Chapter 9 - Banquet (5)
Deltain's gaze sank.
His eyes were fixed on Agnes's face, and various thoughts were flashing through his mind.
It was contemplation. It was the kind of process he used to do quite often when he was still a doctor, to build rapport with patients.
A habit he had formed through training to overcome his weakness of poor empathy remained.
'Why....'
Why is she trying to dance? What does dancing mean to her?
What kind of thoughts might she have been having throughout this banquet, and what kind of impact does this event have on her?
Deltain tried to uncover the personality, the life she had lived, and the desires of Agnes Levadein that he knew.
But since she was always acting sly, he couldn't know much.
The answer Deltain spat out after not-so-short contemplation was this.
"...Just one song. After this, I'm really leaving."
An answer that maintained an appropriate distance, as always.
Agnes's smile brightened.
It was a beauty that wouldn't be an exaggeration to call violent.
"Yeah."
As Deltain stood up, a composition where he looked down at Agnes was naturally formed. He felt awkward looking at Agnes's face, so he turned his gaze away for no reason.
His gaze turned to the hall, the place for dancing. He thought he would just go along with it in some corner somewhere and then leave.
"Let's go."
The moment he said that and took a step, murmurs arose throughout the banquet hall.
Agnes giggled.
"I guess they find it fascinating because you're dancing."
"It's probably fascinating because you're dancing, not me. And can't you see? What's embedded in the gazes directed at me is awe. Awe for having cured even you and made it possible for you to dance."
"Are you showing off?"
"I'm stating facts."
Even while continuing those whispers, the two of them steadily moved forward.
Those who were in front of the path they were walking naturally cleared the way as if it were expected.
It was a path leading to the very center of the hall.
"We're the main characters."
"When flattery is excessive, things like this happen."
Deltain's expression was annoyed.
He thought there was no reason to go all the way to the center to dance.
Of course, Agnes's thoughts were different.
She didn't stop walking until the very center of the hall.
"Being the center of attention. I think it's quite nice."
"You'll get sick of it soon. Having gazes follow you around is a bothersome thing."
"We'll see."
The two stood in the middle of the hall.
"Do you know how to dance?"
"Yeah, I learned when I was young."
"That means you don't."
"I do."
"Just having theoretical knowledge doesn't mean you've mastered it. Dancing."
"If you put it that way, you don't dance either."
"I have."
To be precise, it was in the past, before he fell into this place.
The hospital where Deltain worked held large-scale charity parties every year-end, and Deltain had danced a few times to socialize with sponsors.
Agnes's expression became subtle.
"With whom?"
"Moneybags."
"Hmm."
Agnes let out a sound as if thinking about something, but she didn't ask any further questions.
As if he had not even a speck of interest in her mood, Deltain immediately placed his hand on her waist.
It was the basic waltz position.
The discrepancy of a waltz to a jazz song was still unfamiliar to Deltain, but come to think of it, it couldn't be helped. This place was a different world from Earth. Even if there was music with a similar context, it was natural that its origin, source, and development direction would be different.
'Jazz wasn't such a slow song.'
Jazz on Earth was a form of music played with trumpets and cellos to liven things up. The dance moves were also quite intense.
But the jazz here, unlike the instrumentation, was flowing in a quite slow and static form.
No matter how much he thought about it, it wasn't familiar.
Deltain opened his mouth while thinking such thoughts.
"Just try to keep up."
"Can I step on your feet?"
"No."
"Then I'll make a mistake."
"You bitch."
Agnes smiled and placed her left hand on Deltain's shoulder. Their right hands were clasped.
Ttak. Ttak. The sound keeping the beat was heard faintly.
Soon, their steps began.
In the very center of the banquet hall, as the two slowly moved in sync, other sounds gradually died down. At the sight of the man and woman looking at each other with slow movements, someone let out an "Ah" of exclamation.
It was as if only that place was isolated like a different world. Those present thought such things.
The alluring smile of the woman resembling spring flowers and the indifferent face of the man resembling a hellfire had such a picturesque aspect. The fluttering of the dress mixed with white and pink and the hem of the black tailcoat guiding those movements were like a mirage that only existed in someone's imagination.
It was such a beautiful and eye-catching scene that a dreamy light was hovering over the faces of the young lords and ladies watching it.
There was a question that naturally arose in their minds.
What words are their lips, which are moving now, spitting out? What kind of sweet words are the whispers hidden by the music sharing?
For them, it was just an imagination conjured up through only the scene they could see, and it was an imagination with a gap from reality.
"I told you not to step on my feet."
Deltain and Agnes were not in such a romantic relationship.
