Chapter 57
Monica, after Bernie escorted her as far as the dressing room, let go of Bernie's arm and bowed deeply.
"Um... thank you for escorting me, Count Ambard."
"You're welcome, Mage Count Everett."
Bernie gave a proud snort and laughed before heading back to the venue. As a count, he was probably busy, with plenty of people to greet.
Monica watched until Bernie turned the corner at the end of the hall, then opened the dressing-room door.
She had assumed no one would be there and opened it without knocking, but Clifford was sitting comfortably on a sofa inside.
He had already changed out of the deep purple robe she had seen him wear onstage and into a well-tailored outfit more suited to a secretary, and he was wearing his usual large round glasses.
"Um... where's Lana?"
When Monica asked timidly, Clifford stared at her intently with gray eyes behind his glasses, then spoke.
"Lana's been flying all over the venue. She was excited because orders for the robes are going to increase."
"D-doesn't she need you with her?"
"Apparently I'm not suited to business negotiations. She told me to wait here."
It did seem true: a business meeting was probably not the place for the unsociable, brutally frank Clifford. But was that really all right for a secretary?
While Monica was secretly wondering about that, Clifford asked, "Aren't you going to sit down?"
The dressing room held two sofas with a low table between them. Clifford was sitting on one of them.
Monica didn't have the courage to sit right beside him, so she whispered, "Excuse me..." and sat down on the sofa opposite him.
Clifford watched her with his arms crossed, without blinking. As his unabashed stare made Monica shrink back, he spoke without warning.
"By the way, what is a mere magic otaku like you doing at this venue?"
"............Huh?"
"You must have badgered Lana until she let you tag along. How shameless."
Apparently, this man hadn't realized that Monica was one of the Seven Sages.
Naturally, Monica had been formally invited and was there legitimately. She had no reason to put up with Clifford's complaints.
As Monica struggled to decide how to answer, Clifford continued speaking in a flat voice, as though her reaction didn't matter to him.
"Lana is much too soft on you. I don't like it... You're my rival after all."
"........A-a rival?"
What could they possibly be competing over? Still puzzled by his one-sided declaration of rivalry, Monica asked timidly,
"Um... do you... like Lana?"
"Anyone could tell that just by looking."
Monica swallowed the words, "I really can't tell."
As far as Monica had seen, Clifford said "Lana's an idiot" to Lana fairly often. He certainly didn't seem to harbor any affection for her.
When Monica looked at him suspiciously, Clifford leaned back arrogantly on the sofa and said,
"Lana is selfish and vain."
"..........."
"Especially when she finds something she likes, she immediately wants to show it off and brag about it."
Clifford really did seem to be insulting Lana, and nothing else.
But before Monica could object, Clifford continued:
"I had nothing I liked or disliked, but the things Lana proudly showed off looked dazzling to me."
"Oh," Monica breathed.
It was the same for Monica. As long as she had numbers and magic, she hadn't cared about anything else. She had never been interested in fashion or food.
Monica had only begun taking an interest in fashion because Lana taught her how to braid her hair.
Monica had once thought food only needed to provide nourishment, but Lana had paid close attention to her and remembered what foods Monica liked.
Whenever Lana laughed proudly and said, "Isn't this lovely?!" the world looked just a little more dazzling to Monica.
"I... can understand that feeling a little."
Monica lowered her head, fidgeted with her fingers, and spoke in a tiny voice.
"I like Lana when she talks about the things she likes, too."
Clifford stared at Monica in silence for a while, then nodded thoughtfully, as though he had come to some understanding.
"You're definitely my rival. You wouldn't give up your time with Lana even for three large gold coins, would you?"
"No."
When Monica answered immediately in an unusually forceful tone, Clifford muttered, "A formidable opponent," and stared at her darkly.
"There are very few things I dislike, but I rather dislike you, my rival. And that man who pointed a gun at me."
"Th-that was because you pointed your gun at him first...! Isaac did nothing wrong!"
