Chapter 140
Lately, my satisfaction with the working environment has skyrocketed.
Now that the dating competition has ended, I’ve been spared from the excruciating spectacle of the five idiots’ antics. Thanks to that, my mental fatigue has dropped significantly. It’s like that trashy drama I begrudgingly watched has finally wrapped up.
With the eradication of their mutual sabotage and desperate attempts to one-up each other, our club has become remarkably calm and peaceful. When the higher-ups are quiet, the lowly underlings like me are happy.
“This tastes great today.”
“As expected from the head of the tenth club. You truly bring your A-game.”
“Thanks for acknowledging me…”
This peaceful banter warmed my heart. Yes, this is what an academy should be. This is what a club should feel like. Living under the constant fear of an explosive situation lurking around the corner isn’t how you should experience academia. This tranquility is the real deal.
Of course, I didn’t come to the academy just for fun, but considering the school life I missed out on, I believe I deserve to enjoy this peace, even if it’s a bit late. I hold onto that belief.
“Everyone has a happy ending.”
A satisfied smile crept onto my face. It’s a good ending for me, for Villar, for Louise, and even for those five idiots.
Had they been heartbroken over unrequited love, I might have felt differently. But seeing them have fun like this suggests that being rejected was the right call after all.
“You could’ve done this sooner.”
“Right? It’s a bit annoying.”
“Are we about to see the rise of the 11th club leader?”
“I messed up, so please let it go.”
Hearing the conversations of my fellow members surrounding the cookies made me chuckle.
It worked like a charm.
Louise’s infamous streak of nine consecutive impeachments was enough to send her into a spiral of humiliation and shame. Maybe that’s why she poured all her energy into making these cookies, and it seems she finally got the members’ approval.
Getting impeached every other day was overkill. I mean, it got to the point where the term “1 Louise” became a unit of measurement within the club.
“When’s the class battle?”
“Seven Louises later.”
This roughly translates to about 14 days later. While kneading dough, Louise trembled so much at the sound of those words that it was a bit concerning to witness.
But the ones who said it were acting completely unfazed.
Of course, it was just playful banter, so it didn’t lead to any hard feelings. Outside of the club, they seemed to act totally normal.
If the royals started using “1 Louise” outside the club, the other students might pick it up too. Just imagining it gives me chills. Maybe Louise would even end up sobbing and dropping out.
But that’s unlikely.
We’ve been getting along as platonic friends, so there’s no need to pressure her.
It isn’t just my imagination; the club members genuinely seem closer than before. It’s surprisingly true when they say “let’s remain good friends” actually resonates.
“Oppa, over here!”
Seeing them bond so quickly after reconciling had me mulling over whether the original story was more of a friendship fantasy than a romance fantasy. Just then, a cookie popped up in front of me.
Louise, recognizing me as a regular, even delivered it personally. What a touching gesture.
“Thank you.”
I smiled slightly and accepted the cookie she offered.
These days, the other members have grown fond of the cookies too, so my share has decreased a bit. Because of that, each cookie feels a bit more precious. It’s slightly bittersweet; it feels like my little hidden gem of a spot has turned into a hot tourist destination.
“You did an excellent job with these.”
After a few bites, I patted Louise on the shoulder. It seemed like something had changed from before, but that was probably due to her tailoring them to everyone’s tastes.
*
I glanced at my older brother’s face. He wore that same tired expression as always. He would occasionally smile, but honestly, it was hard to tell unless I looked closely.
Then, I turned to Louise. It was plain to see the affection shimmering in her eyes, her face flushed with emotion. Compared to how she used to react like a cat with its tail raised when we teased her, this was a stark contrast.
Hmm.
Is it winter already?
Why do my sides feel chilly?
I absentmindedly rubbed my side, but nothing changed. Winter is merely a moody fairy, showing up in my heart rather than this world.
Did my brain freeze too?
Making these bizarre analogies probably means my mind has also lost its spark. But it’s not my fault. Blaming this situation on me would be way too harsh.
Given Lady Marghetta’s example, I anticipated my brother wouldn’t notice Louise’s feelings. I even prepared myself to watch Louise flounder awkwardly in front of him.
Bitter, but what can I do? As the one who got dumped, I can’t tell Louise to hold back in my presence.
Yet, this is over the line.
How can he not see that?
Even a passing dog would catch on! If I asked that dog about their relationship, it would probably wag its tail in support of her obvious affection. Louise’s gaze was so transparent.
And my brother, despite receiving such blatant looks, showed no response. If he was pretending not to notice, then he deserves a stern talking-to; but if he genuinely didn’t realize, his cluelessness would concern me for both Lady Marghetta and Louise.
