You Think I Won't Talk?-Chapter 418
"..."
Forcibly calm, his fidgety hand was the only one that moved, fixing an already cleanly closed button while what he already suspected was confirmed straightforwardly by Zeleskiaz.
Clemente’s soft brown hues wavered for a moment at the little precaution the crown prince had while staring so lovingly at the chosen, promised to the Empire. Feeling as uncomfortable as he did the moment a limit was placed on actions... ones he had deemed as natural for one he thought of as pleasant... Annoyed greatly by it, so that even his controlled expressions had trouble remaining unfazed.
’Capricious and judges what he wishes... What a disgrace to the throne.’ — The young nobleman thought to himself as his gaze turned from the man and lady’s figures. Turning also on his feet to suddenly meet the mother who had approached him without him noticing. — "!..... Dear Mother, I did not notice your presence. My apologies."
"How unlike my admirable son... Nonetheless, I am aware of the weariness showing these many guests can provoke. No need for apologies."
"... Is Mother retiring to her chambers? Your health..."
"You do not ask yet answer beforehand to my intentions, fufu... however, you are correct, my son.
I am deeply sorry... yet I believe my energy is not the same even if my health has recovered."
"... I will escort you to your chambers." — Staring attentively at the clearly tired Norma, Clemente in his passive character took a moment to dismiss the light sadness her leave lit within him, offering his arm that had grown manly to an exhausted but always loved mother.
"My... do not say that. Your guests are here."
"My mother is also here and I am to care for her."
"... Goodness, how to deny you then? You are so strict and yet at times like these you resemble your father the most, Clemente." — With a tired yet pleased smile, Norma exhaled taking the arm that would not lower even as she tried to do so with a gentle hand. Starting to pace along with her determined child, towards the chamber she was to retire to.
"... Father’s son I am." — He said, slightly late, yet proud of her statement.
"Fufu~ You are... and your tight character comes from this mother... I am proud, my dear Clemente. Only I regret my energies are not enough to dance a piece tonight with my precious son."
"It is alright... Mother’s presence tonight is what this son appreciates the most. Do not feel concerned."
"... If you say so..."
A fond grin that hid the told regret for her son was placed in Norma’s visage as she also listened to his kindness.
Bowing to those they walked by as the son took care of his mother, the two soon left behind a buzzing hall, to only listen to the steps they gave as they crossed their vast residence.
Norma and Clemente’s severe presence was perceived by the guarding servants, placing truth in the inheritance Clemente had taken from his barer.
It was before the door of his parents’ chamber that both stopped. Standing properly before the other, while the Mother looked carefully over the clean pose of his honourable son, whose head was slightly lowered in a sign of respect.
"..."
The corners of the woman lightly lifted to the sight as she could see her young self in the son she had raised. And her hands, carefully yet determined, then lifted to fix an attire that never needed any fixing, patting softly the tough chest of her grown son.
"Congratulations, my son... How proud you make us, Clemente... Every day. Not only today, my dear."
"... I have many things to still learn."
"And you will learn them. You will fail and learn them. As I taught you, be proud of failure for it makes us better."
"Yes, Mother."
"..... May I tell you a small thing, Clemente?"
"Mother can always tell."
"Fufu..." — Glad of his trust, Norma giggled. Resuming severity as she said what she wished to. — "I saw you were enjoying conversations with Sylfinnier’s daughter."
"... She is the awaited Ninth."
"Hm? Do you believe I am ignorant of such?" — With playful teasing, Norma lifted her thin brow to her son. Discreetly chuckling to herself as the young Clemente, lightly smiled moving his head slowly in denial.
"Of course not. Mother somehow always knows... you did say you believed I was to get along with her."
"... Always, huh?"
"Every time without failure."
Taking a moment to appreciate the gentleness granted in her son’s demeanour, Norma grinned, adding to his sayings with seemingly innocent reasons behind her beliefs.
"She is Duke Sylfinnier’s daughter and is not far from your age. It only made sense to myself."
"... I see... You were correct then again. She is pleasant to talk to, mother."
"... I know you make an effort dancing with a lady at least in every ball." — Taking a moment to tell what she truly aimed, then Norma softly declared to her son. — "Tonight, it was I who you said you wished to dance with... and yet I am deeply sorry, my dear son... Even now... it is a strenuous effort I make solely to remain here with you... hah..."
"! Mother, go inside if that is the case. The dance does not matter... It was a wish I told when young..."
"Yet it is an innocent wish my son had."
"..."
"Give your hand to your mother." — Extending her hand so he would place his on hers, Norma waited for him to obey after useless ponder.
Smiling at the warm toughness of his grown hand, the mother then lifted her limb as much as she could, becoming strict again as she demanded cooperation from the unmovable Clemente. — "Now... You are not as small as before, aid your mother this time."
"..."
Severe as Clemente was, it was a second after that his head lowered, aiding the mother to make him swirl under her hand... slowly as if to enjoy the briefness.
"..."
The silence felt as if strengthening after he came back to his original posture, feeling his cheeks burn as he felt embarrassed to follow the innocent order of her mother.