Clifford glared at Monica. She pressed her lips tightly together and glared back, looking up at him with the fiercest expression she could manage.
They continued glaring at each other for a while, until the dressing-room door flew open and Lana burst in, visibly elated.
"I'm baaaack! ...Oh? When did you two become friends?"
Lana knew that Clifford was indifferent to other people and that Monica was shy around strangers. To her, the mere fact that the two were looking at each other—or, more accurately, glaring at each other—must have made them seem close.
"Lana, you're completely blind. We're not friends at all."
Since Clifford insisted on that, Monica opened her mouth as well.
"Um... we're rivals."
"........Rivals in what?"
Lana tilted her head, puzzled, but apparently decided not to think too deeply about it.
Besides, Lana's lips kept twitching, as though she had something she was dying to tell them.
"Anyway, Monica. Listen, listen! I just heard from Mrs. Walton!"
"...Hm?"
Lana placed a hand on Monica's shoulder and spoke in an excited voice.
"They say Ashley-sama's engagement has been called off!"
Even after hearing Lana's words, Monica could not react right away.
"(Cyril-sama's engagement... has been called off? So Cyril-sama won't be getting engaged?)"
After slowly taking the time to understand what Lana's words meant—
Despair drained the color from her face.
"...Monica?"
Lana frowned at Monica's visibly colorless face.
Still seated on the sofa, Monica slowly lowered her head and covered her face with both hands.
"...I'm the worst."
"Huh?"
When Lana asked in puzzlement, Monica muttered as though confessing a sin.
"When I heard that Cyril-sama's engagement had been called off, I... I thought, 'Thank goodness...'"
Indeed, the instant she heard Lana's words, Monica had felt relieved.
──Ah, thank goodness...
And she was horrified by the fact that she had felt relieved.
Cyril's engagement would have been a good thing for him, since he was to become the next marquess. Not only could Monica not celebrate it, she had actually been happy to hear that it had fallen through.
"(...I'm sorry, Cyril-sama... I'm the worst.)"
Cyril was someone Monica respected. Why had she been happy that his engagement had fallen through?
Monica felt like the most despicable sinner in the world as she hung her head, while Lana furrowed her brows and fidgeted anxiously.
Amid all this, it was Clifford who spoke.
"Are you an idiot?"
Idiot was far too mild a word, Monica thought.
Rejoicing over the broken engagement of someone she respected made her the lowest sort of person.
Kindhearted Lana would never blame Monica. But Clifford, who had declared that he disliked her, would surely berate her thoroughly.
Monica deserved to be scolded and insulted. Determined to accept whatever he said meekly, she listened to Clifford's voice... but—
"If Lana ever got engaged to someone other than me, I'd do everything in my power to stop it."
"Wait, what!?"
"And if it were called off, I'd raise a toast."
"What!?"
With Lana's angry cries punctuating him, Clifford began making one outrageous claim after another.
Monica looked at Clifford in confusion.
"Why...?"
"'Why?' you say? You really are an idiot if you can't even understand that."
Clifford proudly puffed out his chest, as though he had nothing to feel guilty about.
"Because you wouldn't like it if Lana married someone other than me, would you?"
Then Clifford pointed sharply at Monica and declared,
"In other words, you like this Cyril-sama fellow, and you got jealous of the young lady rumored to be his fiancée."
Lana shouted, "Wait, you idiot!!" and clapped a hand over Clifford's mouth, but it was already too late.
"(I got jealous?)"
Monica's eyes flew open, and she froze with her mouth slightly open. Her face slowly turned red.
Though she wasn't sick, her heart pounded loudly, her pulse went haywire, and sweat beaded across her entire body.
The cheeks she held in both hands were scorching hot.
"What am I going to do... What am I going to do..."
Clifford spoke to the bewildered Monica in a perfectly reasonable tone.
"For now, I think you should bribe the next prospective fiancé with money."
"Cliff, that's enough! Just be quiet!!"
Monica could no longer hear either of them.
The words "What am I going to do? What am I going to do?" spun endlessly around in Monica's mind.