[94] The Genius Who Lost the Light (3)
Alpheas liked her that way. Even if her intelligence measured at ten, it didn't mean her way of thinking was childish. Tears pricked his eyes at the way she had already prepared for the possibility that her husband might fail and be disappointed.
"Darling, I…"
With trembling hands, Alpheas pulled out the golden medal.
"I did it! I won! It's the Gold Circle Award!"
Erina was usually calm and composed, but this time her luminous eyes—like they could hold the whole world—shone and trembled. The day Alpheas had talked about until he grew hoarse had finally come.
"Congratulations. I knew you'd win."
"Erina, it's because of you. It's all thanks to you. Come here—let me put it on you."
Alpheas believed Erina was the true owner of the Gold Circle. Clump, steady and simple-minded, didn't understand; he admired Alpheas for being able to decode Erina's childlike remarks. But Alpheas knew better: that small idea that had come from Erina's head would become a core code for humanity's future.
"This is for you. Your idea amazed the world."
As Alpheas leaned in with puckered lips, Erina drew back like a bashful new bride and said, "We should eat. Hurry up."
"Oh—sorry. Clump's throwing a party I should go to. I'll eat later."
"Ah, okay."
This time Erina couldn't hide her disappointment. Alpheas grinned like a mischief-maker and scooped her up.
"So we have to save time even for meals, huh."
"Kyaa!"
With Erina in his arms, Alpheas strode up the stairs to the second floor.
"Wait! You'll burn the bread doing that."
"Let it burn! If you won't, I will!"
After the award, dozens of invitations arrived each day. They were all from prestigious nobles and institutions. To mingle with everyone was to mingle with no one, so he refused all but the necessary connections and thereby raised his price. As part of that strategy, today Alpheas was leaving to attend a dinner hosted by the Alchemy Foundation—an organization that handled forty percent of the magic materials trade—an event he simply could not miss.
But Sarof and his friends, unaware of that, had been camped out in front of Alpheas's house since before sunset. They were unbearably anxious as they waited for evening to fall.
Sarof sighed. "Hah, this stings the pride."
"Is pride the problem? His value's shot up too much. It's Alpheas—we should've seen it coming. He wasn't just good at magic. We should've prepared earlier."
Sarof was full of regret. When Alpheas won the Gold Circle, he should have done something to mingle with the crowd and settle old scores. It had been only a month since the award, yet Alpheas's fame had already become dizzyingly high—thanks to his remarkable political skill. Now that Alpheas picked his company carefully, Sarof's chance to wedge himself in had only narrowed.
'Damn it. I tried not to bow my head and now I'm practically on my knees. Why does nothing go my way?'
There was no answer. The only consolation was that he had friends with him, which made the embarrassment a little more bearable.
"Let's go in. I'll do the talking."
Sarof went up and knocked on the gate.
"Is Alpheas home? It's Sarof."
To his surprise, Erina opened the door.
"Who are you?"
"Oh—madam's home. You might not remember me, but I'm Sarof, a classmate of Alpheas. Is he here?"
"No. My husband went out. He's at the Alchemy Foundation."
They knew a dinner was being held there, and since it wasn't a boozy affair it wouldn't take long. Thinking that was for the best, Sarof asked politely, "I see. If it's not too much trouble, may we come in and wait? There are a lot of people, and…."
It would be humiliating to loiter at the gate after having come this far and risk gossip.
"Yes, please come in."
Sarof and his friends sat anxiously in the parlor, rubbing their hands. Perhaps feeling sorry for them, Erina invited them to the dining table and served snacks and drinks.
"Have something to eat. Your husband will eat there and then come back."
"Thank you. You're very kind."
Growing more mortified, Sarof regretted not bringing a gift. He'd bought something just in case, but when it came time to present it, his pride stopped him.
It wasn't that he'd been outclassed by skill. Even if both families had cut ties with Alpheas and Erina, the name value of a first-rank mattered—Sarof was sure that had influenced people's judgment.
As he drank with those thoughts, the alcohol hit him quickly. He'd been tense at first, but once he felt Erina's intelligence up close, his guard loosened without his noticing.
"I'm telling you! I was called a genius once. I—me!"
"Who would deny it? Life's unfair! The ones who work hard get nothing, and someone with connections gets ahead! Magic's already dead!"
At his friend's words, one of Sarof's eyebrows shot up. The target of the jab was none other than Alpheas. But he let it go—after all, Erina probably didn't know what they were saying. The wine tasted sweeter all of a sudden. Maybe this was the first time he'd beaten Alpheas at something. To loudly criticize him in front of his wife felt like a victory.
"Ha, that bastard humiliated me so many times. This is nothing."
