Social Gala (2)
Reflections. Noble social parties are exhausting. I was little more than Asella's brooch—no different from a piece of jewelry, standing quietly by her side as ordered. Being her first time at such a gathering, Asella received greetings from countless nobles. It was impressive how she remembered every single name.
Standing there like a smiling mannequin, saying nothing as she instructed—it wasn't so bad.
"Young master, so you're the eldest son of the Gotberg Marquisate. It would be an honor to shake your hand."
"I saw the footage from the martial tournament. Lady Tanya the Sword Expert serves you loyally—truly a noble worthy of such devotion!"
"I heard you single-handedly cured the epidemic that spread through the palace. Ha ha, I'd love to know your secret."
Dealing with middle-aged nobles wore me out. Still, even if Neria had come as our representative, it made sense for them to approach me to build ties with House Gotberg. There'd surely be useful connections down the line once our business expanded. Father wasn't the type to frequent these circles often, so I needed to make a solid first impression.
"Oppa, look at these cakes! They're piled up like a mountain!"
Neria, forgetting her role entirely, bounced around the dessert table in excitement.
"My lady, you must try this Mont Blanc."
"This crème brûlée is sweet too."
She was steadily boosting our house's favorability. The noble ladies doted on her endlessly. With Boris and Bruno on guard duty, there was no risk of trouble. The old men could wait.
"No way, is that really Gotberg's young master? He's nothing like the rumors!"
"They say he's the Imperial Medical Office's chief physician! Even the First and Second Princesses are headhunting him—he must be amazing!"
"What playboy? He's a total gentleman. I should've met him when the marriage proposals came around."
"How did Princess Asella snag him first? The imperial intel network is on another level. So jealous."
"Young master, do you have any brothers?"
"Or cousins, even!"
"I'd settle for a concubine's son. If I send a letter to the Imperial Medical Office, will it reach you?"
I never realized the empire had so many noble houses. The young ladies were just as numerous, swarming in. Each one greeted Asella first, then tossed a line my way before leaving. Bound by her command, I couldn't utter a word—pure torment. At this rate, rumors might spread that I was mute.
Surrounded by the ladies and glancing at Asella, she seemed oddly pleased. Maybe society suited her after all?
Well, when Asella became empress, eight out of ten imperial nobles supported her.
"What is my weakness, you ask? Ahaha! The most foolish question I've heard this year, healer."
"Do you think someone like me could have weaknesses?"
"I've mastered every field of scholarship, magic, and politics since childhood. Even the social nobles lost their wits to my eloquence. Now they all know they've been outplayed."
"Why ask? So you can note it down and kill me next time? You'd have better luck shooting the moon from the sky."
No arrogance was unfounded with Asella—it was pure confidence, backed by her genius. She was probably laying the groundwork now, charming the young nobles. She'd have memorized their profiles like study notes. When did she even find the time?
"The next greetings will be in one hour."
Asella's guard knight stepped forward. Imperial family members had endless greeting lines at parties, so breaks were scheduled. Pulling away from the crowd, Asella sat at a secluded table. A servant brought cocktails, but I told him,
"Herb tea instead of alcohol."
"Herb tea it is."
As the servant cleared the glass, Asella grumbled.
"I want coffee."
"No. Wait till you're an adult."
"I've had it before. It was fine."
"You said you'd listen to me once I became your physician. Oh dear, looks like your Imperial Medical Office pass fell here. Whose is it?"
"Ugh, annoying."
Asella pouted, scanning the room before nodding toward someone with her chin.
"That's Lady Shvartsshubaiku. Today's star. Her father earned the merit, but her ducal house is set to rise."
"Yeah, she's got a crowd around her. The man on the stairs is the western duke."
"Right. She won't approach first—it'd look bad. I'm higher in rank anyway."
Even on her social debut, Asella had it all calculated. She planned to bend a ducal house to her will here.
"Hasn't His Imperial Majesty come?"
"The duke probably had a private audience. These events tire him. And it's a relatively young crowd."
"True enough."
"...Boring you?"
Asella fidgeted, asking me unexpectedly.
"This event? Fun isn't the point. It's important for you, Princess."
"True... but still..."
"What?"
