MB Chapter 25

The sounds of the tea party dimmed to a cold stillness. Taking one more sip of her tea, Goiyo let her gaze drift across the pale faces arrayed before her.

These were the guests who had not yet managed to exchange a single word of greeting, having been claimed by Lanthe's welcome the moment they arrived.

"...Pardon?"

"This is hardly a light joke—it verges on defamatory gossip. There is no reason not to inform the person in question. Beyond defamation, this constitutes sexual harassment, and depending on his wishes, you may wish to brace yourselves for a lawsuit."

"My Lady!"

Had she felt that becoming a marchioness when she had been destined for a duchess amounted somehow to a fall in rank? Lanthe Prityl, who even in mockery knew how to keep within bounds, had gone rather far today.

Whether it was because Goiyo had never once raised her voice, or because she had concluded that with Rubiette wholly committed to the aristocratic faction there was no longer any need for caution.

Or perhaps—as was the custom of the conservative nobility—she had come intending to mock the marquess couple at once, out of contempt for a Bethelgius known to be of common birth.

The full depth of Entzi Bethelgius's capabilities had not yet been revealed, even if his standing within the aristocratic faction continued to rise.

Even so, Emily and Bella flinched, apparently not having anticipated such a response. Lanthe Prityl, however, only arched her eyebrows and leveled a glare at Goiyo.

"It's a rumor, simply a rumor. Isn't it perfectly common for this sort of jest to circulate about a man who has never so much as kissed a woman? Speaking of sexual harassment over mere gossip is equally absurd."

"How unfortunate. Because the woman who knows he is not homosexual happens to be sitting right here. Why didn't you ask me first, rather than these young ladies? Whether he has ever kissed anyone—in the 'frank' manner you so prefer, my lady."

Speaking in that unhurried voice of hers, Goiyo held Lanthe's gaze without flinching.

"You ought to have kept the mockery within measure. The reason I have let things pass until now is that your words, though cutting close to the line, have never crossed it. But today you seem to be in rather high spirits—given that even your usually practiced restraint has deserted you."

Goiyo rose from her seat. She had barely swallowed two sips of tea—she was not one to go anywhere out of mere tedium.

"I'll take my leave. It seems there is no one here who would wish to entertain me any further."

"...Very well, say it then. Do you imagine the great Prityl Marquisate would hold its tongue out of fear of a single nobleman of common birth?"

"I do hope your father the Marquess shares that sentiment."

The face that had maintained even a formal smile fell away, and Lanthe Prityl stared at Goiyo with the directness of someone who had abandoned all pretense.

In that same moment, Emily—who had been keeping herself carefully at a safe remove—felt her expression twist. For one brief instant she was ashamed even of her own hesitation.

Pitying Lanthe, who had no choice but to stay silent on account of her family, Emily opened her mouth in her place.

"My Lady may want to restrain her devotion to her husband somewhat. Trusting your husband is all well and good, but I do wonder whether the Marquess himself would dare to file a lawsuit and make an enemy of Prityl."

"Miss Renier, that's enough—"

"Oh, now that I think of it, you're leaving something behind. Miss Bermus prepared it personally, didn't she?"

Before Goiyo could respond, Emily swung her arm in a wide arc—teacup in hand. Lanthe reached out to stop her, but too late; the contents had already been thrown.

"Emily!"

"She made that tea for you—you should take it with you!"

Seeing the tea flying toward her face, Goiyo gave a slight frown. She braced herself for the wet sensation about to reach her—but the red liquid found a different face.

"Kyaah!"

The tea thrown toward Goiyo soaked Lanthe's face instead.

Watching the carefully arranged hair grow wet and the makeup wash away, Goiyo blinked—and in her field of vision caught a glimpse of a small whale swishing its tail.

The whale vanished almost immediately, but of course she knew exactly what it was.

'Can it appear even without being called by name?' she thought fleetingly, and then Goiyo met the eyes of the young lady whose expression had gone pale with shock.

It seemed so.

"It appears the tea was not meant for me after all."

"Lanthe!"

"Miss Prityl!"

Crying out belatedly, Emily and Bella rushed to Lanthe's side. Emily, who had swung the teacup, looked on the verge of fainting from the shock of where the tea had actually gone.

"Lan, Lanthe... I was definitely not throwing it at you!"

Emily offered excuses and held out a handkerchief, which Lanthe slapped away without mercy. Still drenched in the red tea, Lanthe fixed her gaze on Goiyo as though she meant to devour her.

"It seems Marquess Bethelgius holds Rubiette in quite high regard. To think he would give you an artifact to carry even to a tea party."

Lanthe appeared to have concluded that the deflection of the tea was the work of an artifact.

The young ladies who had been watching the scene began murmuring among themselves as though convinced. There was no particular reason to reveal the existence of a spirit, and so Goiyo simply listened in silence.

"I, Lanthe Prityl, will remember this clearly."

"It would be well to remember also that it was Miss Renier who threw the tea."

Ignoring Goiyo's words, Lanthe swept out of the tea party venue.

Emily and Bella, who had been stamping their feet in dismay, each shot a glare at Goiyo before disappearing after her.

None of the three offered farewell to Elly Bermus, the hostess—but Elly seemed satisfied by their departure alone.

She had been robbed of her moment, but Goiyo no longer wished to remain either. She offered Elly a brief farewell and followed the guiding maidservant out of the Bermus Viscount residence.

