Chapter 60
***
Just after Julian and Charlotte disappeared into the reception room with the prince and his wife.
The banquet hall began to stir like a kicked hornet's nest.
“What did he just say? He'll give us a baby as a gift?”
“Has the adopted son of the baronial house finally gone crazy?”
“His Highness called him aside, and no matter how you look at it, something big seems to have happened...”
Some peeking from behind fans, others over wineglasses.
The gazes of the noble youths were fixed on the reception room door.
The same was true of the other noble youths who had been chatting amiably with Freya.
“Even when I heard about the Belheim incident, I thought he was extraordinary, but I didn't know it would be this much.”
The young lord of the Heide house, standing on the terrace, muttered as he pushed up his glasses.
Then he shifted his gaze to Julian's group.
“Miss Freya. Is Lord Julian normally like that?”
“Huh? Ah. Yes. My brother sometimes says strange things. It must be one of those times again.”
“You mean strange...?”
“He sometimes cuts out all the context and states the result first. The listeners often feel their hearts drop.”
Beside Freya, Erika, who had been silently chewing on a sausage, swallowed the rest and spoke up.
“That's how geniuses are, right? It was like that with me too.”
“Indeed, that's what people often say about geniuses.”
The young lord of Heide nodded, stroking his chin.
“Then, Miss Freya, are you saying Lord Julian really thinks His Highness can have a child?”
“Yes. My brother isn't the type to say something he can't handle.”
“My, from Count Belheim to His Highness the prince...”
The young lord of Heide fixed his gaze on the reception room door.
Before long, thirty minutes had passed since they disappeared beyond the reception room.
Creak.
The firmly shut door opened.
Everyone in the banquet hall turned toward one spot.
First came the princess consort and Charlotte, along with the guard knights.
The youths noticed that the princess consort's eyes were red.
It was not hard to infer that she must have cried heavily in there.
Though what those tears meant was still unknown.
The princess consort and Charlotte returned to their seats.
Then the reception room door closed again.
Julian and Edmund did not come out.
“They're still not out?”
“Did the prince stay behind with him alone?”
“Sending out even the princess consort and talking just the two of them...”
“Looks like it wasn't an ordinary matter.”
Time passed again.
It didn't take long before the door opened again.
Edmund came out.
Walking side by side with Julian, no less.
Edmund, who had walked in with his back to Julian, was now walking beside him.
And even with the prince wearing a broad smile!
There was only one meaning to the prince smiling so brightly.
“My God...”
“He really did it?”
“Something even high-ranking healers said couldn't be done?”
In the midst of everyone's gazes.
Julian and the prince were chatting cordially.
“I understand your concern about the princess consort's blood spots. But if you keep taking the medicine I give you, they'll disappear quickly, so there's no need to worry too much.”
“That too?”
“Yes. From then on, you won't need to cover them with a lace collar; you can wear whatever clothes you like.”
“You even take care of that? As expected, Sir Julian. Would you consider becoming my dedicated healer?”
Dedicated healer.
At that word, a chill ran down the spines of the young nobles.
A dedicated healer is a position that holds a royal's life in its hands.
That's why even high-ranking healers, who had spent their lives proving their integrity and neutrality, rarely received the imperial family's offer of the dedicated healer post...
Such an offer had been thrown, right in the middle of the founding festival banquet hall, at the adopted son of a baronial house.
But even more surprising than that was Julian's response.
“I'm honored, Your Highness. But as a doctor, becoming the exclusive healer to one specific person would be difficult.”
“Why is that?”
“If I became Your Highness's exclusive healer, I would have to spend my entire day on standby for you.”
“That would be so.”
“But the people who need me aren't just you, Your Highness.”
“Hah.”
Edmund let out a sigh.
“Saying it like that would make it rude for me to keep pressing.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“But hearing that makes me want you even more. As expected, my dedicated...”
“...”
“...Just kidding. Please don't look at me like that.”
Heh heh.
Edmund laughed and patted Julian on the shoulder.
A soldier's greeting reserved only for reliable comrades who had crossed the battlefield together.
“Whether exclusive or not doesn't matter. Let's keep our connection. I'll be waiting for you at the detached palace tomorrow.”
Edmund turned back toward the princess consort.
Then, the moment Julian also turned to go back to his seat.
A wall of people blocked his path.
Julian barely had time to be flustered by the crowd blocking his way.
A young lady approached him with a smile behind her fan.
“Lord Julian. Could you perhaps grant me a dance today?”
“I'm sorry, but I have a fiancée...”
Before Julian could even finish his polite refusal.
Another voice cut in from the side.