Asella hesitated, lips moving silently before she clammed up.
"Never mind."
"Best to just rest during breaks. What they call spacing out."
"I know. Quit being so strict here too."
Since she was annoyed, I let it drop. Soon, music swelled and lights dimmed. Spotlights hit the stage as nobles paired off to dance.
"Do you dance?"
"Haha, not at all."
"...For real? What have you been doing instead of learning?"
"Studying healing arts?"
"Liar."
"It's true."
Hunting monsters, slaying demons, rolling through battlefields—where was the time for dancing? With the stage aglow and us in shadow, it felt like peeking into another world. Staring blankly, I spotted Rauga grabbing a noble lady and twirling energetically.
Suddenly, Asella seized my wrist.
"Come with me."
We slipped out of the hall, down the corridor, to a quiet balcony beyond.
"Music still reaches here."
"Yeah. Nice view too."
I peered over the balcony. A well-manicured garden held a life-sized goddess statue. A checkpoint in the original game. You saw them occasionally in the palace.
"Princess, know about those? Goddess statues give subtle beneficial effects nearby—like nullifying low-grade black magic..."
"Not now. Look at me."
Orders were orders. I dropped the trivia and faced her.
"Hold hands, raise arms."
I complied, and she pressed close. Her hair brushed teasingly under my nose.
"Next boom, step right foot forward."
"Pardon?"
"Boom."
Without warning, she pushed, forcing my step. Eyes down, I followed her footprints. Already lost the beat. Focused on not stepping on her toes, my rhythm tangled. It devolved into clumsy hoof-clops. Tap dance worthy, maybe—but this was a waltz.
"Hmph, you're terrible."
"Hey, I've never done it."
Asella looked up with a satisfied smile. She'd enjoyed tormenting me.
"Fun now?"
Her golden eyes caught the terrace lights, sparkling like jewels. Pupils were mana-rich zones, they said. Like swimming in a sunset lake.
"Somewhat."
It was novel, at least. Asella snorted at my answer, glancing down as she led slow steps. Her hair swayed gently. As I matched her, admiring, she spoke softly.
"Hey, young master."
"Yes, Princess."
"Got a question."
"Ask away."
"...Do you dream often?"
"Dreams?"
Out of nowhere. No clue why.
"And you? Sleep quality matters. Nightmares often come from poor breathing, like rhinitis."
"I... hear a voice talking to me."
"A voice."
"Yeah. Says horrible things I never would."
Probably the black magic remnant in her womb. Georg said the grand witch's soul and talent were implanted. From Camilla, so not entirely wrong. No expertise in black magic, but I knew the pain she felt. Soul, curse—whatever, it was a pathogen causing suffering. Something to excise.
I asked again, as I had before.
"Does it hurt a lot?"
She shook her head lightly.
"It's fine. For now."
"Princess, about the illness tormenting you from within..."
"Yeah."
"I'll cure it for sure."
She accepted my vow calmly, replying softly.
"You promised."
Her grip tightened in mine. Her fingers, slender even for her age, felt fragile against my own weak strength—like a rose stem that'd snap with a pinch.
Silence fell. Midsummer night breeze was warm, no need for a coat. Step by step, we waltzed slowly, time drifting.
"Your turn to answer."
"The dream thing."
"Yeah. Do you... have nightmares?"
Nightmares. Not a topic I cared to dwell on.
"Why the face?"
Had my expression hardened unknowingly?
"Nothing."
Since my first death, I'd flash back to those scenes in similar situations. More deaths, more scenes—exactly 101. Helpful for strategies sometimes, not all bad. Even in sleep; high chance of waking from dream-deaths. Fainting spared the visions. I forgot them quickly upon rising—couldn't let the subconscious ruin the day.
But sometimes, they hit during the day.
"Young master? You're quiet."
Like now, facing Asella directly. I forced a smile.
"I'm human too—nightmares happen. But good dreams balance it. Oh, this morning I rode a unicorn through the sky."
"Sky flight's Pegasus. Unicorns don't ride playboys like you."
"Haha, it's a dream."
Despite the jab, she didn't seem amused as usual—something off. She pondered, thin lips parting slowly.
Finally, the question came.
"...Then what's that in your notebook?"