The Strange Duo-Triangle (3)
Stirring the steam rising from the water's surface with her toes sent a gentle warmth soaking into her skin, loosening even the most intimate muscles with languid ease. Sponheim had started as a quiet rural village near the capital, but the hot springs here were the driving force behind its growth into an autonomous city boasting an academy. These waters had anchored wandering scholars in place, and to this day, they remained one of the key perks for students studying at the academy. It was no surprise, then, that the imperial family's villa—once used as a sanatorium—sat at the spot with the richest flow.
After a long day, soaking in the villa's bath was one of the few genuine hobbies Charlotte Laura von Ahenmetis allowed herself.
"……♬"
Her contented hums often turned rhythmic, the rhythm weaving into some nameless melody, but a cough from outside cut her song short.
"……Madam. Can't I have at least this time to myself while bathing?"
"As I've told you many times, Your Highness, true elegance must shine even without an audience to be a proper jewel."
A smooth yet low and stern woman's voice. It belonged to Baroness Kreuznach, who had served as Charlotte's maid for the past four years.
"The maids mentioned you went out on your own again today. Is that true?"
"I told you, Madam. I don't want you micromanaging every little way I tie my hair."
"It's not micromanaging—I'm merely advising you on your duties. No matter that you're a student, your position doesn't allow for such frivolity."
"……Sigh. Fine. We'll talk about it later. For now, please let me relax in the bath."
With that, Charlotte deliberately dunked her face into the hot spring until her ears submerged, blocking out the inevitable nagging from her ever-present maid. What difference did it make, tying her hair high or low?
"……Haa."
Only when the ripples had settled did she poke her head back out.
"I've heard rumors lately that Your Highness has been forming private gatherings with other students. Is it true?"
Four years in service, and the maid knew Charlotte's habits all too well—she timed her question perfectly. Suppressing a sigh with effort, Charlotte replied.
"Yes, it's true. You're not about to tell me a student can't hold a study group on her own, right, Madam?"
"If you've chosen your companions carefully, I suppose it's fine. But I hear you're associating with some rather high nobles…?"
"You mean the Margrave of Ruticia?"
"……Good heavens. You know full well how gossip spreads, Your Highness. Why take such risks?"
"Why? Because it's fun?"
The margrave himself wasn't the point—his vassal was—but Charlotte felt no need to explain that far. They'd criticize her no matter who she met. Of course, she knew the baroness meant no malice. After all, her own status didn't allow for such carefree living.
Still.
"Madam. I'm really enjoying myself these days. You know as well as I do that these are things I can only do now, right?"
"……I trust you'll conduct yourself properly. Even so…."
"Even if I cover a hundred flaws, the world will fixate on the hundred-and-first. I know. I'll make sure it doesn't turn into a full-blown scandal."
Cutting the conversation short, Charlotte submerged her mouth again. Of course, whether she was truly making such efforts was debatable….
Her thoughts trailed off as the afternoon's events resurfaced, curling a smile at her lips. But a strange question soon followed, leaving her tilting her head in confusion.
"Madam, are you still there?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Do you know what it feels like to be someone's vassal?"
"……Pardon?"
The question was so out of left field that an uncomprehending echo came from beyond the door. Charlotte brushed it off with a vague "never mind" and leaned her cheek against the tub's edge.
What came to mind, naturally, was the earlier encounter.
If it's just superior and subordinate, then Madam and I should feel the same as Baron Hebel and the margrave…. But I don't get that sense from her at all.
The nagging, the fussing—it was similar in intent, just different in focus. Baron Hebel and the baroness, the margrave and herself. If it were purely hierarchical, the equation should balance.
Yet that man felt… different somehow.
Could Madam really ignore the margrave completely and focus on me if he were there?
And with that curiosity, petty thoughts occasionally crept in.
Being with them is fun…. But….
If the fun came from him providing amusing things, why this faint sense of something missing? Why had she thought the margrave seemed envious?
It didn't feel like simple fondness. There'd been no such trigger.
I don't get it….
No answers forthcoming, Charlotte slowly lifted her head from the water. She gathered her thoroughly soaked hair, wringing it out in one long squeeze.
For some reason, she felt an inexplicable itch regarding that one person she'd never spared much thought for before.
On Sundays, I only went to the cathedral—nothing else. Because it was the Sabbath.
Nod.
For a devout believer like our margrave? No studying that day either. That'd be faithless slacking.
