His stiffness soon loosened. Along with Rosaline’s humming, Ricardis also began to move slowly, and goodness…
‘What’s this…?’
She seemed like someone born to dance. She danced so well, almost perfect, that it sent shivers down his spine. Ricardis wanted to see her dancing in the moonlight just a step away. As he stood there momentarily lost in thought, he accidentally stepped on her foot.
Rosaline flinched for a moment but smoothly transitioned to the next move like water flowing. Ricardis asked awkwardly, “… Does it hurt?”
“It’s like a feather. I don’t feel a thing.”
How shameful! Like a feather? How could she not feel a thing when he was 180 pounds full of muscles!? He glanced at the ground, and she was even barefoot.
“Where are your shoes?”
“They got taken by Lewon because they got wet. Slippers aren’t suitable for dancing in terms of shape and form, so I took them off. They hindered me.”
How deep was her passion for dancing, really? Ricardis momentarily paused the dance and took off his shoes. It was to prepare in case there was an unfortunate incident of stepping on her foot. However, he regretted that decision keenly within just five minutes. He trembled slightly at the warmth that lightly touched his skin. It was okay to hold her bare hands, but her usually far-from-being-touched bare feet, the sensation of her skin gently touching his, felt like all senses were directed towards his feet. Rosaline also seemed ticklish and smiled.
Ricardis grabbed Rosaline’s hand and spun her around once. Hair and shirts swirled in the air. Thinking that she seemed to enjoy this move, he spun her a few more times. Laughter filled the air.
“Your Highness, feel free to make mistakes at the ball. I’ll lead you.”
Imagining himself being dragged around by force, Ricardis couldn’t help but smile. Some dance practice would be needed. He imagined Rosaline at the ball, surrounded by a plethora of food, and smiled contentedly.
Was that place overflowing with dreams and hopes? People were laughing amidst the shining and beautiful melodies, but it was clear that genuine happiness was not widespread. However, Rosaline seemed to belong to that very small minority. Not that it was a bad thing… But Ricardis couldn’t help but think of a man who would be laughing like everyone else in his mind.
After firmly holding her hand, Ricardis stopped in his tracks. Rosaline also stopped without resisting his actions.
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64ce79d606107d003c23ea27", id: "pf-5140-1"})“Rosaline.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“I apologize in advance since you seem to be looking forward to the ball, but I need you to be more vigilant.”
“Don’t worry, Your Highness!”
When Rosaline answered confidently, Ricardis chuckled bitterly. “Not in protecting me.”
Rosaline’s eyes widened.
“But His Majesty the Emperor.”
Her mouth hung open. The words “N-no… I don’t want to…” were about to burst out of her mouth.
“The situation seems quite dangerous. It’s of no concern to me whether the Emperor lives or dies, and in fact, he’s one of the individuals I wouldn’t mind seeing gone sooner. But right now, it’s problematic. If the Emperor passes away now, Illavenia will most likely plunge into a civil war, and Balta will seize the opportunity to invade. Or that fool Elpidio might drag Balta in to try and strike me.”
Rosaline gestured wildly, trying to explain something. She seemed to want to bring up reasons why it wouldn’t happen, but she couldn’t quite recall them. Just a while ago, she had a smile on her face as if she was feeling good, but now the corners of her mouth were turned down, and she looked pitiful.
“I’m not saying you must do this for a lifetime; just during the ball. The security surrounding the Emperor is beyond what you can casually dismiss. Around fifty of the strongest knights in the Empire, including the Holy Knights, always guard him. It’s tough to kill him when he’s in the Diamond Castle in normal circumstances, so the enemies will aim for when that security is weakened. I see an opportunity during the upcoming Imperial Ball. In truth, not only you but many families, including the Knights of the White Night, will be guarding the Emperor. The chances are higher that you won’t have to step forward.”
“Oh, if that’s the case…” Rosaline nodded. “Will there be time to dance?”
“You can probably manage a short moment nearby while keeping an eye on the Emperor respectfully.”
“Your Highness, when dancing, you should not let your attention be diverted like that. It’s a kind of art where you must fully focus on the music, your partner, and every movement of your body and regulate them.”
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64cc9e79c7059f003e4ad4b0", id: "pf-5109-1"})She was very artistic. Ricardis laughed. “Then you can’t dance. What a pity.”
“… However, since I’ve heard people call me a prodigy, I might be able to dance while watching over the Emperor.”
