"HAHAHAHAHA!"
The blonde froze, fiddling with his fingers in confusion.
Wait.
Wait just one moment.
Was the Marquise... laughing?
Oliver Astrea Mylor—who had just poured out his heart and soul in the most pitiful, dramatic disparagement of working culture ever delivered by a trembling cadet—was utterly at a loss.
Was she actually laughing at him?
His mouth opened. He tried to say something, anything, to explain himself further, only to be silenced when the Marquise leaned back in her seat, eyes glinting with something he could not quite read, and said a single word.
"Good."
"...Good?" Ollie squeaked, his eyes widening as if reality had just betrayed him. "Good???"
Surely he had misheard. Surely this was one of those hallucinations people suffer due to hunger or constipation.
But Marquise Evelyn only tilted her head slightly, as if she had expected such a reaction. She lifted a hand and patted the chair next to her.
"Come, sit here," she said with a smile. "We can talk better this way. Besides, if you stay on the floor, I’ll be too tempted to keep patting your head."
Ollie blinked, his body stiff as he scrambled upright and sat down gingerly in the offered seat, antenna flopping in shame. His back was straight, but his eyes darted nervously as though he might be scolded at any second.
The Marquise smiled faintly before continuing. "I am well aware of what people say about House Nox. That we are the home of the Empire’s best aides, advisors, and ministers. More importantly, the most workaholic family in Solaris, second only to the Imperial family."
"..."
Ollie swallowed. That sounded about right.
"They call us competent. Loyal. Diligent." Evelyn’s voice softened. "But what most people do not know is how rigid the people of House Nox are. If anyone were to perform an autopsy on someone from House Nox, I swear they would likely find the word ’work’ engraved into our veins."
Ollie choked on air. She sounded so serious that he actually believed it.
"It is the oddest thing," she went on, almost wistfully. "None of us actually enjoys working all the time. But if my husband or my sons were actually given long stretches of true rest, they would go mad. To them, structure is life. Work provides that structure. When things collapse, when everything falls apart, we Noxes do not crumble. We search for new tasks, new duties, new responsibilities. Provided there is work, there is a path forward, however unclear."
The young cadet gawked at her, his lips parting. That... actually explained a lot.
His mind instantly conjured the image of Kyle, grumbling and complaining about paperwork or duties, yet still doing them without pause.
Especially before they were together, Kyle had practically lived at his desk. If no one came looking, they would have found him asleep on top of his reports, tablet still clutched in hand.
"!"
Marquise Evelyn’s smile deepened at the sight of the realization dawning on the boy’s face.
"You thought of something, didn’t you?" she asked knowingly.
Ollie’s face flushed red. He fumbled with his hands. "B-but My Lady... if that’s the case, then why would it be good that I-I don’t exactly like work? Wouldn’t that be... wouldn’t that be a disgrace to House Nox?"
"..."
The silence that followed made his heart pound.
"Ah, Oliver... you see, there could only be a disgrace to House Nox if House Nox is still standing. What could be disgraced when there’s no remaining member?"
The words fell so casually from Marquise Evelyn’s lips that Ollie’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
"My Lady! What do you mean?!" he squeaked, his whole body jerking upright in alarm.
She only tilted her head at him, serene as ever. "I think you can tell by how hard they work, right?"
"..."
Ollie’s mouth flapped.
"Do you really think it would be possible for a family line to continue if everyone had tunnel vision for work?"
The blonde’s eyes fluttered as he stared at her smiling face. It was relaxed, too relaxed, especially given the fact that her husband was still recovering beside her. How could she say such terrifying things while looking that calm?
"Do you think patriarchs with the same personality would even remember to arrange marriages for their adult children in the face of mountains of work?" she asked lightly. "Moreover, with evaders like Killian, would it even be possible to get anyone married off when everyone already knows they’re married to their work?"
Ollie blinked.
Oh.
"OH!"
Yeah. Ollie thought so, too. He could even remember how Lyka reacted when she heard that all her hard work was for nothing because she’d worked so hard to be the best fit for Kyle.
Ehem.
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