Chapter 11: With uneven strides, once again

────Eris’ POV────

The two Sword Kings who had left the Holy Land of Swords and come to the Magic City of Sharia quickly became the talk of the town. In a land where magical skill and knowledge were considered the greatest of honors, they displayed a power and presence so overwhelming that no one could raise a word against them.

And yet, the person herself paid no heed to the noisy voices from outside—today again, she was troubled inside the Greyrat estate.

──Yes, the problem was that she had no work.

Her daughter, Edith, had already begun tagging along after Aisha and joining in her work the very next day after moving into the mansion. But when Eris herself tried to do the same, she kept failing. Once, when she broke one of Sylphiette’s treasured cutting boards, it was Edith who paled and apologized before she herself could.

To be covered for by her own daughter—who had no ill intent—and to make her bow her head for Eris’ mistake left Eris with a deep sense of unease. (Sure, Sylphiette and Roxy had acknowledged her as a swordswoman, but that was a different matter entirely.)

Normally, she would have been able to shake it off and act positively, but… as someone who had also come from the Holy Land of Swords to be welcomed into this household, the fact that she was less useful as a member of the family than her young daughter—whom she always made endure so much—gnawed at her and refused to let her forget it.

Even while giving Norn some pointers during her day off training, she kept racking her brain, searching for a way she could contribute. (When it came to household chores, Edith—who was also just starting out—was making progress by observing and copying Aisha, while Eris could not keep up at all. She had resigned herself to needing time to learn little by little.)

…But, since no matter how long she thought nothing came to mind, she decided to give up quickly and once again consult the others—anyone except Rudeus.

"Mother, if it’s work you’re after, why not simply take on disciples as a Sword King?"

"Edith… isn’t it a bit rude to speak so lightly of taking disciples as a Sword King?"

"That’s true! How did I not think of that?!"

"Eh!? That really was the right answer!?"

It seemed even Roxy had thought the same, but she had been too considerate of Eris’ pride as a Sword King to say it out loud. Of course, Eris herself had no such reservations. On the contrary, the idea of having disciples as a master filled her with excitement.

"Can I really fulfill the role of a master…?"

"You’ll be fine, Mother! The very next day you put up a dojo, people will be lining up to become your disciples!"

Edith was the first to encourage her, and the others quickly chimed in with their support.

Indeed, it was nothing to agonize over. At last, she had found work that only she could do, and the tightness she’d been carrying in her chest seemed to dissolve.

"Thank you, Edith. Your mother will do her best from now on."

She said that while patting Edith’s head. Her green hair, usually hidden beneath a hat, shook messily. It was the same color as Ruijerd’s—the companion who had once traveled with them for three long years.

Green hair was considered ominous, not just on the Central Continent, and she only revealed it without a hat in front of her family. Eris herself had been terrified of Ruijerd when they first met, so she could hardly blame others.

Of course, neither she nor Rudeus cared in the slightest anymore, but the world was not so kind, and Edith had suffered hardships since the day she was born.

Thinking back now, even though she couldn’t see her father Rudeus at the time, Eris herself had buried herself in training, barely giving her daughter attention. She could hardly call herself a good mother.

Now that even Ghislaine, who had looked after Edith, was living separately, she couldn’t bear to push everything onto Sylphiette and Roxy again.

Resolving to stand tall as both wife and mother, Eris renewed her determination to face Rudeus—something she had long avoided.

────Edith’s POV────

It has been ten days since we began living here, and at last, Mother has taken action.

In these ten days, I too had settled into the household to some degree. But the relationship between Mother and Father had remained unchanged.

Mother, who would tense up and glare whenever she saw Father. Father, who would cower and flee in return. Watching that endless game of cat and mouse was painful to the stomach.

I could have told Mother that she was scaring him, but to make Father hear it as a tattletale from his daughter—or for Mother to learn that she was frightening the man she had longed for over five years—would have been too cruel. I couldn’t do it.

With me in between, they managed at least a minimum of conversation. But aside from moments when Father got carried away and smothered me in affection, he couldn’t quite grasp the right distance, and things never went deeper.

Just a while ago, Mother and I even ended up peeking in on Father hugging Roxy Mother… only to hear his "Kyaa!"—a scream I never wanted to hear.

Of course, things couldn’t go on like that forever under the same roof. Father, as if having snapped when he bumped into Mother by chance, suddenly groped her chest and was promptly knocked flat.

…Honestly, I wish he would think about how it feels to see my father like that multiple times in one day.

Afterwards, Mother held Father’s head on her lap as they talked for a while, and then—for reasons I don’t know—they both grabbed wooden swords and went out into the garden. (I had no intention of rudely peeking in, so I left quickly, and don’t know the details.)

On one side, Father, who could do everything yet grew worn down from never being able to expose his delicate, tender side. On the other, Mother, who was so sharply divided between what she could and couldn’t do that she hurt both herself and others without realizing it. Truly, they were mismatched.

But precisely because they cared for one another, precisely because they could fill each other’s shortcomings, their steps had never matched.

Still, since Mother had now decided to act, I was no longer worried.

Both of them were strong in body and spirit, and deeply loving. If one of them reached out, there would be no rift.

Once again, they would be able to pull each other along. And even if they did stumble, Sylphy Mother and Roxy Mother would surely hold the reins for them.

That evening at dinner, it was announced that Mother had been formally accepted as the third wife.