A Friend
The Baron.
The lowest of the five ranks of peerage—and the fifth of them in order, at that.
The peerage, you see, divided the titled vassals of the realm into five grades: Duke, Marquess, Count, Viscount, and Baron. Of all the noble titles, it was the one most commonly held.
And among those five, the humblest rank of all was the Baron's.
Never mind the Dukes, who belonged to the Empire in little more than name and might as well have been semi-independent powers unto themselves; never mind the Counts, who were in essence administrators appointed by kings or Dukes; never mind even the Viscounts, who served as those Counts' deputy governors. Below them all, at the very bottom rung of the ladder, sat the Baron.
Other nobles were fond of dismissing them as nobles in name only—country squires from the back of beyond.
'..Not that they ever stop to consider that even that much would be a godsend to the common folk.'
For to the common people, the title of noble was not something one could dream of attaining. Not lightly, and not ever.
A life with no need to fret over money, where others could be ordered about at will. A life where a man might take as many women as he pleased, rather than laboring from dawn to dusk for that day's bread alone. How many people in this world would turn their back on such a life?
"So, first thing tomorrow morning, we simply must get started on your grooming preparations—"
"Y-Young Master is finally becoming a... a proper noble? I'm... I'm so glad—"
"Must be nice~ A mere barony, sure, but you're the first of us to receive a noble title at our age—"
....
The thing is, I had never wanted it.
That kind of life.
"I... I think black would suit the Young Master best, after all..."
"This man is dreary and black enough as it is—for that day, at least, he ought to change the mood with a different color—"
"Hmm.. Your Highness, what do you make of this one, perhaps..."
How on earth had it come to this? This was hardly what any of us had gathered for.
It had all begun when Ella declared that now was hardly the time for such things and pulled several of my outfits from my luggage. The clothes I had carried straight back with me from the Great Forest to the Empire. The dispatch to the Great Forest had been a semi-official posting, so I had packed rather fine garments for the occasion—and now she had dug out the very clothes I had never actually gotten to wear because of that whole affair.
"Hm? And what might those be?"
"Ah, Y-Your Highness, these are... the Young Master's spare garments..."
"I have eyes too, you know. What I'm curious about is why you brought them here at all."
"The Young Master... is to be granted his title tomorrow... so I thought he ought to at least have proper attire readied... F-forgive me if I've overstepped—"
"Hmm..? Now that sounds like fun. Would you bring them over for me?"
Others might have talked their way around it, but Kiana's station was that of the Imperial Princess herself. A girl passing herself off as a mere commoner's maid could hardly defy her.
"Miss Shino?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Why don't you join us as well, Miss Shino?"
And the daughter of a house that had served the imperial family for generations was hardly going to refuse either. Ducal blood or no.
"Shall we see what we have to work with? Oh.. isn't this a rather fine fabric..?"
"Yes, it looks that way to me as well."
"Y-Young Master..."
"Now then, would you put this one on for us?"
....
"W-wait, you're changing right here..! F-fine, fine—just hurry up and change, please..."
And the same went for me. However great my deeds for the Empire might have been, ignoring the word of a member of the royal family was next to impossible. So I could only meekly do as she asked.
"Oho.. it suits you better than I expected."
....
"But can't you do something about that expression? You look like you outright despise every second of this..."
"...I shall correct it."
And so I found myself reduced to a department-store mannequin, meekly obeying her every word. For the better part of an hour, no less.
'..So there really was a reason behind the old rule: never, ever go shopping with women.'
"Ah, next, try this one on, would you?"
"Your Highness, I think this one would suit him as well—"
'..I'm exhausted.'
It was a hellish stretch of time—I wanted to rest, and rest was the one thing I could not have.
"Oh? It's just about time for the meal."
Only when those words arrived did an end finally come into view.
'Finally.. I might actually get to rest—'
"I only came to tell you that Father has invited you to dinner.. shall we be heading over?"
...?
"Oh, before we go—put this one on too."
Of course, even that stretch with the end in sight proved absurdly long for me.
'Hm.. it really isn't bad, I'll give him that.'
From behind the russet-brown door spilled the lively chatter of several voices. The Imperial Princess, born of the most exalted bloodline in the land; Shino Charlotte, daughter of a ducal house; and before them, one of his servants, changing outfits over and over. Four voices in all filled the room with a cheerful din.
'..Perhaps because his face is decent enough? There's hardly an outfit that doesn't suit him.'
Jenison, changing clothes before her again and again like some machine—such was the thought drifting through the Princess's mind as she studied him.
'When I first asked, it was only an offhand remark, truly..'
"Put this one on as well."
"..As you say, Lady Charlotte."
"Hehe, it suits you—can't you loosen up that face when you speak?"
'..It seems I spoke for nothing.'
