IYTTEPAAK Chapter 20

"N—Noah, Your Highness. I greet the Silver Bird Princess."

His voice was strung tight with nerves. I acknowledged the greeting with a small nod and let him and Regen become acquainted.

"Regen, Sir Noah."

"Yes. A pleasure, Sir Regen."

I'd worried, hearing that Sister Orlette's knight had done nothing but cry in his room at the lodgings for some time, that he might be a weak one—but needless worry.

For all his mild appearance, I could feel a fairly strong mana radiating from him.

It was something else that needed worrying about.

"Your Highness, I think the nobles over there keep glaring at me. It's frightening."

"Stay close to my side."

"Yes, Your Highness."

That knight—playing coy in front of Sister Lete, of all people.

"Oho!"

A wave of exclamations rose up together from the middle of the hall just then. Something had drawn a crowd.

One personal knight was performing a trick, rolling a wine glass across his hand like a juggler's ball.

Each time his fingers moved as though tapping piano keys, the glass rolled across the back of his hand as if it were a ball, or spun on its stem, pivoting between his fingers. Not a single drop of its contents spilled.

The one showing off the trick was a personal knight with sky-blue hair cut to mid-length.

In contrast to the dynamic display his hands were putting on, the knight's face stayed as expressionless as a doll's.

Glancing beside him, I found a gorgeous beauty with lemon-blond hair rolled up like a bread roll, clapping.

Lilliana.

"That knight's name was Julis, I believe. Quite a delicate sense of touch, that one."

At Sister Orlette's remark, Noah leapt to make his own claim.

"I could do something like that too, Your Highness."

"Could you? Wonderful."

"Shall I do it now? I'll even juggle, to make it flashier."

I could feel it—the sheer will to steal the spotlight back. It made me doubt the sincerity of his having clung to Sister Orlette earlier, claiming the stares frightened him.

"Enough—please. You're no circus performer."

Sister Orlette, sadly, didn't seem able to recognize the coyness of an omnivore playing at being a herbivore. She only waved a hand, declaring she'd never make him do anything so dangerous.

Once the trick ended, the nobles crowded in around Julis and his mistress Lilliana without exception, eager to strike up conversation.

"Sir Julis's hand skill is remarkable!"

"Oh, this is nothing. Our Sir Julis's swordsmanship is far more impressive still. I'd love to show you, but one can't very well wear a sword to a banquet, so a wine glass will have to do for a taste of it."

"Thanks to you we've had quite the show, Your Highness. Congratulations on taking such a splendid knight."

"Well, my eye for these things—this much is only natural."

"Does he have any other tricks?"

"Naturally. Sir Julis knows how to keep people entertained. Since I took him as my knight, I haven't had a dull moment."

"Oh my! Show us, Sir Julis!"

"Sir Julis answers only to my command."

Lilliana intercepted every word directed at Julis and turned all the attention onto herself. The hall's center of gravity had shifted entirely to her.

Sister Orlette bristled at the sight of a knight being treated like a court jester.

"With the Golden Deer nowhere in sight, of course Lily gets to strut around. Where is Nanaën off to, letting me watch this."

"Why not. Watching Sister Lily is never dull—there's no one funnier."

"Are you serious?"

"Just watch."

Before long Julis had been pushed entirely to the side, and Lilliana alone held the nobles' attention.

True to a self-centered power-holder, Lilliana filled the greater part of the conversation with nothing but her own voice and her own stories.

"I've been seeing the young duke regularly these days."

"The earl? Always so attentive to me. Sometimes a touch overwhelming in his kindness, though."

"Ah, this necklace? A gift from the marquess, if you can believe it."

To hear her tell it, every man in the world was in love with Lilliana. I supplied Sister Orlette with the truth.

"Once every half a year could technically be called 'regular,' I suppose—though we'd have to hear the young duke's side too. As for the earl—his own younger sister serves as one of Sister Lily's ladies-in-waiting, so of course he's kind to the whole household. And the necklace she says she got from the marquess is the best part of all—no gift about it—she bought it, then received it. From herself."

