Chapter 91
Cyril Ashley was not, in general, the sort of person to take the initiative in holding tea parties. However, two days before the school festival, he rented one of the private tea rooms on the academy grounds.
The only person invited was his younger sister, Claudia Ashley.
Neither sibling was the sort of person to enjoy a friendly, congenial tea party together. In short, this was a secret meeting disguised as a tea party.
Claudia understood that as well. She quietly took a sip of tea, then spoke with a genuinely put-upon expression on her beautiful face.
"...So, what is it you want me to do?"
That was refreshingly to the point.
Cyril had no intention of making small talk, either, so he briefly explained why he had called Claudia there.
"Lend me one of your dresses."
Claudia remained frozen in place with her teacup raised for a full ten seconds. She did not blink even once, and Cyril began to feel as though he were sitting across from a wax figure.
After thoroughly stoking her brother's unease, Claudia finally spoke.
"...I never knew you had a penchant for cross-dressing, Brother."
If he shouted and stormed out, that would be exactly what Claudia wanted.
Cyril forcibly restrained his urge to yell, his cheek twitching as he spoke.
"Why are you assuming I'm the one who'll be wearing it?"
"Oh, didn't you know? In the academy's secret vote on who would be best suited to play Queen Amelia, the heroine of the school festival play, Bridget Graham came in first... and you came in second."
"W-what...!?"
It was the first Cyril had heard of it.
Across from the speechless Cyril, Claudia wore a meaningful, unsettling smile that made anyone who saw it uneasy.
"I came in third, by the way... Honestly, I don't feel happy in the slightest about making a list like this, but when I saw your name next to mine in second and third place, I couldn't stop laughing."
With that, Claudia laughed beautifully, but without a trace of warmth.
Cyril had not even known that such a vote had secretly taken place, and now he ground his teeth.
Regardless of the results, Bridget and Cyril, as student council members, had no time to take the stage, while Claudia would never take part in the play given her personality.
So Lady Eliane, who came in fourth, had presumably been chosen to play the queen. Eliane was a distant relative of Felix's and one of the academy's three great beauties, along with Bridget and Claudia.
However, Eliane was somewhat dreamy, a delicate and ethereal young noblewoman.
Whether she was suited to play Queen Amelia, who had been a strong, noble, and intelligent woman, was open to debate.
"...Then why did you want to borrow a dress, Brother?"
After mocking her brother thoroughly, Claudia returned to the subject at hand with an utterly indifferent expression.
Cyril had no desire to continue the current topic, either, so he cleared his throat lightly and explained the situation.
"Well... I'd like you to lend one of your dresses to Treasurer Norton."
The ball held as the school festival's after-party was, as a rule, a formal event. Practically no one attended in their uniform.
However, considering Monica's circumstances and personality, it was reasonable to assume she did not own a dress.
Monica was a member of the student council. She could not skip the ball.
"If Treasurer Norton attends the ball in her uniform, it will bring shame upon our student council—in other words, His Highness. Therefore, as His Highness's right-hand man, it is only natural that I make arrangements beforehand to prevent him from being embarrassed. It is my duty, and..."
"Apparently she's going to borrow one from a classmate."
Cyril froze for a moment. Then he drank his tea with strangely restless movements and gave an arrogant snort.
"I see. Then there's no problem."
"Obviously, none of my dresses would fit Monica... You'd look much better in one, Brother."
"..."
Claudia was unusually tall for a woman, while Monica was small, making the difference in their height far too great. If anything, the slender Cyril was closer to Claudia's size, despite being a man.
Cyril secretly worried about that fact. A blue vein bulged at his temple as he opened the sugar bowl with an expression of complete indifference.
Claudia stared at him expressionlessly and declared,
"You have 'I'd rather die than have tea with me' written all over your face, Brother, so I wondered what could possibly have happened for you to summon me... Hm... I see..."
"I told you, this is to ensure that the school festival goes smoothly..."
"You just wanted to see Monica in a dress that badly."
A heaping spoonful of sugar cascaded into Cyril's teacup. He nearly dropped the spoon into the cup as well, but hurriedly returned it to the sugar bowl and glared at Claudia.
"Members of the student council must serve as role models for all the students. I only made the necessary arrangements..."
Claudia was no longer listening to him.
She crunched through a biscuit with an expression of utter indifference, then suddenly looked at the vase of flowers decorating the table as if she had just remembered something.
"Come to think of it, what about Neil...?"
"Why is General Affairs Officer Maywood's name coming up here?"
"...What's wrong with me bringing up my fiancé? Anyway, is Neil busy again this year?"
"Of course he is."
On the day of the festival, Felix was the busiest person on the public stage, thanks to all the greetings and other duties. But behind the scenes, the busiest person was actually Neil from General Affairs.
Managing supplies and arranging meals were part of it, but whenever something else went wrong, Neil was usually the one who acted as mediator. He also had to stay in close contact with the heads of each department and share their information with the student council members. He had plenty to do.
When Cyril stated this as though it were self-evident, Claudia lowered her long eyelashes and sighed with a faintly troubled expression.
"...So you haven't prepared flowers for me this year, either."
"Flowers? Ah, the customary flower garland."
