No One Welcomes the Summer Fever (3)
“So that’s how it happened. That imperial princess really is headstrong.”
The day after our lord, Albert von Beletia, came home unusually late, he finally heard the full story from me. And as I’d expected, he didn’t seem particularly pleased about the situation.
Given that he’s such an upstanding young man, the only reason he’d come home late was probably because of his fiancée... If you come home after spending time with your lover only to hear that some other family’s daughter had run away to your villa, anyone would find it absurd. But considering that someone else might have jumped to their feet in outrage, his calm reaction actually showed he was being considerate of me.
And upon learning I was involved, he said:
“Just to reiterate, when it comes to imperial family matters, there’s not much I can do to help. Not from my position or status... If I meddle recklessly, it’ll only draw suspicion.”
“...I know. I’m not expecting much.”
“This applies to you too. Your actions ultimately reflect on me, your superior. Casual interactions are one thing, but stepping in directly would turn it into political involvement on my part.”
“I’m not in a position to do anything grand anyway.”
“Werner, then why do you want to get involved in her affairs?”
The margrave asked, as if circling back to the core issue. It was only natural to think there was no reason to step in if I couldn’t really help and there was no clear justification.
And as he said, even if I spoke boldly, I couldn’t be sure if I should dare move for her sake. Our interactions so far could be dismissed as mere student exchanges, but from here on, it was truly personal. Whether today’s escapade was a momentary whim or the result of some pressure she was under—without knowing her full circumstances, I couldn’t presume and act rashly. Even if she’d asked for help, considering my delicate position, it might be better not to.
Even so, I could only give this lame excuse:
“She looked distressed. ...Isn’t that enough?”
“...”
After answering, I averted my gaze for a moment. Probably because even I found it embarrassingly sentimental.
And the lord, who’d been watching me, let out a small “Pfft” and chuckled.
“First time, isn’t it? You trying this hard to help someone other than me.”
“Please don’t make me sound like some petty guy who only looks out for you.”
“I didn’t say it that harshly...”
He laughed heartily, then nodded with a slightly worried look.
“It’s a good thing. Being able to strive for someone else.”
“...”
“Good luck. I can’t help directly, but I’ll handle any cleanup from what you do.”
“I appreciate it, but I’m not planning anything major...!”
Still, hearing that much was enough. Time to do what needed doing.
With that thought, I clutched my head—still lingering with headache remnants—and stepped out of the dorm.
To make contact with the key figure in this situation.
Ludwig von Dennis, third son of the Neustria ducal family. The Dennis lineage was founded on the mixed blood of local elf nobles and the human nobles who conquered them, carrying that hybrid identity through generations. Naturally, the young man Ludwig von Dennis bore those traits.
His black hair was long, his ears pointed, his skin pale and clear in a pleasing way. The eyelashes shading his gray-green eyes were so long that, if you didn’t know he was a man, you might mistake him for a delicate girl.
If not for two glaring flaws, he’d qualify as a “beautiful youth” worthy of admiration from the female students.
The physical shortcoming: he was a full head shorter than me, making him look less like a man and more like a child. And the mental one: that pretty face perpetually scowled, viewing the world with cynicism.
“What is it, Hebel Baron? If you’ve got something to say, spit it out. Otherwise, get out of my way.”
A man who flouted the rhetorical basics—like not saying what didn’t need saying. Ludwig von Dennis. That’s why I’d rarely spoken with him.
Though I did know he used archaic speech that didn’t match his looks.
“I do have something to say. Got a moment?”
“I’m busy. If you must, make it later.”
“It has to be now.”
“Then speak quickly. The gist, very quickly. I’ve someone to meet already.”
“Is that because of your father?”
At the sudden mention of family, Ludwig furrowed his brows. He was sharp-tempered usually, but now his irritation seemed heightened. Still, he didn’t lash out.
“...Someone who ought to know does. The Neustria Duke despises wasted time exceedingly.”
“Even family matters get crammed into a tight schedule, it seems. Fine. Truth is, I have a proposal.”
“...A proposal? Sudden, but I’ll hear it. What?”
Not thrilled, but willing to listen, he said.
“To the point, then: I know why your father, the Neustria Duke, is here at Sponheim.”
“What?”
“Ah, no need to ask how. It’s my personal intel network.”
In truth, no such thing existed. It was info from personal “socializing,” so not entirely wrong.
And.
“I want to free you from this unwanted marriage. That’s my proposal.”
“...No idea how you know, but unwanted? Whatever nonsense you heard, you’ve misread the situation.”