"She embroiders it that shamelessly?"

"Which is exactly why she only ever gossips about people who aren't in the room."

"Well, well."

Lilliana's eyes flicked briefly in our direction. The instant she seemed to catch my gaze, she lifted her left hand high and spoke as though meaning to be overheard.

"Just look at this ring to see how much His Majesty adores me. This ruby is twice the size of the one Rosasia was given, once upon a time!"

Sister Orlette swallowed a laugh down her throat.

"There's genuinely something entertaining about watching her."

"I've lost my taste for it, personally."

It was such shameless, cheap one-upmanship that anyone listening couldn't help but cringe on her behalf.

Regen asked me about Lilliana.

"The Princess of Dusk-and-Dawn seems to regard you as a rival, Your Highness. Why is that?"

"My chamber ranks third-finest among the outer palaces, and Sister Lily's ranks fourth."

The relative standing of a princess's chambers served to display her standing at court. Sister Orlette cut in just then, grinning mischievously.

"It's not simply a rivalry between third and fourth place, though. There's a more important reason—why not tell him that part?"

At the coy remark, Regen turned to look at me, waiting for an answer.

Perhaps meaning to show rather than tell, right on cue Lilliana's clear voice rang out across the hall.

"What? Good heavens! Is there still someone out there who believes that nonsense about Sir Domynick turning me down? That is absolutely not true. I promise you, if this banquet weren't specifically for introducing our personal knights, Sir Domynick would have been the one escorting me tonight. Oh, not that I have any complaint with Sir Julis—he's more than qualified to stand at my side."

"How obliging of her, saying it outright."

Sister Orlette no longer even bothered trying to hold back her laughter. Her giggling rang out quite prettily on the ear.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening, sister Lete."

"Where are you off to? It's just getting good."

"I've grown tired. I think I'll rest a while."

Mixing in enough conversation with the nobles who kept approaching took a good while even just to make it out of the hall.

When I'd finally reached a quiet corridor, someone was already waiting for us.

"My greetings to the Silver Bird Princess. I am Killian."

The greeting was courteous, but the defiance in his voice and expression went hidden from no one.

The young man before me, still holding onto a boyish edge, wore the same black uniform as Regen.

Which meant he belonged to someone as a personal knight—and seeing his blazing red hair, I could guess at once who his mistress was.

More than anything else, though, his golden eyes were remarkably striking. If Regen's were a bright gold reminiscent of a sunrise, Killian's carried more of an orange tint, calling to mind the eyes of some predatory beast. It didn't strike me as a particularly good match for a deer.

Reminded of it, I turned my head to look once more at Regen's eyes.

Regen?

Only for an instant, but his eyes had widened, then narrowed, at the sight of Killian. There was no mistaking it—that was the reaction of someone encountering an unexpected face and being startled by it.

Killian, for his part, seemed to be pretending not to notice Regen's gaze at all. Regen's presence clearly displeased him, but I could see the effort in how he held his temper down, determined to avoid a clash in front of me.

Whatever the relationship between the two of them, this much is certain—he knows who Regen truly is.

The list of people requiring careful watching kept growing longer.

I supposed I'd have to play my part in their little theater—two men pretending not to know each other. To bring the uncomfortable standoff to a close, I stepped forward.

"It seems your mistress is looking for me. Lead the way."

"Yes, Your Highness."

The place he guided us to was the third-floor balcony of the hall. Built like a private box in an opera house, it offered a full view down over the banquet and a place to rest at ease.

Parting the velvet curtain and stepping through, I found—just as expected—Nanaën waiting for me.

Her honey-gold hair spilled down in an elaborate cascade, decorated with every manner of flower-shaped jewel, and she was beautiful. Paired with eyes the pale green of a young apple, she looked for all the world like some fresh, verdant forest spirit.

I said, admiring the sight.

"You've grown a whole garden on your head."

"I was going for antlers."

Rather than say what she'd left unspoken—that only stags grow antlers so lavish—I said something else instead.

"Very pretty. It suits you."