MB Chapter 20

"Welcome, Lord Alte. How lovely to see you after so long!"

Melishi greeted Therio Alte with a brilliant smile. The dark navy satin dress covering her neck and wrists entirely was, for her, considerably more subdued than what she usually wore.

It was exactly the kind of dress Therio preferred—though he only thought, in passing: Doesn’t suit her as well as Goiyo.

Therio Alte smiled with his usual ease. Even so, his somewhat stiff expression was not one that looked genuinely pleased.

"It has been a while, Melishi."

"I understand you've been busy lately, but you came! Oh—is today also... because of Sister Goiyo?"

"No. Someone who said she’d make herself unhappy—and married within a month. I’m done with her."

You're obviously very concerned. Melishi wanted to say it, but kept her mouth shut. Therio Alte did not like being contradicted.

"Anyway, I came today because there's something I need to say."

"Yes, Lord Alte. What is it?"

"I'd like to put off the engagement a little. My mind is unsettled, and my training has been going rather well lately."

"Oh..."

The expression on Melishi's face dimmed. She composed a smile and nodded.

"I...see. There's no particular hurry."

"Right, Melishi. I'm sorry to have come only to say this, but I have to be going."

"Mother said she'd be down shortly. Won't you stay and greet her first?"

"Lady Kazehl? I'm sorry—I won't wait. She’s rather a lot."

“I’ll be going, then”—and he kissed her cheek. Melishi smiled shyly, turning her face toward his in return.

The moment his eyes could no longer reach her, that shy smile twisted.

'Trash I wouldn’t even glance at if he weren’t an Alte.'

The instant her lips met his cheek, the sitting room door opened quietly.

Their eyes met—Melishi’s and her mother’s. Melishi’s rounded eyes went wide with shock.

She pulled her face back from his cheek and fought, desperately, to look composed.

Fortunately, Therio seemed not to have noticed anything wrong in his fiancée. He had just turned to leave when Lady Kazehl, now fully inside the room, offered her greeting.

“It has been a while, Lord Alte. This is the first time since your return from Avalanche.”

“Ah, Lady Kazehl. It has been a while.”

Therio gave a brief nod. And immediately:

“I’m sorry to greet you and go in the same breath, but I find I have a matter to attend to today as well.”

“You must be off, then. Please don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you. I’ll take my leave. Be well until we meet again.”

“You as well.”

Therio met Melishi’s eyes in a brief farewell glance, then his hand closed on the doorknob.

Lady Kazehl watched his unhurried departing steps as though seeing a guest off, until they were gone—then turned.

Wearing a warm smile, she reached up to cup Melishi’s cheek.

“Melishi. I think we have something to discuss. Will you come to my room?”

“...Yes, Mother.”

Looks like I can’t wear anything that shows skin tomorrow either, she thought, and followed her mother out of the sitting room.

Goiyo woke in the morning, washed her face, and came out of the bedroom.

She had only been in the Marquess's estate for two days, and it did not feel familiar yet—but the attention the maids gave was so thorough that she thought she'd settle in quickly enough.

Coming out of the bedroom, Goiyo saw a familiar figure smiling toward her.

"My lady, was the trip pleasant?"

"Not bad, Annie. Have you been keeping well?"

"Of course. The new training was a little frightening, but everyone was kind, so it went smoothly."

"I didn't think you'd come, anyway—thank you."

“Do they pay well at the Marquess’s?”

“Yes, twice as—rather.”

It's because I missed my lady, Annie said with a perfectly composed smile, and Goiyo smiled too, small and quiet.

Living in Bethelgius's estate does seem to rub off whether one wants it to or not.

"My lady, the master has asked me to enquire whether breakfast in the garden might suit—he suggests it."

"In the garden? But to eat there..."

"He says something light, sandwiches perhaps, for a morning meal. And if it doesn't suit you, he said the table could be brought here instead—by magic, a portal of some kind."

Goiyo thought of what had happened in the early hours of the morning. Much of it had grown hazy, but it had been vivid when she'd woken—the nightmare.

Her own words, in defiance of dream-Therio: I'd like to try liking roses.

He was asking about breakfast in the rose garden because of that, then.

It felt a little burdensome. But the care was kind. Goiyo hesitated, then nodded.

She barely ate much at breakfast anyway—little more than a few bites. If the scent bothered her, she simply wouldn't eat; that was all.

She didn't want to spoil his consideration.

Having steeled herself for an overwhelming scent, Goiyo stepped into the garden and stopped, tilting her head.

"Welcome, Goiyo."

"There's no smell."

"I cast a scentless enchantment in case it would be a bother."

"Is that possible?"

"If you're asking me what's possible, you'd be better off asking what isn't."

"It seems being modest isn't on that list."

"A sharp analysis."

A small table and a sun canopy had been installed in the garden that she hadn't seen the day before.

Not large, but more than sufficient for two people to sit and have a simple meal.

Taking the seat Entzi pulled out for her, Goiyo accepted the sandwich he passed across.