By the main gate, the Bethelgius carriage that had brought her waited.

Even at a considerable distance, its luxurious gleam reached her eyes in full. 'How foolish of me to have imagined he might send an ordinary carriage.'

She swallowed a sigh and had just begun to make her way toward the carriage when an urgent cry reached her.

"Lady Bethelgius!"

She turned at the sound of her name—and her two hands were seized. At the unexpected contact, Goiyo's shoulders jolted.

"You just—!"

In the very moment she tried to make out who had grabbed her hands, two figures in black appeared and leveled their swords at the person before her.

Her two hands were instantly released, but Goiyo found she needed to be more startled by the two black-clad forms than she had been by the grab itself.

"Are you all right, My Lady?"

"Ah... I'm fine. And you two?"

"We apologize for this manner of introduction. We have been assigned to temporarily guard My Lady on the Marquess's orders. He anticipated My Lady's discomfort and instructed us not to make ourselves known. We humbly beg pardon for having maintained that silence."

"That's all right. The suddenness startled me, but it is only natural that guards be assigned. Please lower your swords, however."

At Goiyo's words, the two sheathed their blades—though they did not vanish discreetly as they had before. They positioned themselves behind Goiyo, openly keeping watch on the person before them.

That was somewhat distracting, but it allowed Goiyo to properly take in the newcomer's appearance for the first time.

Long black hair. A height and slenderness that was almost startling. Features as clean and striking as the figure's physique—handsome, but in a manner that made it genuinely difficult to say whether this person was a woman or a man. Come to think of it, even the tone of the voice when they had called out was indeterminate enough to defy easy categorization.

They appeared to be a knight, dressed in uniform, with the sword at their hip half-drawn—as though they had attempted to respond but been too slow by comparison.

The person, who had seemed taken aback, soon sheathed the exposed blade.

'Come to think of it, this was someone who had been in the corner of the tea party.'

It had been only a fleeting glance—but among the remaining guests who had been stealing looks at the exchange between Lanthe and Goiyo, there had seemed to be a dark-haired guest in a knight's uniform.

A uniform at a tea party was unusual enough to stick in the memory. Since the invitation had specified women only, if this person was a guest, they must be female.

The faint unease she'd felt eased.

"I apologize, My Lady. I was too carried away and committed a rudeness. As a knight, touching My Lady's person without permission—I humbly beg your forgiveness. My name is Razine Eliom. As many people tend to be confused, I will say so in advance: I am a woman."

"...I'm Goiyo Bethelgius. I was startled, but I'm quite all right. And what was it you wished to say to me?"

"That is... it was about what happened earlier. I've never witnessed magic before, and I was rather carried away. I've been interested in magic since I was young, but opportunities to see it in the middle of the capital are so rare—unless one enters the Ministry of Magic."

"Magic?"

'I thought she was mistaking it for an artifact...'

"Was it not? I could tell it wasn't an artifact—there was no distinctive magical signature."

"In the broadest sense, it is magic, yes. I hadn't expected anyone to notice."

"So it was magic!"

Color flooded Razine's face.

"I've already committed one rudeness, and I'm sorry to ask even more of you—but if it wouldn't be an imposition, might we speak a little longer?"

"I'm afraid the mansion's carriage is waiting. I wouldn't like to keep people waiting any longer in this cold."

"Of course."

The slightly upturned corners of her eyes dropped. The elation had been so visible that her disappointment seemed all the more extreme.

Magic was rare enough to see—but was it really worth such despair?

Goiyo, whose daily life had been thoroughly filled with magic thanks to a husband fond of squandering it freely, found this somewhat difficult to understand.

She glanced at the sun hanging in the middle of the sky. She had left the tea party before it had properly begun, so time—she had more than enough of it.

Even if she returned to the mansion there was nothing to do, so a moment here could hardly hurt.

'She's also a woman.'

"If you would like to accompany me to the mansion, I don't suppose there's any particular reason why not."

'Is bringing a guest home perhaps not something one ought to do?'

Goiyo thought this upon returning to the mansion, catching the barely perceptible stiffening in the household staff at the sight of Razine.

But Lukurue, with his sharp eye, said "Welcome home, My Lady—and to the young lady who has accompanied you, as well," and at those words the staff's expressions dissolved like sunlight through cloud.

'Ah. They had taken her for a man.' The Marchioness of Bethelgius, not yet a full month wed, understood and gave a small nod.

"Thank you for the welcome. I would prefer 'Dame' to 'Miss,' if you don't mind. I'm Razine Eliom."

"My apologies, Dame Eliom. I am Lukurue, the head butler of this household."

After a brief exchange of greetings, Lukurue personally guided Goiyo and Razine to the drawing room. The accomplished butler showed not a trace of curiosity about why Her Ladyship had returned so soon.

Through a maidservant he delivered two cups of coffee and green tea cookies, then Lukurue and the maids withdrew from the drawing room.

Whether the secret guard from earlier had also vanished—that she couldn't say. Goiyo thought this in passing, and Razine was the first to speak.

"A perceptive butler. Good instincts as well."

"You noticed, then. I'm sorry about that."

"Not at all. I am perfectly aware that I appear to be a man. It's regrettable that even growing my hair long hasn't helped much."

Ah. Goiyo turned over what to say, and in the end simply drank her coffee.

"Um—I know this is rather forward, but was the magic from earlier indeed My Lady's doing?"

"Yes. Strictly speaking, it's a spirit."

"A spirit?"