I Want To Be Your First – R19 - Chapter 74

The murmuring disappeared and a frigid silence took its place.

Just as the Marquis of Poen, who had jumped up and looked at him, was about to refute, Berthwald interrupted him by raising his hand.

“I have now realised that I do not have enough years and experience to bear the weight of being the chief consul. I came to this conclusion after deep consideration, so I hope that the members can take this fact into  account, and understand the changes.”

He enunciated each syllable in a serious tone, forehead creased. Afterwards, he turned towards the two other consuls, a feeble smile on his face.

Throwing incredulous gazes at him, both the Marquis of Poen and the Count of Valkest sighed and shook their heads.

What could they even do? Up till now, there hasn’t been a person that willingly resigned from the post of consul, but no rule stated that one couldn’t.

They would have dissuaded him if he had discussed it with them beforehand, but seeing how he had done so in front of everyone, they couldn’t salvage this situation.

Berthwald nodded and pulled his lips into a faint smile.

“I will leave the matters regarding the next chief consul to the other two consuls. I will fulfil my obligations to the best of my abilities during the rest of my tenure, and I hope that everyone will be supportive in my decision.”

Berthwald bowed and with long strides, he exited the silent Great Hall. Just as he turned into the hallway, a loud clamour erupted from within.

Watching the situation blankly, Vion soon followed after him. Ignoring the cries of Count Jansel, the Consul, Commissioner of Pahar, and many others behind him, he strode forward with wide steps.

But an unexpected figure stood in front of him, rolling his eyes. It was Pelman, Berthwald’s chief judge advocate.

“C—Consul! Chief Consul!”

Rushing over hastily, Pelman bent over, breathing heavily. He rushed over so quickly that his glasses slipped downwards, about to fall from the tip of his nose.

“Why, why are you resigning all of a sudden?”

“Are you surprised?”

“Of course! What is this…! A bolt out of the blue… A bolt out of the blue…!”

“I didn’t know you’d find my resignation so shocking. I’m very moved.”

“I’m not joking! Who in the world would give up the position of consul willingly? It’s such a waste, and moreover, you’re still so young!”

“Still water rots eventually, so wouldn’t it make sense to let it flow before it rots?”

Although only two years had passed, it felt odd to talk about himself as still water. Pelman bit back the words threatening to pour out of his mouth, a disapproving gaze on his face.

Berthwald nodded calmly, as if reacting to Pelman’s gaze.

“Half of those were sincere words. You should cheer up. I’m planning on recommending you as the next candidate.”

“What? M-me?”

Instead of appreciating, Berthwald let out a laugh, fiddling with the judge advocate badge on Pelman’s collar. It was a lofty laugh, but as Pelman wondered what he was up to, shivers ran down the back of his neck.

Leaving behind the baffled Pelman, Berthwald and Vion walked out of the Hall of Legislative Assembly. Vion, who had been silent the whole time, spoke in a calm voice as soon as the carriage started moving.

“You’re fast.”

“Didn’t it take longer than you had imagined?”

“I thought you’d at least serve three consecutive terms.”

Though Vion had expected him to step down sooner or later, he didn’t expect him to do it so quickly.

He thought that his lord would be a little more greedy as it was a position he worked so hard for, but he flung it away so easily. He was indeed as unpredictable as ever.

Berthwald’s eyebrows raised, questioning him in surprise, “It’s not like you to mistake my acts and purpose.”

He tilted his head and stared at Vion. The tone of his voice conveyed a feeling similar to that of reproach, but there wasn’t any regret.

“I was going to quit as soon as the wedding date was set. I continued to stay for my reputation.”

And that was true. As the condition was only to reach the position of consul, he wanted to hold the wedding on the day he was  inaugurated as a consul.

The wedding was delayed only because of the work’s demands, and the fox-like Duke of Aegis who tried to delay the wedding date.

“Pelman would make a good consul. He has good records, is sincere and quick-witted. He grumbles a lot but always manages to finish his work on time.”

The finger rubbing against the window frame started tapping to the rhythm of the carriage.

Berthwald smiled and added more words, “He’s a simple man, so we can easily woo him. I don’t have to sit in the consul’s seat, and it’d be better to use Pelman when I want to dig into the Senate.”

“…So that’s why you picked a judge.”

“Isn’t it good? I’m going to sort it out and rest in the south with Ariel for a while.”

Unlike his insidious words, his lips were arched into a bright smile.