She could still picture it: his maid first appearing with an armful of garments. Fine-looking ones, at that. Where had he—a man who now called himself a commoner—found the money for clothes like those? And why produce them only now? She had asked purely out of curiosity.
'..Well, Father did use the banquet as his pretext for circulating invitations..'
Nobles aplenty would be attending, and with them, the eyes of high society. In that light, the maid had simply wished for her master not to be slighted there. Barely older than Kiana herself, yet so brimming with care—the girl struck her as utterly endearing.
"..How admirable."
"Ye-yes? I-I beg your pardon.. I didn't quite catch that.. I'm so, so sorry—"
"Ah.. it's nothing at all."
"Y-yes, my lady..."
And with that, her compliment never quite made it out intact. Any longer, and the poor girl looked ready to sink to her knees.
'..There it is again.'
It had always been this way. People finding her uncomfortable to be around. No one ever showed it openly, but the discontent always leaked through from somewhere.
'Ugh.. seriously, that Kiana girl. Can't even get a moment's ease because of her.'
'Why me, out of all the girls there were? Ugh.. I can't exactly refuse the Princess either.. it's suffocating.'
'A-at ease, you say..? This position is most comfortable and pleasant for me, truly.. haha!'
The Eye for All Things—a trait that manifested only in the bloodline of the imperial house. A supremely simple gift, granting its bearer insight into the true nature of everything in the world. But perhaps because the blood ran unusually strong in her, other things had gradually begun to surface before her eyes as well.
'This one is.. pfft.. how long has he been balding?'
Namely: the inner hearts and thoughts of others, laid bare before her very eyes.
'Someone's in a foul mood today? Something must be weighing on him, I suppose.'
It was convenient, this ability of hers. True, it demanded a sliver of concentration and a touch of mana—but the sheer utility of knowing what others thought and felt made her consider it a blessing. Right up until she turned ten, that is.
"..Your Highness, please—if you keep running off like that, chasing after you is simply exhausting for us.."
"Heehee, everyone, follow me!!"
"..Haah.. yes, my lady."
"..Huh?"
That was the first time she had ever seen it: hostility, welling up and turning toward her. Back then it had frightened her so badly that she had sobbed her heart out—but these days it hardly touched her at all. No one in this world could be liked by everyone.
And yet. Like now. To learn that someone she longed to grow close to saw her as a burden—that still wounded her rather deeply.
....
Because of this status of hers. Because of this title, Princess. Those eager to devote themselves to her had only ever multiplied, and just as steadily, those who found her a burden had continued to appear—and she could watch their thoughts slowly staining over with greed. A true friend never stood a chance.
'..All I ever wanted was to make a friend.'
A person who did not see you as an equal could not be called a friend. It was a truth she had come to understand far too young.
"Try this one on too."
"..Yes."
'..At first, I thought I'd never grow close to Miss Shino either..'
The girl had insisted she could never dare drop honorifics with her, pressing formal speech upon herself—but her heart, laid bare, had shown that at the very least she didn't find Kiana burdensome. And from then on, as she remembered it, Kiana had always been the one doing the pushing.
'..As for that maid—regrettably, I'll have to save our talk for later..'
"Young Master, how about this one?"
"..Not bad. I'll try it on."
'....'
She watched him change once more before her. All it required was a touch of focus, and a pinch of mana. It was ever so slight, but her eyes felt as though they were glowing—and a moment later, words came wriggling out of his chest and his head. The words from his chest spoke his present heart; the words from his head, his thoughts.
'..A little worn out, is he? And.. a touch of annoyance..'
Piecing together every word that drifted from him, the sum came to this: annoyance, and weariness.
'..Ahem. Even toward a Princess.. isn't that a rather insolent thing to feel?'
"Young Master, just one last outfit—"
"Oh? It's time for the meal, isn't it?"
The instant her words ended, words came bursting out of him. Relief—and the happiness of being allowed to rest at last.
"I only came to tell you that Father has invited you to dinner.. shall we be going?"
...?
And once again, the moment she finished speaking, words leapt from him. Bewilderment. And despair.
Even after all this, not a trace of irritation or grievance showed toward her. Why? It felt like only yesterday that she had burned his arm to ruin. Her excesses had very nearly cost him both his hands, and still he had forgiven her. And even then, she had seen nothing of it—no revulsion aimed at her, nothing at all.
He had changed so thoroughly she could scarcely believe he was the same boy who had once clung and pestered her. And she liked that version of him immensely. Because at the very least, he treated her as a person—not as a Princess. Liked him enough that she almost resented her old self, the one who had branded him a villain and set out to put him in his place.
And then, before long, the thought came to her: perhaps, just perhaps, she could become friends with this person. No—she hoped she could.
"Oh, before we go—just one more. Put this on."
....
The kind of friend—the kind of easy, comfortable bond—where you could tease each other without a second thought.