Sundays were for pious activities like cathedral service. I wasn't an atheist, but reincarnation hadn't suddenly filled me with divine fervor either. To me, Sundays were just a chill rest day.
"……You came back early today, though?"
Our margrave, Albert von Beletia, had returned unusually soon and now slumped at the table, hand propping his chin, face like thunder.
"Ah…. Something came up."
His voice lacked energy—not exhaustion, but deep contemplation. He winced, eyes shut, as if the tale was hard to voice.
"Did the cathedral insult you or something?"
"If they had, I wouldn't have come back. But I did hear something baffling."
"What happened…?"
I sat across from him and asked. After more groaning, the margrave turned to me.
He pondered a moment longer, then said,
"……Baron Hebel."
"Yes, my lord."
"Do we…. look like we're dating to outsiders?"
"………………??"
My brain stalled. What the hell? But the margrave's gaze radiated utter seriousness, so I mustered every ounce of my twenty years' worth of solemnity and answered flatly.
"No. Absolutely not."
"Hm. As I thought?"
"Whether or not, I'm not kissing my liege or anything."
"Ugh, just imagining it is gross…."
"……More importantly, isn't that the insult? Who even says crap like that?"
I was open-minded about tastes, but I had zero interest in guys. Neither did he, and this world's era wouldn't tolerate it anyway. In a time when "sodomite" was an insult, who had the guts to call the margrave one?
"Well…. It came up in conversation with the young lady."
"……What the hell did you two talk about?"
"No, the chat itself was normal…."
From what he described, this is what happened.
During their talk, she needed to take notes. He was the only one with a pen handy, so he lent it. Then Erna Skillpinggar Harpagri asked if he liked the pen.
As you might guess, the quill he carried was a gift from Erna.
She was probably slyly checking if it suited his taste.
"Well…. I praised her a bit, saying you'd gotten me something nice."
Oof.
Naturally, he thought I'd bought it, so he credited me. Then she got mad out of nowhere and stormed off yelling, "Are you dating your vassal?!"
That bugged him enough to come home early and sulk….
But she's not the type to explode like that…. She suggested the gift idea herself, after all.
Erna was hot-headed and bullheaded, sure, but she had her lines. For her to blow up at her own scenario….
"My lord."
"Hm?"
"Do you talk about me to her much?"
"Well…. Not never."
"Pretty often?"
"Often…? I don't think so…."
He pondered the past, then something clicked.
"Come to think of it, the day before yesterday, we talked about the practical lecture…. You're handling the opponent, right? So I mentioned you a bit then…."
Trailing off, realization dawned, his face turning grave.
"……Maybe a tad more than necessary."
"The day before yesterday? That'd do it."
"Seems so…. I thought it was just relevant talk, but it must've irked her. I should apologize."
More than necessary? What the hell did he say? Scary to imagine, but I wasn't touching that topic.
Instead.
"Um…. It's awkward to say, but about that quill, my lord. The one I supposedly gave you."
"What about it?"
"Truth is, I didn't buy it. Erna asked me to pass it along…. Not sure if she was embarrassed, but she said not to mention it was from her."
"What?"
Shock etched his face. I waved my hands defensively.
"So when you apologize, bring something small. She'll like it, even if she doesn't seem the type."
"Mm. Thanks for the heads-up. Better grab something now…. Any recommendations? Sorry to ask."
I wasn't a gift expert for girls, but….
"Well…. Don't you know her tastes? Anything she hinted at?"
"Never noticed. She doesn't bring it up."
She wasn't the whiny type to sulk over this, but still, tricky. And here I was, stuck in the middle again.
No ideas off the top of my head either….
"Well…. We've got time…. How about this?"
"What?"
"We're not geniuses at this stuff, right? Let's ask for help."
It tied into our study group anyway, and the princess wouldn't want bad vibes over something silly. Two guys with stalled brains could only do so much.
So we cautiously approached someone resting on Sunday for advice…!
"……I thought you called me for something serious, and it's gift ideas for Erna? No clue. And can I even pick…?"
"……Yeah, maybe not."
She'd joined wary of me sticking to the princess. This would just fuel misunderstandings….
Pitying our age-inappropriate flailing, the princess said,
"I can't pick a gift, but…. I know something good to do for making up."
"What might that be?"
Our margrave's eyes widened eagerly. Covering her smile, the princess replied,
"It's just…."