“I didn’t know you were adorned with such a title. Regardless, you’re capable. You’re truly my knight.”
Rosaline was subtly pleased but then regained her composure. “But who is targeting the Emperor?”
Ricardis kept his lips sealed, just watching her. Perplexed by his silence, Rosaline looked at him until she understood the unspoken answer.
***
A loud, thunderous sound of something massive and weighty cut through the air. Thanks to that, Calyx sensed the presence of a guest even before the looming shadow cast over his table. Thud, something settled on the windowsill.
The shadow of a beast that had filled the room transformed into a human figure. A man with gray hair tore down the curtains and haphazardly wrapped them around his body. The man, walking wearily, collapsed onto the sofa.
“Sir… Macaron…”
Calyx stood awkwardly across from where Macaron lay. His lips could only tremble, unable to speak. Macaron, seemingly lifeless, closed their eyes as if dead and then opened their mouth, “Did you not want to ask why I sent your sister’s murderer back with not a hair harmed? Don’t you want to argue or curse?”
“… May I?”
“Why are you asking me that?”
Calyx wiped his face and stroked his chin. His forehead was deeply furrowed, not out of anger but out of being at a loss in an awkward situation. “Am I allowed to curse? I wasn’t there, after all.”
Resentment towards them was almost inevitable, but what right did he have to resent when even Rosaline, who was a party to the incident, didn’t? Moreover, the one who had sent back Prince Diech, the man who had hurt his sister, was Macaron.
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "663633fa8ebf7442f0652b33", id: "pf-8817-1"})Macaron was someone who incessantly scrutinized every detail and clung to every aspect as if they were a blood relative of Rosaline. Calyx knew that their facade was not false. He knew how skillfully Macaron could act, but he couldn’t believe that the actions and words he saw and heard in front of Rosaline and himself were fabricated.
So, it truly was a realm unknown to him. There must have been unavoidable circumstances. In such thoughts, Calyx could shed some of the remaining resentment.
“If it was a situation where you were allowed to, did you want to resent and curse, or did you not? Human reason isn’t so clear-cut like cutting a radish with a knife.”
“Unless I’m mistaken, it seems like you want to be cursed. Despite my appearance, I don’t have the talent for cursing. My sister told me to speak politely. Instead, I’m good at using polite words to ridicule, so if that’s what you’d like, I can manage that.”
Macaron closed their eyes and laughed, making a deflating sound. “When would you like to start?”
“I refuse; not because I can’t curse, but I have a twisted mentality of not doing what others ask.”
“… You’re starting to creep me out.”
Calyx finally eased his stern expression and sat across from them. Slowly tearing grapes on the table, putting one in their mouth, Macaron spoke again, their tone deliberate.
“Rosaline.
“If that person reaches that level of holy power, even the dead will come back to life.
“He has the ability.”
Though no names were mentioned, it seemed clear that the phrase ‘he has the ability’ was referring to Ricardis. After that dispute that didn’t discriminate between status and person, Macaron seemed to have gone through many changes of heart during the few days they had been missing, although their temperament remained the same.
“So, what on earth have you been doing for the past few days? Sister was worried about you…” This wasn’t enough. Perhaps Macaron was leaving. Perhaps they were growing to despise like Diech. With no one to ask, he couldn’t get answers, simmering in frustrating uncertainty.
Macaron spoke as if exhausted, lying still. Calyx leaned in, waiting for their response.
“… my…”
“Yes.”
“A journey to find myself…”
“If you don’t want to say… you could simply say so.”
Macaron chuckled while rolling around on the sofa. Despite its size, it was still a sofa. Rolling so vigorously, it was impossible not to fall off. Thud. Falling, Macaron tried to get up, hit their head on the table, and then quietly lay back down. The table trembled as the dish with grapes fell and made a clattering sound on the floor.
It all happened in the blink of an eye. Calyx was dumbfounded, blinking rapidly. It was a bit amusing that they fell, but lying there so motionless made them look eerie, like a corpse.
“… Are you hurt?”
“My heart hurts terribly… Does that moon know my heart…?”
They seemed like a middle-aged man drinking and whining. However, the reason Calyx couldn’t get irritated was that he read something in the glimpses he could see of them. Macaron continued muttering while lying face down.
“To help understand…”
“Yes.”
“The real Rosaline. Not the face one.”
“… She’s not fake.”
“Mm, did our little one get upset?” Their soothing tone lacked sincerity.