He glared at me. His next words were aggressive.
“You even know who the other party is?”
“I do.”
“Then why think I don’t want it? Explain if you’ve got thoughts.”
But I could half-relax at his reaction. Because, truth be told... I didn’t know which of the Neustria duke’s sons was the princess’s betrothed.
This response confirmed it. Ludwig von Dennis. He was the one.
Half the battle won, I was certain. The rest was convincing him.
“...Grinning? Didn’t peg you for mad. Wasting time—be off.”
My lips had curled unnoticed; he reacted and tried to pass.
I shifted my gaze to his back and said:
“Cathedral holiday dawn, Sponheim’s grand park, under the western oak.”
“...!”
He froze as if caught mid-stride, whipping around like I’d struck a weak spot.
Feeling his stare, I walked a few steps to a quieter spot, as if leaving too.
“...Hey. How do you know that?”
“Said it was my intel network.”
“You dare surveil me?”
I just shook my head slightly, no answer, and took more steps. Now he grabbed me.
“Answer properly, or I’ll assume your lord sent men to threaten me. Speak!”
“Unrelated to my lord. ...Call it a personal hobby.”
Of course, no such hobby or network. Pure coincidence I knew.
That is...
‘If not for going to fetch my overdue lord two weeks ago on cathedral holiday and stumbling on it...’
And that day, I’d glimpsed another side of this Ludwig von Dennis. An elf-hybrid youth in the arms of a man two heads taller, coquettishly purring in the girliest voice possible.
“You... have a male... lover...”
“...This bastard!!!”
How’d such force come from that small frame? His hand clamped my mouth instantly. Those sparkling girlish eyes now brimmed with tears.
I raised both hands peaceably, shaking my head slightly.
Once he released me in shock, I offered reassurance.
“...Haven’t told a soul. Not even my lord knows. The witness is tight-lipped too, so no need to worry.”
“...Think that’ll calm me?”
“If I sought gain from this, I wouldn’t have sought you out to reveal it. Relax. I’m discreet.”
As the witness, naturally.
He huffed in lingering fury but seemed to realize clashing with me gained nothing.
‘Well... even if I say so, he’ll just get madder, but I’ve no grudge against homosexuals.’
Just using it for the current situation—sorry about that.
“...Fine. What’s your proposal?”
I shrugged.
“Simple. I want to pull you from this unwanted betrothal.”
“And what do you get?”
“I...”
I paused, pondering words to avoid inflaming him.
“...Gain a friend, let’s say.”
“A friend?”
“Not you, obviously.”
“I figured, you vulgar cur.”
He snorted, then sighed deeply. Heart pounding, no doubt. The reaction of one outed for a social taboo.
And rightly so. In this society, being outed as gay was no mere personal matter.
...Here’s where it mattered.
“Of course, you might say: what’s that got to do with this?”
In this medieval world where love and marriage were separate, a lover was no issue.
If undiscovered.
Let alone sell a chance to be imperial son-in-law for that.
“But from what I know, the prospective bride has a very fierce personality.”
“Aye.”
So quick to agree, I nearly laughed. I cleared my throat once and continued.
“Moreover, her status is unavoidable. Even if you hide it, it’ll be hard.”
I didn’t know how serious he was about his love. A summer night’s dream? Or a secret to keep forever if hidden?
“...Think she wouldn’t notice that?”
“Knowing and hearing it anew differ. And I’m not saying avoid marriage forever. ...Just dodge it now.”
“But what am I to do? I’ve no power either.”
His father pushed it; her family pushed it. He knew that.
To change the board, shift one side’s mind: his house or the imperials.
That is, if within the family’s game.
“Hence my proposal. Propose publicly to your lover.”
“What...? Contradicts what you just said.”
“No. It’s a scripted play. ...Shifting from family affair to personal one.”
“Do such a bold thing and...!”
I shook my head slightly.
“I’ll handle details. Orchestrate it right, and we can spin it as a mere mishap.”
Bombarded by the sudden pitch, the formerly huffing young lord’s eyes spun in confusion. Messing with his “personal” life: anger, curiosity, the works.
Seizing the mental fog, I pressed for assent.
Finally, a vomit-like sigh escaped him.
“...What manner of fool are you?”
“Hebel Baron, Werner von Hebel.”
“Mad bastard.”
At my deadpan reply, he responded in disbelief.
But after mulling, he gripped my offered hand resignedly.
“Tch... No choice.”
Thus, swear it: this was to protect him and his love.
At least, that’s how it was decided just now.
It might blow up bigger? Imagination.