Friend?
"Now, come sit here, my daughter."
"Yes, Father."
"You two as well — come, sit. Before all this delicious food goes cold."
"Forgive my presumption in imposing upon your table, Your Majesty."
"Hmm, you are the daughter of House Charlotte, if I recall? It's quite all right — do sit."
A long table stretched out before us, draped in a beautiful crimson tablecloth trimmed with cascading lace. Upon it, the dishes gleamed, each flaunting its own lovely color and graceful form as though it were breathing, while overhead the chandeliers bathed the entire spread in warm, radiant light.
Scrrrape─ Scrrraaape─
Chairs scraped against the floor, and one by one, the guests settled into their seats.
"Yes, well... first things first — it's poor manners to talk with a meal sitting untouched before us, so..."
...
"What are you dawdling for? Sit, sit."
"...Pardon my intrusion, Your Majesty."
"Nonsense — there's no intrusion at all. Hahaha."
At the far end of the crimson table stood the seat of honor, and planted squarely in it sat a red-haired man. With a single word from him, the banquet began.
Clink, clink─ Silverware drifted this way and that. Forks and knives that seemed wrought of pure silver each performed their own dance, and the bite of meat I took proved tender rather than tough, boasting a flavor straight out of heaven. A seasoning neither too bold nor too faint coated every dish to perfection, while an array of vegetables and fruits whetted the appetite all the more.
"Well? Does it suit your palate?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Charlotte's answer and mine rang out at the very same moment. Perhaps no one would dare tell the Emperor to his face that the palace's cooking was bad — but this was no empty courtesy. The food truly was delicious, so much so that I found myself doubting whether anything I'd eaten before even deserved to be called food.
"Good, good — seeing you eat so well puts me in fine spirits. The cooks will be pleased too."
Unlike the Emperor, who smiled as he said it, I could not manage a smile of my own.
The Princess had told me — her father had invited me to this banquet. That my presence here owed not to any simple goodwill of hers, but to the Emperor's command.
Naturally. The ruler of this nation, a man with duties piled high as a mountain, who would not lift a finger for anything that failed to please him — such a man would hardly summon me for something pointless.
'...Was there something he could only say to me here, at a dinner like this — something that required the Princess at his side?'
If not, there would have been no reason to have the Princess escort me here in the first place. I'd assumed there was some separate, important matter he wished to discuss.
...
"And you two? Does it please your palates as well?"
"Yes, Father. Everything seems especially delicious tonight."
"I concur wholeheartedly, Your Majesty. A meal this fine is not easily found even at a duke's estate."
"Is that so? Heh heh. I did ask them to take particular care — it seems the effort paid off after all."
'...'
No wonder every single dish had tasted extraordinary. Faced with a request from the Emperor himself, any cook in the land would have had no choice but to pour out their very best.
'...I feel almost sorry for them, actu—'
"Jenison."
Just as I was offering a silent word of thanks to the nameless cooks who had labored so devotedly over these dishes — thanks they would never know of — the voice of His Majesty the Emperor sounded at my ear, along with the clink of knife and fork being set down.
"...Speak your command, Your Majesty."
"Haha, why must you be so stiff?"
...
Wiping the sauce from his lips, he let out a booming laugh. His plate, I noticed, had already been scraped clean — despite the fact that a steak far too large for any one person had been set upon it.
"A moment ago the seat stood empty, so such formality was only proper — but this is a private gathering, is it not? There's no need for ceremony."
"...I am grateful for your grace."
I dipped my head slightly and let the exchange flow on, nodding along as though conceding his point — but my bearing did not change in the slightest. However kindly the Emperor permitted it, the gulf between our stations remained. Ours was not a relationship to be treated with easy familiarity.
"And yet I am a mere commoner, while Your Majesty is the Sun of the Empire itself. I cannot presume to treat you with such familiarity — I beg your understanding in this."
Whether my firm tone — one that made clear I would cross no line beyond this — reached him or not, he merely clicked his tongue once and showed no particular displeasure.
"...Very well, have it your way. That isn't the important matter anyway."
...?
An important matter. Perhaps the very reason he had summoned me here — a reason that required me specifically, that required dispatching the Princess to fetch me, that required this very dinner tonight. I sat in silence, waiting for the words to leave his mouth—
"Father, whatever important matter do you mean?"
...?
