BPOTWC Chapter 26

Having climbed the high northern wall, Clarisse looked around her with round, wide eyes.

Beneath the pitch-black sky, the lit-up houses below looked as pretty as stars.

"The houses look so tiny."

Forgetting entirely that she'd resolved to keep tight hold of the Duke's hand, Clarisse pushed her way through the crowd and dashed toward the stone railing, pointing at the distant scenery.

"Clarisse!"

The Duchess came rushing right up behind her and scolded her.

"We agreed you wouldn't do anything dangerous."

"Oh."

Only then did Clarisse remember the promise they'd made before climbing the stairs.

"...I'm sorry."

"What was it we promised?"

Clarisse answered, counting off on her fingers.

"No running on the wall, and staying away from the railing."

"Do you think you can remember, now?"

Clarisse nodded quickly.

"I promise. I won't get hurt, not ever."

"Good. Would you give me your hand, if that's all right?"

The Duchess offered her hand first, and Clarisse's heart gave a little leap.

'The Duchess must want to hold my hand.'

How curious. Clarisse, too, had just been wanting to hold the Duchess's hand tight.

"You know."

Clarisse gently clasped the Duchess's hand in hers.

"There's actually one more rule we have to follow."

"A rule?"

"Yes!"

Perhaps because a strong gust of wind happened to blow just then, the Duchess's grip on Clarisse's hand tightened a little more.

"If the wind blows like this, I might fly away. So I have to hold the Duke's hand tight."

Clarisse answered, glancing toward the Duchess's other, empty hand, and the Duchess laughed aloud, as though she found this quite amusing.

"Oh, I see. Because you might fly away?"

"Yes! But they said if you hold the Duke's hand, you'll never fly away—not ever."

"Heehee."

Brielle's cheerful laughter filled Clarisse with great expectation.

Perhaps now the Duchess would say, "Clarisse is right. It would be trouble if I flew off, so I'll hold His Grace's hand too."

Clarisse looked up at the Duchess, her amber eyes shining.

"Clarisse is right. It would be trouble if you flew away."

Her heart pounded.

Hearing exactly the words she'd expected, Clarisse's overeager lips had already broken into a wide smile.

"Clarisse, you make sure to hold the Duke's hand nice and tight."

And with that, the Duchess passed Clarisse's hand along to Maximilian, who was standing right beside her.

Clarisse was troubled by this, but the Duchess seemed thoroughly delighted, clapping her hands and saying, "The two of you suit each other so well."

Watching her, Clarisse forgot even the important promise she'd been determined to keep tonight, and a small, bashful laugh slipped out of her without her meaning it to.

'I think I understand why the maids look forward to the fireworks so much.'

Though Clarisse, who had always had to listen to the booming noise alone from her room, had never much cared for the day before.

But now things were different.

She had kind people beside her to share this night with.

"Clarisse, it might be better to wait over there. There'll be less wind."

"I asked them to bring some warm water. We could have her drink it over there."

The Duke and Duchess's voices, sounding somehow a bit excited themselves, of course.

"The fireworks come up from over there, understand? Don't miss a single moment. It's only once a year."

"How many minutes left now?"

"About thirty."

And the eager voices of the people who'd come to the specially opened section of the wall were pleasant to hear as well.

"Mama, Mama! I can see our house over there!"

Among them were children who looked to be about Clarisse's age, and every one of them was holding tight to a guardian's hand.

'I'm holding a hand too.'

Clarisse glanced up at the large hand holding hers.

Somehow her steps grew light and quick all on their own.

'What would it feel like, holding hands like this and watching the fireworks all together?'

Feeling suddenly impatient, Clarisse lifted her head.

She wished the new year would come quickly.

It was about five minutes before the new year when Clarisse, having asked "How many minutes left?" some twenty times, began to nod off.

By now Clarisse had leaned her whole body against the Duke's leg, and had settled in earnest to sleep.

Brielle stroked Clarisse's cheek, trying every which way to wake her, but her breathing only deepened all the more.

"What should we do, I suppose it really was too much to stay awake this late. I should have had her take a nap..."

She reached out her arms to lift the child. Left standing as she was, Clarisse might well topple onto the cold floor.

"Leave her."

But Maximilian was a touch quicker, lifting the child up high with one arm.

Clarisse went limp, her head resting against his shoulder.

"That must be difficult for you."

She said, standing up and speaking with some concern, but he shook his head.

"She is still light. The question of whether her rations ought to be increased troubles me still."

