Chapter 227 - Black Footprint (2)

The gentle noise of the gathering can already be heard over the wall.

It was neither too formal nor rowdy with clinking glasses and loud voices, but just the right level of lively atmosphere was conveyed.

Cecil blocked my way as she headed towards the main gate. Then she rubbed my cheeks with both hands.

"You're still thinking about that letter, aren't you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"No, but I'm really concerned about it, so I thought you must be the same."

"Why are you so concerned?"

"I'm just curious. Who could it be? Seeing how you're so hung up on it, it's like a lost family member... or an old lover you broke up with."

"...Well."

"In novels, it's always someone like you who falls head over heels for a freckled redhead country girl who milks cows, and returns home without a word."

"Someone like me?"

I wondered how she saw me to imagine such a thing.

Cecil brought her face close and scrutinized my expression as if trying to read my mind.

"Hmm, am I wrong?"

"If it were something like that, I'd be more at ease."

Although racking my brains here wouldn't yield an answer, I couldn't help but be concerned. An unknown being was watching me from an unreachable distant place.

"Alright. Let's stop here. We're almost there, so promise me one thing. Think about the letter only until we enter the gate."

I felt unnecessarily sorry for Cecil. This must be an event she had been looking forward to a lot. She'd be disappointed if I couldn't properly enjoy it because my mind was preoccupied with something else.

"Okay."

"After crossing the gate, think only of Cecil."

"Let's go."

"Answer. Answer."

Seeing Cecil's playful behavior, I couldn't help but smile slightly. Thanks to that, my attention was diverted.

"Alright, I will."

Standing in front of the gate, two knights in medium armor asked us for invitations.

We showed the prepared invitations and passed through without any issues.

In the courtyard, a scene quite different from noble gatherings was unfolding.

Painters drawing pictures of young girls. A band setting the mood. Impromptu plays. Even dazzling firework tricks controlled by magic.

Some were also gathered with drinks, having passionate discussions about art theory.

"There are many other parties in Rigved, why did you choose this one?"

"This is the most sophisticated, isn't it? And there's talk that having good aesthetic sense gives bonus points in the magic engineering competition, so I'm learning a bit too."

Just then, a man with a goatee who looked about thirty shouted towards us.

"Cecilia!"

He approached us with his arms wide open, his pronunciation slightly curved.

Cecil whispered to me, "Ah, be careful of that person."

"Why?"

"He doesn't really like women."

"...But isn't he welcoming you?"

"No, that's not it..."

"...?"

Cecil closed her eyes tightly and said, "Just pretend to be my lover. Play along appropriately according to the situation."

"..."

The goateed man came to Cecil and offered a handshake. A round-lined tunic that made his thin build look fuller, jewels hanging abundantly on his wrists. Exotic eyes. Now that I looked closely, he had even drawn his eyebrows thickly and was wearing earrings.

"Oh, Cecilia! The malachite of Eternia. Woman of July!"

Cecil smiled, half-forcedly, and said, "As I've said before, it's Cecil. Cecil."

He looked at my face and silently mouthed an exclamation.

"I'm also glad to see this dazzlingly handsome young man here. Your name?"

"It's Damian."

"Hmm, Bourdis Yulabe."

His eyes looking at me seem like they might shoot sparks at any moment.

"Pardon?"

"It means a sunflower grown eating starlight. It's exactly the words for you. Vush! Cecilia! Where did you find such a—! Damn fox."

Cecil corrected her name again in the midst of this.

"Cecil, Cecil."

"Oh, I'm sorry. But Cecilia rolls off the tongue more smoothly, you know."

I didn't think even the most veteran actor could imitate those diverse expressions and gestures.

"I'm late with introductions. I'm Comte. You might not know, but playwriting is my main job and trading is my side job."

Cecil added an explanation for me, "When people talk about the best playwright in Rigved, they all point to him."

Comte feigned modesty, "Hmm hmm, don't say that."

"Ah, I'm sorry. But hasn't Anthony arrived yet?"

"Oh, he'll be here in an hour. Now, my lovely Eternia friends. Is there anything you're curious about or want to know more about?"

Cecil said, "Hmm, not really."

"How about our Yulabe?"

"..."

He narrowed his eyes, looked me up and down, and asked as if interrogating, "Is this your first time at such a gathering?"

Oh no, was it obvious that I hadn't adapted to the party atmosphere? He's sharp.

"Yes, it's my first time. I didn't know there were so many artists in Rigved."

