it was like there was some blockage between us. He'd given me my sword, he'd spoken to me once or twice, and even appeared one time when I'd taken a bad loss in a fencing match to pat me on the back, but it was like he just didn't understand what to do at all.

Not sure what to do with it I ended up sitting and telling my mother about my schoolwork. I was leaving out a lot of the parts about the various attacks, she could hear about those from others. We even got into my current relationship with Rowenna, something she was more than eager to speak about, giving that whole part of our conversation rapt attention.

Soon enough we'd worked our way though most of the events I wanted to talk about and she got onto what they'd been doing. She and father had spent last year doing a bit of light traveling through the kingdom, never too far from our summer home, but enough to get places they'd never been before.

“Honestly it was the best thing we've done in years,” she finally ended. “I know I'm expected to come here and and then, but I truly don't like this city. When you graduate I might never come back.”

“Why?” I asked surprised.

“It's stuffy, small, and smells devastatingly bad. More than that I frankly dislike 'the Season' as a whole. Seems like a grand waste of time and effort.”

“Yet you're here now,” I pointed out.

“To see you. Your father and I talked about it, and though you'll eventually inherit all the estates we thought you might like to stay in this house in a couple years when you graduate. It would give you some... privacy, particularly should you and Rowenna decide to marry.”

“Is... is that why you left me with all the paperwork?”

“Um,” she nodded thoughtfully. “And that I hate it.” That made me laugh.

“I'll think about it, but don't rush things.”

Time was limited, and soon enough it was time for dinner. I hadn't had dinner with them properly for too long, and though it was a bit formal for me I still liked it. There was a little chatting with my father, who looked bothered for some reason, and dishes that I liked much more than those from the school.

When it was all done we split for the evening. Since I had tomorrow off I'd stay here, after all, my bed was much better than the one provided by the school.

It was as I passed the servant's quarters that I heard it, weeping, and muffled voices from deep within. That was odd, very odd, so I listened for a moment more.

“Shh dear, it's going to be okay, you didn't do anything wrong and everyone knows it. I'm sure you'll get a good reference, there's nothing at all to worry about,” my favorite cook coo'ed, trying to reassure someone.

The response was unintelligible through the tears that had to be flowing, but I knew the voice, the tone, the sounds. Without hesitation I knocked on the door to their quarters, after all, there were ladies inside and it wasn't somewhere I should go without permission from the residents anyway.

A few moments later Mrs. Rider opened the door a bit, looking out at me.

“Why is Kaylee crying?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Sir, really this isn't something you should get involved in,” she answered, trying to close the door.

She tried, but failed, for I'd placed my hand upon it, and though Mrs. Rider might be strong in many ways my body might have as well been an iron doorstop.

“Why is Kaylee crying?” I repeated, letting just a hint of the fury I felt creep in, and I saw her pale. Perhaps I wasn't known for anger, but she knew well just how dangerous that was.