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Violet's First Words - Episode 22 "What are you doing?" Ash suddenly seized Violet's wrist. Her cheeks flushed crimson. "...I was just bothered by what you said earlier." "That I'd help you?" "...That bothers me too, but are you really going to withdraw from the Academy?" Her voice naturally grew quieter. Ash's expression remained composed. "Of course." "Why? Don't tell me it's because of me?" "That's ‌‌‌‌a cute misunderstanding, but you're not the center of the world. I was planning to do it anyway." Violet studied Ash for a moment, trying to discern his true intentions. No ‌‌‌matter how hard ‌‌‌‌she looked, she couldn't understand him. "Then I'm curious how you plan to help me." "We can discuss that slowly. But I can't just ask you to trust me for ‌‌nothing, so first I'll create something you desperately need today." "All I need right now is a place to spend tonight." Violet said this, though she had already decided to refuse even if Ash offered to let her stay. She wasn't shameless enough to hope for that much. And she didn't want to go home either. "I'll take care of that. But here's the ‌‌‌thing—what would you do if your Uncle agreed to take you in?" "Even so, I still need to complete the task my Uncle gave me. It's starting ‌‌to feel like something truly important to my life." Violet spoke ‌‌‌with unwavering resolve. Ash seemed pleased with her answer. There ‌‌‌‌was a hint of joy in his expression. "Then let me arrange for you to meet your Uncle. I'll convince him right away." * * * "I've already settled everything. Dragging knights around in broad daylight to assault innocent students would be ‌‌‌a scandal for the Knight Order Commander as well. The matter has been handled such that the young lady's family won't be informed separately, so please understand." The man called Brown appeared somewhat bewildered. Gran, Brown, and Ash stood in a line, gazing at Violet. 'They look like a group portrait from the magazine covers Marigold reads so often.' Violet thought honestly. "I hate standing ‌in a line ‌‌‌like this. When several tall, handsome men stand together ‌‌like that, it somehow looks like a group of idiots." Ash spoke leisurely. "That's because of our Ash's excessively radiant face. We ordinary ones are the victims, so to speak." Gran said. "I have another case to attend to, so I'll be taking my leave. Today has been excessively ‌‌‌busy." Brown glanced at ‌‌‌‌his watch, then departed with his ‌‌briefcase in hand. "Well then, let's hail a carriage." Gran had already stepped forward and was signaling for a carriage. Soon the carriage came to a stop. Ash grasped the carriage door and turned back. "So, where exactly is your relative's house?" * * * Cyril was anxious. ‌For days now, ‌he'd been rushing ‌‌out whenever he sensed the slightest sound beyond the front gate. 'How hard can it be to go curse out the family and come back!' How many days should such a thing take? 'What if that damned Geoffrey has done something to my niece.' If she'd been confined, he was ‌‌‌‌prepared to gather his colleagues ‌‌‌‌and orchestrate an escape. He'd seen his niece only a handful of times in his life. Yet the memory remained vivid—that day when he'd wrapped the newborn child in cloth, bound her to his chest, and walked all the way to the Capital. He had no money, no comfort, no ease. Every time he passed through ‌‌‌‌nearby villages, he had to swallow his shame and beg for milk to feed her. The ‌worst part was the fear. How he'd trembled, terrified that the small ‌‌‌child might die. When he knocked on Geoffrey's door and handed over the child, an emotion welled up inside him in an unexpected way. [If you kill this child, I'll kill you, Geoffrey.] Back then, all he could manage was a threat mixed with bluster. But now Cyril possessed wealth and connections. When Violet came to him asking for help, he was secretly delighted. "Damn it. What good does reading this do? Besides, that Violet is already eighteen years old. They call this a book and charge money for it?" Cyril hurled the third copy of "How to Handle Adolescent Children—Your Child's Emotions Determine Their Future" across the room. "Throwing books inside the house does not contribute to the morale of your employees, Cyril." Olive, his employee, picked