Beside me, she tossed out the question as though she truly hadn't the faintest idea. Kiana Frabel. It was her.
'The Princess knew all along...?'
Well, of course — she was the one who had led me here, so I had assumed she knew. The reason I had to come at all.
"Jenison. I'll ask you point-blank."
"...Pardon? Yes... Your Majesty. Speak."
Ignoring the Princess as she murmured and fidgeted beside him, he opened his mouth slowly. His red beard quivered, and for an instant his eyes seemed to gleam — though that must have been my imagination.
"Jenison. In your eyes, what do you make of my daughter?"
"...Pardon?"
"Pardon? Father, what do you...?"
In other words — the words I had just heard must also be a trick of my ears. They had to be.
While Jenison was condemned to play the mannequin, shuffled in and out of outfit after outfit, hearty laughter rang out from another room.
"Haha, and you truly said that to my face?"
"Your Majesty... how many times must I tell you, that was all—"
The voices of two middle-aged men drifted through a russet-brown door. Ever since the earlier conversation had ended, the two of them had been trading stories as if they'd never once shown their tempers — like old friends who had spent a lifetime at each other's sides.
"So then — didn't you once scold me when I was young? How I, back in those days—"
"Your Majesty, with all due respect, pawing through a devout sister's habit was surely a step too far—"
"Oh come now, friend... when did I ever do such a thing? Hahaha..."
From the misadventures of the Emperor's and the Pope's youth to memories that belonged to the two of them alone, there was no end of things to talk about. Both had perched at the very summit of their own spheres of power for so long, overseeing all beneath them, that they had never once enjoyed the leisure for such idle talk.
"Haha... it's a rare pleasure, trading words with you like this after so long."
"I feel the same, Your Majesty."
"Hmm... with you, it might just work."
"What do you mean, Your Majesty? Do you perhaps carry some trouble you cannot speak of...?"
"Well, trouble it is indeed. It concerns my daughter's marriage."
At that, not only the Pope, who had been listening, but Luindel, standing in the room, had his eyes fly wide open. Marriage — the settling of a lifelong partner. And not just any marriage: the Imperial Princess's own. This was anything but an ordinary affair.
"My... I had not realized Her Highness had already reached an age for wedding ceremonies..."
"Truthfully, it is still a touch early... but then, it isn't so unusually soon, either."
...
"Nobles these days wed at even younger ages. What reason would my daughter be any exception?"
"Might I ask who the fortunate party is?"
"You know him as well as I — the man you met face-to-face only the other day... haha."
...?
"Well, at that level his ability speaks for itself, and the boy is to be ennobled soon enough, no?"
For an instant, the thought — surely not — flashed through the Pope's mind, but he hastily corrected himself. Their stations did not match, after all, and he and Her Highness the Princess shared no point of contact to speak of. They were simply classmates at the Academy. By that measure, if anything, the boy had more of a connection with their own Saintess.
'...Come to think of it, she has seemed to be waiting for news of that boy lately...'
"In any case, that is why... I wished to ask what you make of him..."
"...Th-that... is what you wished to ask?"
"Yes. Word has reached me that you and that boy Jenison appear to be on good terms. You would know him well, would you not?"
...
"Well, so long as his character is decent enough... his ability has already been proven... I'm inclined to think the match may be made."
"Don't tell me... the party you mentioned just now...?"
"Hm? You hadn't heard? It's that fellow Jenison."
'...This is bad.'
Even before now, it had struck him as odd that the Saintess — who took no interest whatsoever in worldly affairs — had of late been so curious about news of him. Curious enough that he'd begun to wonder whether she held a particular interest in the boy.
'It is all but certain the Saintess has set her heart on him...'
Had anyone else overheard that thought, they might have laughed it off as hopelessly behind the times. But alas, most priests of the Church were people who had offered their bodies up to God. Which is to say, in matters of romance they were no different from utter novices. Which meant, in turn, that even the most trivial gesture stood a good chance of being read as affection — even something as small as asking after another's well-being.
'And yet — a Saint chosen by the Goddess, and a Saintess — I had rather hoped to be the one to join them...'
The Saintess, proxy of the Goddess, and the Saint, chosen by the Goddess. To any eye, a perfect pairing, no?
'...It seems I shall have to step in myself here.'
"So, as I was saying... tell me everything you know of the boy..."
"Worry not, Your Majesty. I shall assist you with the utmost devotion."