“Lord Julian. I'm Fritz from the House of Wolff. My father has had a long-standing connection with the House of Nihirit, so I wanted to greet you once.”
Behind the young lord who offered a handshake, another young lady quietly took her place.
“I heard about the Belheim incident. If you have time, perhaps...”
People asking for dances, people offering handshakes, people trying to continue the conversation.
The forms differed, but they all shared one thing.
The ones who hadn't even paid him any attention during the earlier small talk were now showering Julian with fervent interest.
Erika tilted her head as she skillfully reheated the cold meat with magic.
“Why are they all suddenly acting like that?”
At that, Freya narrowed her eyes.
Even as she said that, Erika's fork never stopped moving.
A deep sigh slipped from Freya's lips.
“Sis. Don't you realize how amazing what just happened is?”
“That our teacher caught the eye of the highest-ranked person?”
“Yes... well... that's not exactly wrong, I suppose.”
Freya nearly slapped her forehead, but barely held back and continued her explanation.
“That man earned remarkable military merit on the southern front for three years. As the twelfth prince, he has virtually no claim to the succession, but because of his military achievements he was effectively made independent from the imperial family, and it's almost certain he'll receive the title of marquis.”
“So?”
“The princess consort is a duke's daughter.”
“I see.”
“The imperial family even wanted to push for an annulment because of the inheritance issue. But since the other side is a ducal house, they couldn't easily go through with it. And if my brother solved that problem...”
“That means a powerful backer has appeared. That's a good thing.”
“How can you brush past that so easily, sis!?”
Erika snorted at Freya's reaction.
“Honestly, I don't understand why you're surprised.”
“Huh?”
“I've watched Teacher up close for a long time. This much is only natural. No, I should say it's actually late, if anything.”
Munch.
Erika emptied her plate by tossing the last piece of meat into her mouth.
Seeing that, the words “Is food really that important?” rose to Freya's throat.
But before Freya could say it.
A sharp scream suddenly rang out from Julian's side.
“Ah-!”
Freya turned her head.
In front of Julian, a young lady was crouched down, clutching her shoe.
“Um, I'm sorry, Lord Nihirit... I think I twisted my ankle because of my shoes... could you take a quick look?”
Julian, as if it were only natural, knelt and began examining the young lady's ankle.
He pressed his fingers around the ankle to check for tenderness,
firmly bracing the calf with one hand and pulling the heel forward,
and moving the heel this way and that.
Julian's examination was more thorough than expected, and the young lady who claimed to have twisted it looked flustered instead.
Tsk.
Freya clicked her tongue briefly at the sight.
“On the way home, I'll have to tell my brother about that young lady's love life. My brother is too kind for his own good.”
Erika, moving to the dessert section with a new plate in hand, replied casually.
“You don't have to worry about that.”
“Huh?”
Before long, Erika had brought back a tart.
Poking at the tart on her plate with her fork, she said,
“Do you know how many women from the lower district threw themselves at Teacher hoping to get treated? But Teacher never gave them so much as a glance. There was something he always said at times like that.”
“What did he say?”
“Patients are in their most vulnerable state in front of a doctor. That's why it's easy for them to develop feelings for the doctor treating them. Because they're grateful. Because they rely on them.”
“I guess so?”
“But Teacher says you can't indulge that. The moment a doctor accepts a patient's feelings, the doctor loses objectivity. And a relationship that starts that way can easily turn into exploitation.”
“Ah.”
Freya slowly nodded.
It was certainly a convincing argument.
And if it was the brother Freya knew, she also believed he'd carry that logic through to the end.
“If that's the case, then that's a relief.”
“Right? So that girl's little scheme was doomed from the start.”
Munch.
Erika finished off the tart.
Then, the music changed.
A grand piece centered on strings began filling the banquet hall.
The ball had begun.
The tables in the center of the banquet hall were pushed toward the walls by the servants.
The cleared center became the dance floor, and the buffet and seating were rearranged to ring it.
Erika and Freya took their seats by the buffet corner.
A spot overlooking the entire ballroom, good for both eating and watching.
Of course, Erika had chosen this spot for the former, not the latter.
As the music started, Julian finally escaped the crowd and went to Charlotte.
Julian extended his hand toward his fiancée.
Charlotte took it, her cheeks puffed out.
The two of them made their way to the center of the ballroom.
“I'll allow you to dance over here.”
The prince granted permission for them to dance near where he and his wife were dancing.
With that, Julian's stock also shot through the roof.
The young lords and ladies who could no longer approach Julian naturally found their next target.
It was Julian's entourage.
“Miss Freya. If you don't mind, perhaps—.”
“I'm sorry, but I didn't come here for that today. And it's still too early for me as well.”