"Ah, not all of them. As you can see, there are also noble ladies who sponsor artists and critics mixed in."

"I've lived with a wall between me and art, so I'm worried if I can join in their conversations."

"Oh, oh, don't worry."

Comte waved his hand dismissively, looked back once as if keeping watch, then brought his face close to me and said, "Don't be deceived by the wordplay of these philistines. Valencia School. Claridium Cubism, Petran imagery expression, blah blah they pretend to explore noble and metaphysical art with difficult-to-understand words, they act all high and mighty, but in fact, these philistines only have two base desires in their heads."

"...?"

He brings his face even closer.

"...Money and sex."

Then he gave me a wink with a fresh smile.

Cecil, somewhat shaken by the artist's unrestrained expression, moved her lips.

"We... aren't interested in such philistine things. We just came to enjoy art, and I'm sure they did too."

She put on a faint smile, pretending to be composed.

Comte tapped Cecil's temple with his finger and spoke as if lecturing a child, "Be careful, innocent Yulabe. People who say they're not interested and don't need it, are actually the most obsessed with it. When I travel here and there for trade, I meet so many of these frauds."

Hmm...

"Ah, no...!"

Cecil floundered like a broken wind-up doll. Her face turned as red as a beat in the blink of an eye.

It wasn’t easy to tease Cecil with just words. This was the first time I had seen her so flustered.

"Well then, see you later. Mushi!"

The man left hurriedly with a satisfied smile. He was a high-level teaser, not even giving a chance to make excuses.

After he left, a strange silence followed as if water had been poured. Cecil tugged at my sleeve. She who was usually uninhibited in touching my body suddenly became shy like Luna.

"It's not true. You know?"

"Huh?"

"I said it's not true."

Cecil expressed her frustration by stamping her feet a few times.

"I got it."

"You..."

"Artists... are not to be underestimated. Right?"

"Ha... it's unfair."

Cecil turned her back to me and fanned herself, cooling her face. I was also struggling to keep a straight face, pretending to be nonchalant. I was just as embarrassed.

***

Cecil only regained her composure after emptying two glasses of wine.

I managed Cecil's drinking habit within reasonable limits while looking around the party venue.

A mage performing tricks in front of us saw us and created an illusion of a rose.

Cecil casually linked her arm with mine and waved to the mage in greeting.

"Rigved will have a lot more to see now, huh?"

"Why's that?"

"Most of the artists here are from Claridium. They've moved here in a group and are holding this gathering to find new sponsors."

"Is there some big opportunity in Rigved?"

"Claridium is the richest and most technologically advanced magic city in the world. Unless you're a magic scholar, it's hard to get sponsorship and afford living costs there."

"They could have gone to the Empire or somewhere else."

"Rigved has relatively less discrimination based on origin. Capital circulates steadily, wealthy nobles from various countries often visit, and there are fewer taboos."

"Anyway, it's good for us."

There was a phrase that got drilled into one’s ears when taking Art Club classes.

Artists should go to big cities.

They say that where there were many people, money gathered, and there were more chances to catch the eye of rich people who would invest in your work.

While Rigved was a fairly big city, it wasn’t as big as Claridium. It also rained a lot and was often foggy, so it wasn’t very pleasant. It must not have been an easy choice to move their base, so I became curious about the detailed story of why they decided to relocate.

Suddenly, Cecil looked up at me with clear eyes wet with intoxication.

"It's nice. Better than the ball last time."

"Yeah."

"...Let's come play often."

Cecil naturally anticipated the next time. I wondered if it was okay to make promises so freely, but I nodded as if enchanted by something.

"Sure."

While moving to the next attraction, Cecil suddenly stopped walking. Her brow furrowed slightly as if she had seen a mouse rummaging through a trash can.

"What? Why is he here?"

"Why?"

I looked where her gaze was directed. Far away, a neatly dressed Hubert raised his glass to us in greeting. True to his dwarven lineage, he was surrounded by noble ladies with their chests half-exposed.

Cecil's pronunciation became crisp. Seeing Hubert seemed to have sobered her up.

"Ah, please."

He finally shook off the noble ladies and approached us.

Hubert tapped my shoulder in a familiar gesture.

"You came?"

He offered a light fist bump, but when I just stared at him blankly, he quietly withdrew it.

Then, as expected, he started teasing Cecil like before.

"You, I knew it. After whining that you only have Candy, you finally..."

"Shut up."