"I've heard she's eating plenty. I imagine she'll fill out and grow taller as time goes on."

"Mm..."

"In any case, give her here. I'll take her to her room. You have to stand watch here, don't you?"

"There isn't much time left."

"Sorry?"

"The fireworks, I mean. Didn't you say you were looking forward to them?"

"Ah..."

"Over there. It should begin any moment now."

Brielle stood beside him, looking up at the sky, still empty, in the direction he was facing.

'Well, I did say I was looking forward to the fireworks... but really...'

She glanced sidelong at the man beside her.

He remained utterly still, one arm holding Clarisse, gazing only up at the sky.

He must want to appear dignified as a duke before so many people, and yet here he was, offering his arms for the comfort of a mere prisoner child. It struck her as strange.

She used to think him a bit frightening, once...

Somehow, ever since Clarisse's arrival, it felt as though the very air around them had changed.

Brielle smiled faintly.

"Your Grace is truly so dear—...kind. I mean, kind."

Then, without meaning to, her true feeling slipped out in a small voice.

"...Ah."

Realizing her blunder, she let out a short, strangled sound and clamped her mouth shut.

And hoped.

Hoped that the noise of the crowd around them had swallowed her words before he could hear.

"...."

Fortunately, no answer came back from Maximilian.

Brielle turned only her eyes to study his expression.

Checking, just in case, whether he had heard.

Thankfully, there was no change at all in his face. He simply went on gazing up at the sky, still holding Clarisse.

'That's a relief.'

Of course, there was no reason Maximilian would pay such close attention to every small murmur of hers.

She wasn't his real wife to begin with, anyway.

Just then, with a great boom, the first firework shot swiftly up into the sky, scattering white smoke, and bloomed into a great burst of crimson flame.

At the same moment, the crowd's cheering rose up, and firework after firework followed, splitting the pitch-black sky and spreading far and wide as flecks of colored powder.

"...."

Setting aside all thought of Maximilian for a moment, Brielle simply stared up at this, blank.

'Pretty.'

Had she known it would be like this, she wouldn't have refused Maximilian's invitation to come see them, all that time ago.

Though it couldn't be helped, she supposed—terrified that they'd find out she was a fake, she'd turned down every single outing with him.

'Really, I ought to have refused this time too...'

But now that she'd realized she'd come to love him, she couldn't bring herself to turn down his invitation to watch the fireworks together.

Somehow it seemed as though she would regret it if she refused this time as well.

'It's all right... to keep just a little memory, isn't it.'

Once before, Maximilian had told her that he would set her free someday.

Which meant, in effect, it was already settled that they would not go on living together forever.

'Just a little—I should make just a little good memory.'

If she didn't, wouldn't this feeling she'd only just come to recognize be a pitiable thing?

'If His Grace knew I was thinking this way...'

Brielle glanced quietly back at him.

"Ah."

But somehow their eyes met at once.

This made it seem, just for a moment, as though he had been looking at her.

Of course, that couldn't possibly be true.

"...I—it's pretty, isn't it."

Brielle hurried to offer the words that came to her.

"Sorry?"

But he seemed not to have quite caught it over the fireworks bursting one after another.

"I mean..."

Without quite meaning to, Brielle took a step closer to him.

But she shouldn't have.

Bold as anything, closing the gap without thinking—and then, just like that, the backs of their hands gave a small, definite bump.

The hand, that is, not occupied with holding Clarisse.

Even with both of them wearing thick winter gloves, the accidental contact sent a rush of tension right down to her fingertips.

'Wh-what do I do?'

Should she apologize? No, but it really had only just brushed for a moment...

'Or should I move my hand somewhere else?'

But that would be as good as announcing, plainly, that she was very much bothered by this small contact with him.

And then, as another firework burst overhead, their hands brushed again.

Was it an accident this time—or some leaked-out, helpless longing?

What was more, this time, neither of them moved at all, their hands left touching in that clumsy way.

Though neither did they take hold, exactly.

'Could it be His Grace... doesn't notice?'

Brielle tried thinking this, but it didn't seem likely.

'...How embarrassing.'

Even thinking so, Brielle couldn't bring herself to pull her touching hand away.

At the same time, the sound of fireworks bursting seemed to grow louder still.

It was only a moment later that she realized it was, in fact, her own heart, pounding painfully hard.

Another red flower bloomed in the sky above.

The barely touching backs of their hands drew a little closer still.