Like a Moth to a Flame (3)
Click, clack. Click, clack.
Amid the delicate silence, the footsteps of the maid, Serin, and myself sounded conspicuously loud. Shielded by the mask, I took the opportunity to steal a quiet glance at Serin. Her face was a contradictory tangle of discontent and anticipation.
As I covertly observed her, we arrived at the dining hall, where the Baroness greeted us with a gentle smile.
"Welcome. Knowing you must be famished, I asked them to prepare things quickly, though I'm afraid the spread turned out rather modest as a result. Please forgive the discourtesy."
It was almost certainly an excuse. Her usual meals were likely far lighter and more modest than this. Given an unofficial visit from none other than an Imperial Princess, she had undoubtedly increased the number of dishes.
"I don't mind at all. Honestly, just grilled pork neck is more than enough to fill me up."
"My goodness, you certainly have a way with jokes."
Serin had not been joking in the slightest, yet the Baroness waved her hands in earnest amusement. She could only react that way because she had no idea the princess was mistreated in the Imperial Palace. Who would dare suspect she was an isolated soul with nowhere to lean?
And so their pleasantries drifted along on a current of misunderstandings. At the Baroness's invitation, Serin and I took our designated seats.
The scraping slice of dinner knives. Prim, restrained table manners. The warmth of soup. Once the first course of the dinner had run its cycle, the Baroness broached the silence in a calm tone.
"If I may, there is one thing I would like to ask."
"What is it?"
"Does... the gentleman in the mask have some particular circumstance? Watching you cram food underneath it is making even me uncomfortable."
"I know, right? It makes me uncomfortable too. Just take it off this once, Rian."
"I apologize. If it causes an imposition, I shall conclude my meal here."
I offered a remorseful apology. Serin flinched as though about to leap out of her seat, hurriedly raising her voice.
"N-No...! I was joking, just joking! They say you don't even bother a dog while it's eating, so why am I pestering you... haha."
Serin's sudden about-face seemed to astonish the Baroness. Her gaze darted between the two of us before she gave a slow, deliberate nod.
"If the... young lady has no complaints, then I shall pay it no mind."
"Thank you for your understanding."
It would have been terribly awkward for the Baroness to press the issue when the princess herself had smoothed it over. Even so, laden with guilt, I merely picked at my food before quietly setting my utensils down.
Just then, the Baroness cleared her throat to draw our attention.
"Ahem. I heard earlier that the two of you were subjected to unfair treatment."
Serin's eyes flashed—the same defiant gleam she had worn when receiving the dinner invitation.
"That's right! You wouldn't believe how far that gatekeeper overstepped his authority... Those men aren't part of your household staff, are they?"
"He is a member of the mercenary band under contract to guard the estate and maintain order in the village. Allow me to apologize on his behalf for his insolence."
"From what I saw, they seem like a whole bundle of trouble... Shouldn't you reconsider employing them?"
Serin asked pointedly, lingering resentment over her mistreatment still coloring her words. But the Baroness only gave a troubled smile.
"To be honest... I was surprised when I received the report. They are such gentlemen that they have a wonderful reputation among the villagers. I cannot imagine why he would act that way..."
"Excuse me? Gentlemen? Him...?"
"It is natural that you find it hard to believe, but I am quite bewildered myself. That is why I worry there may have been some misunderstanding."
"Are you... doubting us?"
Beneath the slight tremble in Serin's voice, indignation reared its head. She seemed to be chewing over the blatant injustice she had suffered like a piece of tough meat.
"Though I am well aware it is discourteous, permit me to speak frankly. I do not wish to distrust my own people whom I have watched for so long."
"Ha."
Did she dismiss Serin's grievance as the spoiled complaint of an imperial princess raised in luxury? Or was she genuinely blinded by whatever faith the mercenaries had inspired in her?
As I weighed the possibilities, a peculiar dissonance in the Baroness's words caught my attention.
She doesn't wish to distrust 'her own people' whom she has watched for so long?
At the end of the day, mercenaries were drifters, floating like duckweed. Their ties were purely transactional, bound by coin for inter-domain skirmishes, international conflicts, ceremonial escort, or menial chores. Loyalty and affection between an employer and such hired swords were alien concepts. In fact, I had never once heard of an employer developing an attachment to them. That was only natural, given how rarely such an outfit produced individuals pleasant to be around. One was fortunate if the employer didn't treat them as mere expendable tools.
What makes it even stranger is that she knows Serin's true identity as a princess, yet persists like this... What on earth is clouding her vision?
While I turned the question over in my mind, the Baroness continued.
"Therefore, I would like the two of you to speak directly with the person responsible for this matter... Would that be acceptable?"
I kept silent, and Serin, after a brief pause, agreed.
"...Fine. I'll accept for now."
"Thank you for your gracious decision."
The Baroness pulled a servant's bell cord hanging near the table. Shortly thereafter, a knock sounded at the dining hall door. Upon her permission, the newcomer strode toward her with an elegant, composed gait.
"I am sorry for calling on you so suddenly, Lude."
"As a man in your employ, Baroness, I am merely fulfilling my duty."
True to her description, his tone was impeccably courteous.