"Well done. People should enjoy face-to-face conversations."

"Stop, stop."

"You too, pretending to value inner beauty while just talking smoothly..."

"Fine! I'll abandon someone who doesn't match me and play with someone better without loyalty!"

"I'm just cheering for you. Sincerely."

Their conversation felt like a one-act play. They both knew my identity, but they were conversing without sharing that fact.

Meanwhile, the party venue suddenly became noisy.

A group of people entered through the main gate, and everyone covered their mouths and murmured while looking at them. Comte, who had just teased Cecil, ran busily to welcome them.

"Misha! Anthony! Valentina! I'm sorry. I'm so glad to see you that I can't think of a welcoming phrase."

Five girls entered in a group. Their clothes were inappropriately long robes that dragged on the ground for a party. They seemed to have come in a hurry without time to dress formally.

"It's okay! We're used to people being speechless at our beauty!"

"We missed you, Uncle!"

The girls laugh brightly.

Behind them followed a servant carrying brushes and canvases. A bulky figure that looked like a guard knight was stopped by the doorkeeper as he tried to follow. Judging by their appearance and the servants following them, the girls didn't seem to be artists or patrons. If so, they must be celebrities invited solely for their background or buzz-worthiness. Having many such people would make this place more desirable.

The girls' confident remarks had some basis, even in my eyes, which had become more discerning thanks to Silveryn.

Hubert muttered gravely, looking at the newcomers, "They've come as rumored."

Cecil showed interest.

"Who? Someone you know?"

"Who else, they're the ones we'll meet as enemies during our exchange competition. The golden generation of the Imperial Academy."

Cecil responded indifferently, "Hmm. If they were really the golden generation, wouldn't they have come to Eternia?"

"Yeah, that's the damn right answer."

Cecil checked her watch and handed me her glass, saying, "Ah, Anthony must have arrived. I have something to do for the professor's request. Damian, will you play around here for a bit? And... don't do anything weird!"

"Come back soon."

Cecil hurriedly entered the main building of the party venue.

After confirming that she had left, Hubert gulped down the white wine in his hand and revealed his true nature.

"Kya, listen, friend, the term 'golden generation' isn't just about ability. If you have eyes... well, anyway."

"..."

The girls from the Empire and Comte were having some conversation. Then Comte's gaze turned towards us and he talked passionately, mixing in hand gestures. Being of similar age and from the academy, he seemed to be making light introductions.

The girls, having finished their boisterous welcome greetings, started to blend into the party.

"It's an opportunity, friend. If you miss this, your ancestors in hell will scold you for eternity."

"What opportunity?"

"Are we going to limit our infinite potential to just Eternia? Seriously? Dating only girls from the same academy is the worst. Classmates are even worse. What if the relationship goes sour? How will you endure four hellish years of running into each other everywhere—the cafeteria, classrooms, dormitory?"

"Weren't you dating that senior before?"

I remember. This guy was sticking close to a female senior like a couple at the ball.

"No, more precisely, there are intense feelings but it's still just a good senior-junior relationship. Just like you and Cecil, you and Luna, you and Sion..."

"Shut up."

Damn, this guy's saying dangerous things.

"And friend, seniors have different schedules and graduate earlier, so it's far better than classmates. You're in real trouble. Well, of course, it's better than messing with a professor."

Now my head was starting to throb.

"So what are you planning to do?"

Hubert put a silver coin into an empty glass.

"I'm going to seduce them, of course. I bet one silver coin that I'll get the Stitch marker of that two-toned braided Imperial girl over there."

"You'll get struck by lightning doing that."

"Friend, this is just a game. We're not going to get all sticky together, nor are we taking lifelong responsibility. It's just exchanging Stitches with pure hearts. She's probably looking for attention too, right? Life gets suffocating if you're too serious all the time."

I took out a silver coin and put it in his glass, accepting the bet. I wanted to send him away quickly.

"Alright, I bet one on 'you won't get it'. Go ahead and do your best."

Do as you please. It's not like I'm responsible for it.

Only then did Hubert grin cheekily.

"The great poet Almus's memoir has this maxim: All women who still wear twin braids after turning twenty were crazy."

"..."

"I'm embarking on the great adventure of seducing a woman who's just on the verge of going crazy."

Hubert exclaimed dramatically, like an actor on stage.

"Gentlemen, raise the anchor!"

Then he started moving forward, imitating the sound of a departure trumpet. The place he left was filled with the strong scent of wine.