As expected, he was not someone who’d give up his title so obediently. This reminded Vion of what Berthwald used to mutter like a habit, ‘Dismiss obligations, but take profit,’ Vion expressed his condolences for Pelman with an uneasy look on his face.

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The pigeon who carried the letters, flew freely in the sky.

Less than a day after the flapping of the pigeon’s wings reached the capital, the news that Count Janssel had resigned as consul spread throughout the capital.

There were numerous speculations such as whether he was crazy, whether there was a problem with his family, or if he had any health problems, but the answer could not be concluded because the person involved was silent. The nobles, who were agonizing over it, recalled the recent disagreement between the imperial family and the count.

As a result, the answer was, “Didn’t he resign because he was being chased by external pressure from the imperial family?” and the nobles began to look knowingly at Berthwald, as if they felt sorry for him.

The snowballing rumour caused a lot of chaos. But he didn’t care. Berthwald’s interest was elsewhere.

“I want to go down quickly… I’m dying.”

Vion mumbled while fiddling with the pen, “Why am I still here…” This was followed by a sigh of pain.

One, two, three piles of papers as tall as a vase… and twelve more stacks. Just looking at it made him sigh again.

Fortunately, the case of voluntary resignation was accepted by the parliament without any problems. However, even though he resigned, the two consuls nagged, telling him to fix what he had done and leave.

Because of this, as soon as he announced his intention to resign, Berthwald, who was about to leave Pelman with his duties and tried to run away, had to stay there the whole time, despite his resignation.

Of course, Vion, who was stuck with him, also had to endure the role of assistant secretary, instead of being an escort.

Just like that, after a full moon passed, a letter flew in. It was Ariel’s letter.

[Looks like autumn is already here. It’s gotten a little chilly at night.

I finished making the sweater, when will you wear it? I have something to tell you… 

I pray every day that you’ll return quickly.]

It was a short letter of only three lines, but it was enough to touch Berthwald’s heart.

Berthwald quietly put down the letter and convened all the judges. Of course, Pelman was also mixed in there.

“I called because I have something to confess.”

Berthwald frowned, sighing deeply, rubbing the area around his chest. He moved his hand slowly, then pressed it against his upper chest and let out a short groan.

To seem like a sick person.

With his eyes closed, he uttered, “I really didn’t want to say it, but… I have a chronic heart disease.”

The judges raised their eyebrows as he threw this out in a gloomy voice.

“So, maybe the reason you’re resigning is that you’re not feeling well?”

“You have a bad complexion, I wish you had told us in advance…!”

“I had no idea. Are you feeling okay?”

His eyebrows twitched in response to their hilarious reactions. Berthwald let out a bitter smile and nodded slowly.

“It’s not that bad, but I’m so tired that it’s hard to bear. I wanted to go down to Pahar and devote myself to recuperation, but…”

It wasn’t a lie.

He did have chronic pain.

One side of his chest was throbbing, desperate to see someone.

As if looking into a distant place, the judges recalled their pitiful expressions in their vague gaze. Only Pelman looked at him with suspicion and wondered if he was doing an act.

Berthwald raised his eyebrows as he met Pelman’s gaze.

“I have finished organising all of the major proposals and funds for the second half of the year, so I would like the judges to handle the rest… Chief Justice. Are you okay?”

When he asked in a weak manner, the eyes of the judges all turned to Pellman, the chief judge.

‘Are you really sick? Or do you just want to leave the job and run away?’ Pelman, who was about to say this, could not stand the eyes of the judges full of sympathy for Berthwald, and squeezed out an answer.

“…Sure. It’s fine. Health is the most important thing… Isn’t it?”

As soon as the chief judge’s permission was granted, the judges’ eyes brightened and they immediately followed.

“We’ll take care of the review, so please go home now.”

“No wonder you’ve been having a hard time these days… That’s right. Hurry up and rest.”

Berthwald left the office pretending not to be happy, showcasing an expression of regret. Vion, who was observing the situation, grabbed all the rest of the luggage and followed.

“What was written on the letter to make you hurry so much?”

Berthwald was pretending to be calm, but as his long-time escort, Vion could notice his impatience. He asked a question, and the answer came as if he had been waiting for it.

“I wanted to try on a sweater.”

“A sweater? You don’t wear them in the south.”

“Why? You wear sweaters when it’s cold. So shouldn’t I go down and try it on right away?”

No, it’s not cold at all in the South… 

Vion, who was about to mumble this, saw his master’s serious expression and swallowed back his words.

It was really hot, but he looked like he was all ready to wear that sweater.