up the book with an expressionless face. "Olive, go do your job." "Out of the regular sleep time of six hours and thirty minutes, I have already sacrificed three hours preparing the young lady's new room throughout the night. That ‌‌‌‌remark also does not contribute to the morale of a competent employee." "Not a single word, I swear." ‌"I recommend you read this book two or three more times. Particularly the next volume, 【A Teenage Girl's Love Life: We Don't Want Our Parents' Interference!】, which I've already skimmed through. I believe it would ‌‌be far more beneficial to read it after thoroughly studying this one." "...This is driving me ‌‌‌‌insane, seriously. What on earth is wrong with this household?" ‌‌‌Cyril pressed his hand to his head. At that moment, the doorbell chimed through the house. Cyril's shoulders flinched noticeably. "Shall I answer the door?" Olive spoke up. "No, I'll get it." "I'll remain in the kitchen until you call for me." Olive nodded and ‌‌‌‌spoke. Cyril rose from his seat. He walked slowly, careful not to betray any sense ‌‌‌of urgency. Then he composed himself and opened the door. But contrary to his expectations, the figure before Cyril's eyes ‌‌‌‌was a stranger—a young man. Impossibly handsome features, tall and lean. And an aura that was far from ordinary. Without thinking, ‌‌‍‌Cyril glanced back to check where his sword was positioned. "Who are you?" Cyril asked flatly. "It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Ash Defendale." The young man named Ash smiled gently. "Hello, Uncle. Ash is a ‌‌‌‌student at the Academy with me." At that moment, Violet peeked ‌‌her head out from beside the young man ‌‌and spoke. Cyril's expression softened upon spotting Violet. "Do we happen to know each other?" Ash asked Cyril. "If you're trying to flirt with me, I'll kill ‌‌you. I have no interest in men." ‌‌‌Cyril's face crumpled. "Don't worry. I'm currently quite busy flirting with someone else." Ash looked at Violet with a gentle expression. "I'm not ‌‌‌interested in wordplay. What brings you here?" Cyril crossed his arms, looking between the two of them. "I ‌heard the circumstances from Violet." Ash said with a slight smile. "What circumstances?" Cyril asked. "About the mission you gave her for the sake of her mental health." "I apologize for coming here without even finishing the task you assigned me." ‌‌Violet spoke dejectedly. Cyril found it absurd. Was that really ‌‌‌something worthy of ‌‌‌‌being called a task? He had simply hoped Violet would land a blow on Geoffrey and leave the house. There was no grand plan for Violet's mental health. "So, you haven't said a word to Geoffrey?" Cyril felt a twinge of disappointment. Even though he had spoken without great expectations, it was not a task he had assigned lightly. "I will. ‌‌‌‌It's in progress." Violet looked at Cyril with resolute eyes. "In any case, since that's how things have turned out, Violet cannot stay at Uncle's house yet, or so I'm told. That's why I've come to ‌‌ask for permission." It was then that Ash ‌‌spoke up. "...Permission for what." An ominous premonition caused Cyril's voice to drop. "Permission to cohabitate." Cyril needed a moment to process reality. ‌‌‌The impact of the words Ash had just ‌‌‌dropped was that significant. "You, what are you saying..." Cyril pointed at Ash with the tip of his finger. "As it happens, my residence has plenty of vacant rooms, so I intend to have Violet stay ‌‌at my house for the time being. ‌‌‌What ‌‌else would you call this if not cohabitation?" Cyril's hand trembled once. 'That pretty-faced fellow ‌with money and my niece? A young man and woman living under the same roof?' Yet Cyril desperately maintained his composure—it was the last shred of his pride. "Ash, we never discussed anything like this..." Violet tried to say something. But Ash gently cut her off. "Don't worry, Violet. I'll have ‌‌‌you stay in the room next ‌‌‌‌to mine, and I'll watch over you ‌carefully—morning, evening, and sometimes even until dawn." "..." "So even if it takes a year, or two years for Violet to move into Uncle's house, it doesn't matter. Isn't that right, Violet?" At that moment, Cyril's patience exploded. "How dare you attempt to ruin my niece's reputation!"

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