Freya smiled and politely declined.
Such offers naturally came to Erika as well.
“Miss Erika. Would you grant me a dance?”
“I'm sorry, but I already have someone in mind.”
““Huh?””
The young lord and Freya were startled at the same time.
Erika, unconcerned, tossed a piece of tart into her mouth.
The two of them had fended off the first dance request.
But whenever one person backed off, another would approach them.
“Then how about the next song at least—.”
“Didn't I say I already have someone in mind?”
“Miss Erika, I'm from the Viscount House of Lilienthal—.”
“I have someone in mind.”
It was the same answer, like a broken record.
Freya's side wasn't much different.
“Miss Freya, even one song—.”
“I'm really sorry.”
“Then perhaps we could get in touch separately later—.”
“That seems difficult too.”
The young lords retreated, approached again, retreated again, and approached again, repeating it countless times.
Erika set her fork down on the plate with a clack.
“At this rate, this will never end.”
Erika turned to look at Freya.
“Dance with me.”
“Huh?”
Freya was flustered for a moment.
Then she realized Erika's intention.
Dancing with someone of the same sex, or with family, was one signal in this social circle.
— ‘We didn't come here to court anyone today.’
There were occasionally real same-sex couples, but those were extremely exceptional cases.
Normally, ignoring this signal and asking for a dance was considered rude.
That was why Erika had asked Freya to dance.
“...Okay.”
Freya took Erika's hand.
As the two of them moved to one side of the ballroom, the two young lords who had been about to follow stopped in their tracks.
A dance between two women.
The young lords, understanding the meaning, lowered their heads one by one and withdrew.
One corner of the noisy banquet hall.
Space for just Erika and Freya was created.
Erika's dancing was clumsy.
She was leading, but it was the lead of someone with no formal training.
If Freya hadn't matched her steps from time to time, they would have stumbled several times.
Then Erika spoke.
In a voice only Freya could hear.
“Freya. You know what?”
“...Yes?”
“There's this old man I know in the lower district who says the same thing every day. Not everyone can start from the same starting line.”
Freya's foot was a beat late.
“...What are you suddenly talking about?”
“I'm still a patient and a commoner to Teacher.”
Freya's hand froze.
Erika's chronic illness flashed through her mind.
That's right.
From the very beginning, and right up to now, Erika had always been Julian's patient.
Escort, guest, assistant. No matter how many roles overlapped.
The fact that Erika was Julian's patient always remained.
And Julian always...
Thinking that far, Freya's dance faltered for half a beat.
But Erika didn't stop.
She continued her awkward lead and said calmly,
“Right now, all I can do is eat well and sleep well so I can get healthy as soon as possible. I have to find out whether my heart still feels the same then.”
Freya looked up at Erika.
At that moment, a scene flashed through Freya's mind.
— “You just need to grow up healthy.”
Every time she heard those words, Erika would let out a snort of laughter.
“No way...”
At Freya's reaction, Erika let out a small laugh.
The same laugh as always.
Freya didn't ask what that laugh meant.
The two of them danced in silence for a while.
Then, just as the song neared its climax, Freya asked Erika a question.
“What do you want to do once you're healthy, sis?”
“Well...”
Erika looked up at the ceiling.
The light of the chandelier reflected in her crimson eyes.
“For starters, I think I'll try applying to be a hero. Or maybe a knight or a mercenary. If I make a name for myself outside the walls, maybe I could become a noble too, right?”
At those words, Freya stared at Erika, speechless.
It was a night when Erika's awkwardly leading side profile seemed especially large.
*
The dance ended.
The two of them left the ballroom and returned to the buffet corner.
As soon as she sat down, Erika picked up a new plate.
And began piling food onto it.
“Dancing makes me hungry.”
Sausages, chunks of cheese, tart, smoked salmon, meat, and bread.
When Erika first loaded up her plate, Freya had looked at her with sympathetic eyes too.
Because she thought that was the best Erika could do right now.
But the stack on her plate kept getting higher and higher.
Freya, watching it all, opened her mouth.
“Um... it's good to eat well and sleep well to get healthy as soon as possible, but... isn't this a bit too much, sis?”
“Huh?”
Erika stopped her fork and tilted her head.
“That's one thing, and this is another.”
“Huh?”
“No, I mean, I'm just eating it because it's delicious, right? People aren't meant to live on healthy food alone.”
After saying that, Erika stood up once again to refill her plate.
Blink.
Freya blinked her eyes.
Just how deep was Erika, really?
Freya's mind was in turmoil over that unfathomable depth.
Regardless of that.
Erika was simply emptying plate after plate with the momentum of someone determined to make history today.