Sarof went further and spoke to Erina. "Right, ma'am? Magic isn't just about talent alone. You agree, don't you?"
"I don't know much about it."
"Hahaha! Of course you don't. But it's true. What I'm saying is the truth."
Sarof basked in his little triumph—criticizing Alpheas and mocking his wife. His friends pounded the table in agreement.
"Ma'am, since the mood's right, why don't you sing us a song?"
"Yes! Celebrate Alpheas's success—sing us a song."
Erina's smile stiffened. People assumed those with low intelligence knew nothing, but reading others' emotions always fell to the weaker party. Erina knew Sarof and his friends weren't sincere; she only kept up polite behavior because they were her husband's friends.
"When the grain in my hometown ripens…"
Erina began to sing. Sarof's group applauded and whistled. Despite her trembling voice, she kept going bravely.
But before she finished three lines, a cold voice came from the living room.
"What are you doing right now?"
Everyone turned. Alpheas stood there, face flushed, fists clenched. Sarof's drunken haze snapped away. As his senses returned he realized what they'd been doing.
"S-sorry. We must've had too much to drink."
"You bastard!"
Alpheas strode forward and threw a punch. Sarof took it square in the face and tumbled across the floor. His friends jumped up, shouting.
"Alpheas! What kind of rough behavior is this? No matter how angry you are—!"
"No, that's enough. Stop it."
Sarof raised his hands to restrain his friends. He was ashamed. Was that all he was? A loser who soothed himself by harassing a rival through his wife?
"Get out. Get out of this house before I kill you."
"Sorry about tonight. We won't come back."
Sarof and his friends were thrown out. Silence settled over the parlor. Alpheas couldn't contain his rising fury. He knew why they'd urged Erina to sing.
"What happened? Why did you let those bastards in here?"
Erina was too frightened to speak. It was the first time she'd seen her husband so furious.
"Tell me! Why did you let them in?"
"I'm sorry. They're your friends, and I thought you'd like it…"
"What are you saying? How are those scumbags my friends? Can't you tell real friends from trash? And you just sit there singing? Are you really that stupid?"
Alpheas twisted roughly. His face, bowed in shame, contorted with regret. Words that should never be spoken—and words he had vowed never to say—slipped out of his mouth.
"What a piece of trash. I'm not even a person."
He wanted to turn back time, but it was too late. Even if he could, he might have said the same thing. He couldn't hold down his fury.
"Forget what I just said. I was wrong."
"Honey, I'm sorry. I won't do it again."
Erina's apology cut him deeper. She wasn't the one who should be apologizing. But if not her, where was he supposed to vent this rage?
"I'm going to get some air. Time will help. Sorry. You sleep first tonight."
Alpheas left. It was the only rational way to handle things for now.
He went to the inn where Clump stayed and drank through the night. He couldn't get drunk. The more the alcohol climbed, the more Sarof erased himself from Alpheas's memory and the more the image of Erina's hurt remained.
"Damn it. I'm trash. I don't deserve to be a husband. She trusted me and followed me—and I said something like that."
Clump wore a sympathetic look. As a man he could understand Alpheas's anger, but he still thought a mistake had been made.
"They say married couples' fights are like cutting water with a knife. Your future's bright, the bad time's passed. Maybe this will bring you closer."
Alpheas was silent. Clump, who had been thinking it for a while, finally said it out loud.
"Why don't you try having a child?"
Alpheas's eyes flashed for a moment, then he shook his head gloomily.
Clump's eyes widened. "What, you mean to say you've never—?"
"What nonsense? We're married. No matter how young Erina is, she knows enough."
"Ha, who knows. Maybe you're the impotent one—skinny as you are, ha ha."
Alpheas, in no mood to laugh, stared at his glass and swallowed bitterly.
Clump sighed. "Okay then—what exactly is the problem? Just have a kid and live happily."
"I don't know if Erina can bear a child."
"Why? Is she sick?"
"No. It's like this: childbirth is excruciating—could Erina endure it? And then there's the whole matter of raising the child."
Clump thought it over and sighed. Ultimately it came down to whether a woman with the intelligence of a ten-year-old could withstand labor. Intelligence wields a great control over a person. There's a world of difference between suffering with awareness and suffering without understanding.
"Alpheas, I hate to say this, but you knew it from the start when you thought of marrying her…"
"Yes, I knew. I don't regret it. No, I truly don't regret it. I can't live without Erina. Without her, no glory would mean anything."
Clump downed two cups in a row. If he was frustrated, how much more must Alpheas be?
"So what are you going to do? This whining isn't like you. You're a smart man—why act like this?"
Alpheas swirled his cup and fell into thought. Then, at one moment, his eyes—fighting the drunkenness—flashed with sudden clarity.