'...Is this actually a sandwich?'

She had taken it without much thought, but once she had it in hand the shape was wrong. No matter how she looked at it, it seemed less like food and more like an art object. How could a sandwich be made this ornate?

"This sandwich has a strange shape."

"My lady, that isn't strange—it's beautiful."

"Did you make it yourself?"

"Yes. I tried to make it as extravagant as possible."

Well? Entzi tilted back in his chair with perfect ease, leg crossed, coffee cup lifted. The picture of urbane composure.

And yet to Goiyo's eye, something about the sophisticated gentleman looked exactly like a dog waiting to be praised.

I'm getting too familiar with him far too fast, she thought, dispersing the rude impression quickly, and opened her mouth.

"It's... quite skilled work. But does a sandwich really need to be this elaborate?"

"Didn't you say so yesterday, Goiyo? That you'd like to try liking extravagant things. I'm making an effort."

"Ah. An effort."

Searching for a more refined compliment, Goiyo put her mind to it in earnest, and finally admitted to herself that she had no gift for literary speech.

"Anyway, thank you. Hmm, effort... it's pretty."

"Thank you."

She bit into a mouthful of the sandwich that she had felt would be a crime to eat.

Her eyes went wide. The taste was better than she'd expected—noticeably so.

She had assumed that because Entzi had made it, it would only look elaborate while being a little amateurish—but it was not, to any great degree, worse than what a professional chef might produce.

Though perhaps that was simply because it was a sandwich.

"It's... good."

"Is it really?"

"Yes. Entzi, you cook well too."

"Thank you. Though all I actually did was take what Tuverang made and cut and arrange it."

No wonder there was no difference. Goiyo said with a cold expression.

"You're skilled at deceiving people, too."

"I am a capable person."

She ate the sandwich, the appeal of which had evaporated instantly, and looked at the roses. Her impression from yesterday was more or less unchanged.

Even to an untrained eye they were artistic and beautiful, but that was a formal kind of admiration—she still found them a little much.

She had said it half-asleep, but would a day really come when she liked roses?

Perhaps a single bloom or two, but a rose garden of that size—would that day actually arrive?

"You said you did all of this with magic?"

"Yes, so it didn't take as long as it might have."

"How long did it take?"

"About... thirty-seven days of work, I think."

Whether that was long or short, she had no sense of it; she had no expertise in landscaping.

Setting down what he'd been eating, Entzi tapped the center of the table with one finger. When Goiyo's eyes came to him, he met her gaze and smiled.

"Have you had a chance to think about learning?"

"Oh? Are you speaking of magic?"

Hadn't she only mentioned it yesterday? He wore a relaxed smile, but spoke with the urgency of a horse under the whip.

Pushing her plate back slightly, Entzi propped his chin on his hand across the table.

“A day is twenty-four hours, one thousand four hundred and forty minutes, eighty-six thousand four hundred seconds.”

“A thirtieth of a month. A three-hundred-and-sixty-fifth of a year. A thirty-six-thousand-five-hundredth of a century.”

"You're quick at arithmetic."

"It's general knowledge."

She'd have to still be completing her home tutoring, at her age, if she couldn't work out figures like that.

Magic... she had been too worn out, too tired in her mind, to think about it since Entzi's suggestion. Only a day had passed, after all.

But for Goiyo—and this was unusual—she was not indifferent to the idea.

She didn't know what use magic could be to someone with a death date already set—but the one who had set that death date was Entzi Bethelgius.

If he was offering to teach her as a small diversion, she would like to learn.

Wasn’t it okay to do at least one thing she wanted, before dying. Wasn’t that much selfishness okay.

In a small voice, Goiyo asked.

"Could I really do it?"

"Of course."

The hesitant question was met with an immediate answer. Before the question mark had even landed.

"It might sound vague—but I'm not confident. I've never been particularly gifted at anything."

"Ordinary is fine, isn't it? Try it once, and if it's truly too difficult there are other things to try."

"Other things...?"

"Sword, archery, that sort of thing. Or painting, or riding—the things one can learn in this world are quite numerous, aren't they. Money would be necessary, but fortunately I happen to have a great deal of it."

Painting she had done as part of her education, but everything else on the list was something she had never once considered.

Of course she had never reached for any of it with longing—and yet something in Goiyo felt, just slightly, the pull of wanting.

Noticing, Entzi's voice went gentle, nudging her.

"If you're interested, try it. If you try it and don't like it, we'll talk then."

"...All right."

Goiyo Bethelgius nodded, slowly. As if he'd been waiting for exactly that, Entzi straightened, releasing the arm he'd been leaning on.

"Shall we try it now, then?"

"Just a moment...! Right now?"

"Is there something on your schedule?"

Not particularly—but in the first place, it was Entzi who set the schedule, which meant that the person who knew best there was nothing on it was Entzi Bethelgius.

His fox’s smile met her. Goiyo let out a thin sigh. Resignation.

"What do I need to do?"