Lude was a man whose swept-back brown hair accentuated his sharp, distinct features. His striking good looks and the lean, powerful musculature of his forearms enhanced his masculine appeal to the fullest. When the Baroness smiled at him, a bashful blush tinged her cheeks—the unmistakable crimson of secret affection.
"He is the captain of the mercenary band responsible for the estate's security. Lately, he has also managed the household affairs with utmost fairness, earning my deepest trust."
"Excuse me? Managing household affairs, of all things? Him?"
"Knowing my own shortcomings, I simply do my best," Lude answered on her behalf.
Serin could not conceal her dumbfounded expression at the absurd state of the Baroness's manor, which defied all common sense. Yet seeing right through the Baroness's feelings, I concluded that while strange, the situation was by no means inexplicable.
She is in love with that man.
I had no idea how powerful love had to be to blind a person like this. I merely understood that because no one was an infallible superman, humans could not always remain rational. I had seen plenty of people forget the ways of the world and ruin themselves—much like my father and mother, who had indulged in ceaseless tyranny and dark machinations.
"Look here, Captain. Are you refusing to admit your subordinate was in the wrong as well?"
"He may have shown a touch of irritation due to fatigue, yes."
"So you admit he abandoned any gentlemanly conduct and behaved rudely, then?"
"Well now, everything is relative. Discrepancies in perception are bound to happen."
"You certainly have quite a talent for packaging fault."
It was the first time throughout our journey that I had seen Serin in such foul humor. Lude's brazen, unruffled demeanor in the face of her blatant sarcasm and interrogation clearly irritated her to no end.
Watching her fight so indignantly, an emotion sprouted within me like a tiny ember. A small spark smoldering in my throat.
What does one do to resolve a feeling like this?
I had no idea. It was simply an unpleasant sensation—an uncomfortable heat slowly coiling upward. Roderick had once told me never to let emotions fester, warning that doing so would make me ill. This felt like one of those moments. If I ignored it and swallowed it down past my Adam's apple, it felt as though it would blaze like a furnace.
Without even knowing what I intended to do, I called her name amid the argument.
"Serin."
"Rian?"
That was all it took for the strange heat to subside somewhat. At this level, I judged that I could endure it.
When I remained silent long after calling her name, Serin, radiating palpable displeasure, rose from her seat.
"Phew. Let's go, Rian."
The one who reacted more sharply to her departure than I did was the Baroness.
"Milady!"
A trace of regret. Uncertainty over what she had just done. Yet an attachment she could not bring herself to abandon. All of these emotions tangled together on her face.
Suppressing the ember struggling to reignite in my stomach, I followed Serin's lead.
"Thank you for the meal. It was delicious."
And so, with a polite pretense of gratitude, that chaotic dinner came to an end.
"Ha! He's honestly one of the most shameless men I've ever met. Lude, was it? I haven't the faintest idea why the Baroness dotes on him so much! Talk about living down to his name—rude by name, rude by nature!"
Still riding the irritation from dinner, Serin grumbled as we walked down the corridor. Knowing the real reason, I posed a quiet question to her.
"What kind of person did he seem to be to you, Serin?"
"The kind of person I want to knock down and beat senseless."
"I see you are a violent person, Serin."
"Excuse me?!"
I knew it ever since she tried to steal my blanket. She was simply someone far beyond my ability to handle.
"Wait, don't you feel the same way, Rian? Am I the one in the wrong here? Me?!"
"I am not certain. Only..."
......
Crystallizing abstract thoughts into words proved difficult. My answer dissolved before it could form, buried back in my throat. Instead, a sentence I had neither planned nor intended took shape and slipped past my lips.
"Were you not captivated by his appearance, Serin?"
"Me?"
I had made a mistake. It was a glaring error. Yet I could not even diagnose what I had blundered or where I had gone wrong, leaving me entirely bewildered. While I floundered, Serin scolded me with a deeply furrowed brow.
"Are you out of your mind? Why on earth would I be? When I have you, Rian!"
"Pardon?"
"I asked why on earth I would look at him when I already have you."
"That is..."
Words failed me.
The reason...
Pure joy. That seemed to be the most fitting description. Yet why her words struck me as joy remained a mystery.
It did not matter.
For now, I simply wanted to savor what Serin had said a little longer.
Along with a single question.
"...However, Serin, you do not even know what my face looks like."
"If you know that much, you could at least show me once! Tsk..."
"That would be problematic."
Yes, it was problematic. Even if it was merely curiosity, that direct, unwavering gaze focused entirely on me was terribly problematic. So problematic that I was beginning to grow fond of the discomfort.
"Honestly... I should have stripped that mask right off down to the bone before dinner. Ah, my room is this way. See you tomorrow, Rian!"
"I wish you a pleasant night."
We turned in our respective directions. Though she had suffered an unpleasant ordeal, I hoped that by tomorrow, she would feel better. I prayed it would be a night restful enough to wash everything away and usher in a refreshing morning.
...
......
Such had been my innocent wish.
Regrettably, the sparks of impending turmoil were already traveling down a quiet fuse, creeping toward the very foundations of the Baroness's estate.