At Serendia Academy, there was a custom of men giving flower garlands to women during the school festival.
These flower garlands meant, "I want you to dance with me first at the ball." If a woman wore the garland she received, it meant she had accepted the invitation to dance.
The flowers and ribbons were often in the colors of the giver's hair or eyes, so anyone who knew what to look for could tell at a glance who had given the garland.
It was not a mandatory event, and in practice, most of those who took part were people who were already engaged.
"...I didn't dance with Neil at last year's ball."
"General Affairs Officer Maywood was busy."
"...And I didn't receive a flower garland either."
"And what of it? Those flower garlands are just a game."
Claudia tilted her head slightly with a doll-like, expressionless face.
Her beautiful lapis-lazuli eyes looked at her brother with a hint of mockery.
"...You really don't understand a woman's heart."
When Cyril sullenly fell silent, Claudia muttered without moving her mouth much.
"...Do you know how a woman who hasn't received a flower garland is viewed? ...'An unwanted leftover no one wants.'"
"That's just your assumption. At least men don't look at women that way..."
"That's right. Even if men don't think that way, women will speculate about one another like that all on their own... Isn't it nasty?"
There was a chilling coldness in Claudia's voice that sent a shiver down Cyril's spine, and he swallowed hard.
Then, as though trying to disguise the fact that his sister had cowed him, he opened his mouth.
"But you... At last year's festival, you received flower garlands from about ten people, didn't you?"
Despite Claudia having a fiancé named Neil, there was no shortage of men who came forward each year to declare that they themselves were worthy of becoming her fiancé.
Claudia's overwhelming beauty and intelligence must have seemed incredibly desirable to those who wanted gifted, beautiful children. The direct bloodline of the Marquis of Hiohn was held in high regard throughout the kingdom, after all.
On the day of the festival, men who believed themselves more suitable husbands for Claudia than an unremarkable baron's son would swarm around her with flower garlands, taking the opportunity to make their move.
"...I would never accept flowers from anyone but Neil."
Claudia looked at Cyril with profound contempt, as if to say, Don't make me state the obvious at this late stage.
Cyril felt slightly awkward and cleared his throat.
"General Affairs Officer Maywood is a reliable man. He probably didn't give you a flower garland because he was so busy that there was a good chance he wouldn't be able to dance with you that day."
It was easy to imagine that Neil had been considerate enough to avoid making a dance reservation when he could not guarantee that he would be able to dance with her.
Claudia understood that as well, apparently.
"I suppose so," she murmured, gazing vaguely outside with her lapis-lazuli eyes. Then she said, almost as if talking to herself,
"I don't particularly like or dislike you, Brother, but..."
"Where did that come from?"
"I rather like the fact that you give Neil the credit he deserves."
Cyril gave an arrogant snort and took a sip of his overly sweet tea.
"The only reason people fail to recognize General Affairs Officer Maywood's abilities is that they're blind."
"Yes, exactly."
Claudia's murmured reply was unusually gentle for her.
As he drank his tea, Cyril thought of a certain girl.
Student Council Treasurer Monica Norton was a source of concern for Cyril. Did she also want to receive a flower garland from someone? Would she feel miserable if no one gave her one?
(...No, come to think of it, there's no way Treasurer Norton would want to dance.)
Cyril's concern was obviously unfounded.
Monica, who disliked being in public and was bad at dancing, would never say she wanted to dance at the ball.
＊ ＊ ＊
The day before the school festival, Monica Norton arrived at the student council room, but something about her seemed strange.
She was suddenly flapping her clothes about on the spot while performing a bizarre series of steps.
"...Treasurer Norton, what are you doing?"
Cyril gave her a dubious look, and Monica replied with an awkward smile.
"U-um, well... I-I'm practicing ballroom dancing for the ball...! I-I'm looking forward to the ball!"
Those words shocked Cyril to his core.
(Treasurer Norton was interested in dancing!? Not only that, she was looking forward to it!?)
He had been certain she had no interest in it, but perhaps... Come to think of it, Monica had worn makeup on the day of the chess tournament. Maybe she had begun taking an interest in the ordinary things young women liked.
Nothing was wrong with that in itself. And yet... Why did it make his chest feel so terribly restless?
To hide that unsettled feeling, Cyril furrowed his brows and glared at Monica.
"...Don't tell me you seriously intend to call those bizarre steps dancing? What were all those days of training for?"
"W-whoa... O-of course I remember! Um, one-two-three, one-two-three..."
As she said this, Monica demonstrated ballroom-dance steps on the spot. They were absolutely terrible. When he had instructed her himself not long ago, she had been somewhat better...
(...Ah, I see.)
Cyril realized the true source of the restlessness in his chest.
If Monica performed a poor dance, it would bring shame upon the student council. That was what he was worried about. That had to be why his chest felt so restless. Surely that was it.
In that case, the solution was simple.
(If either His Highness or I lead, Treasurer Norton's dancing should improve at least a little... I can't trouble His Highness with this, so it's only appropriate that I coach her myself.)
Once he reached that conclusion, the restlessness in his chest vanished completely.
Neil watched Cyril get to work in an unusually good mood with a puzzled expression, but Cyril did not notice in the slightest.