Poor Louise.
If my brother is this dense, then Louise should take charge. With the courage she had to reject all five of us, tackling a simple love confession should be a piece of cake!
Yet, Louise hasn’t said a word. Not for 10 Louises, or even for 20 days. To be precise, she simply didn’t manage to do it.
She must still be waiting for the lady.
The first, or perhaps the only, wife my brother would have is practically confirmed to be a noble lady. The catch is that even she hasn’t formally established a relationship with him yet. Directly expressing her feelings for him in such a scenario might provoke the lady’s wrath.
That would drastically decrease Louise’s chances of becoming his wife. No matter how possible it is for him to take a new wife on his own, he’d need to tread carefully while the first wife belongs to a ducal family.
…Honestly, given my brother’s catastrophic cluelessness, he might just charge ahead and ignore the consequences.
Anyway, I just hope there’s some progress in their relationship. Whether it leads to success or failure, just having an outcome would alleviate this anxiety. What is the point of being rejected if this is the result?
“Are you looking at your future sister-in-law?”
“Shut it.”
I instinctively replied to Rutis, who was whispering and nudging me. I was already vexed, and on top of that, his words were jarring.
Rutis chuckled at my retort before shifting his gaze to where my brother and Louise sat.
“That’s so frustrating.”
“Totally frustrating.”
I nodded in agreement. My brother’s obliviousness was infuriating, especially when he was flipping oblivious to the kind of gazes we longed for. If he were my younger brother, a few smacks would’ve been in order.
How on earth has he survived with such a lack of awareness?
I sympathized with Rutis. As a high-ranking official, he probably navigated all sorts of political situations. I couldn’t fathom how he had endured this long with such poor perceptiveness!
We must look like that to him.
“Probably.”
Rutis’s sharp comment momentarily left me breathless, yet I managed to affirm it.
My current expression while looking at my brother must be exactly what he felt in the past.
Did I truly act like that?
It’s horrifying. I’m embarrassed by my past self.
Even worse, I wasn’t clueless about affection; I just felt frustrated about the lack of relationship progress. I was just as clueless as my brother.
At least the other four are in the same boat, which gives me a little reassurance. It’s comforting to know I’m not the only idiot. The embarrassment lessens when shared after all.
“Let’s just wait and see.”
Rutis’ unexpected suggestion surprised me. I thought he’d rush into helping a friend’s romance given his impulsiveness.
As if reading my thoughts, he smiled and continued, “Help from five love failures doesn’t seem particularly useful.”
Touché.
I couldn’t counter his logic.
*
After about three weeks of peace, it seems the tension has finally eased.
“Carl, is something going on?”
If nothing was wrong, then this sudden concern wouldn’t have arisen.
Marghetta hesitantly asked, glancing at me, which made me feel a little awkward. I must have accidentally let it slip that something was occupying my thoughts. Naturally, it’s only natural for Marghetta to be curious.
But I couldn’t just confess to Marghetta, “Louise rejected all five club members, so I’m feeling really comfortable.” Especially since one of those five is Erich. It would be disheartening to be seen as delighted by my brother’s misfortune.
“It’s nothing much.”
“Really?”
And then I realized that seeing Marghetta looking so dejected was even sadder.
I fluffed it up earlier; I had resolved to express everything honestly without holding back, but hiding even trivial matters seemed problematic.
“It’s just club-related. The members have bonded more closely.”
So I decided to be candid.
“The members’ bonding?”
“Yes.”
Marghetta looked wide-eyed, as if she hadn’t anticipated that.
That’s not surprising at all. Marghetta has spent time close to me, often intertwining with the pastry club, even hanging out together during breaks. She knows our pastry club is essentially a gathering for love-struck individuals.
Yet if the rivals in unrequited love are getting along, it must be perplexing. She might even think Louise is aiming to collect five husbands!
“…I see.”
After I explained that it was actually the opposite, Marghetta vacantly nodded. The tale of a baron’s daughter decisively rejecting a few princes and a saint candidate is remarkable. Honestly, I wouldn’t have believed it either if I weren’t in this world.
“I was worried it might break the club apart, but surprisingly, everyone’s gotten closer. It’s like they’re ten-year friends now.”
“…”
“Mar?”
When Marghetta, who had been quiet, suddenly stood up and plopped down beside me.
“Carl.”
Then she took my hand with a serious expression.
“I will always be by your side.”
“Thank you for your kind words.”
“Closer than anyone else.”
“Even more appreciated!”
The serious expression contrasted whimsically with her words, but it was oddly endearing.
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