"Mistake."
"Bullshit. It's not a mistake, it's intentional. Do you think I wouldn't know that?"
"You're over-conscious."
The conversation hidden by the music is aggressive.
There wasn't a shred of sweetness in the whispers directed at each other.
There was only nasty mischief and anger towards it.
Deltain's brow furrowed finely.
"Did you ask to dance for this?"
"No, I just wanted to be stuck to you."
"You do everything except confess, huh? There's nothing you can't say."
"Because you're the one who has to confess. I'm just doing other things for now since I'm lacking."
Deltain crumpled his expression as if she were tiresome.
Agnes made an even more satisfied face.
"You know? I like it best when I see you this close. Because I can see your facial expressions in detail."
"Opposite of me. I hate getting close to you the most."
"Because I'm too pretty?"
"Because your smiling face is annoying."
"That's mean."
Even while doing so, Agnes didn't take her eyes off Deltain. She persistently stared at his gold eyes.
It was to the extent that Deltain felt burdened.
But turning his head would hurt his pride. It feels like he lost.
Deltain glared at her cherry blossom-colored eyes with annoyance.
Suddenly, the music changed.
A posture where the woman spins around in place while holding the man's hand.
It was an easy movement that even Agnes could do.
Deltain's hand was raised, and Agnes carefully spun around underneath it. Then she settled back into Deltain's arms.
"How was it?"
"What."
"Don't I dance well?"
"Because I led well."
"Compliment me."
The slow tune again.
Agnes moved slowly and waited for Deltain's answer.
It must be a quite pleasant tension.
Agnes thought that and focused on the things being transmitted.
The temperature of the banquet hall was warm, and the ceiling was high, so there was a quite refreshing feeling.
Ttak. Ttak. The beat and murmurs mixed under the tune, and the gathered gazes were giving a different kind of noise than the bedroom she usually stayed in.
It was an unfamiliar stimulus. Of course, it didn't give a deep resonance, but it was at a level that could be a momentary joy.
"Where's the compliment?"
"You did well. Happy now?"
"Yeah."
Agnes thought.
Perhaps the reason these things feel more vivid for no reason is because the person she is with is Deltain Hebron.
It must be the joy caused by the fact that today's event will be engraved in the moments he will live.
"You also took my first dancing experience."
"So what."
"Because I get the thought that Deltain Hebron might not be a Demon Hunter, but a First Experience Hunter."
What she wants is, as expected, his memories and emotions.
The reason she says such bizarre things was the same.
Therefore, the reaction that followed was bewildering.
For a moment, Agnes felt as if the world was slowing down.
"Huh...."
Deltain laughed. With a face Agnes had never seen before.
His face, which was always furrowed, unfolding is clearly engraved on her retina.
The wrinkles between his brows disappearing, the angry look around his eyes relaxing, the corners of his eyes curling down softly, and the warm look rising together turn into a stimulus she had never felt before.
Thump.
Her heart beat loudly.
"That was a bit funny just now."
His impression, which had faded due to the nonsense that made her lose her sense of absurdity, returned.
But even though it was such a short moment, it felt like eternity to Agnes.
Agnes's cherry blossom-colored pupils held a shallow tremor.
She began an action she didn't intend. Her subconscious began to chase the smile from just before on Deltain's face.
A longing, similar to that of someone chasing a mirage, settled in her retina.
But it didn't last long.
The moment she lost focus, Agnes's step slightly twisted.
The heel of her shoe stepped on Deltain's instep.
Deltain's face crumpled instantly.
"Hey."
"Ah...."
A sigh.
It was the name of the breath that came out of her mouth.
Agnes, who let out a sign of emotion because she felt sorry for the smile that disappeared before she could properly engrave it inside, was belatedly flustered.
A feeling of tightness in her chest rises. Doubt and fear surged regarding the emotions she had felt just before.
Agnes quickly turned away from it.
'Heart.'
It seems like her heart is complaining of strain.
She judged so.
"...Deltain. I think we've danced for a while. My chest feels a bit stuffy."
"What? You should have told me sooner...!"
Deltain said that, sighed, and slowly stopped moving.
And he led Agnes out of the center.
Agnes was still trying hard to compose her expression until then.
Her thoughts once again ignored the seeped-in emotions.
Of course, without realizing that nothing would be solved by that.
The dried-up emotions began to gain nourishment.
*
The banquet ended like that.
Immediately after the song ended, Deltain led Agnes out of the banquet hall and examined her, and sent her back without finding any other abnormalities.
The next day arrived like that.
"Count, a letter has arrived."
Deltain opened his eyes at Gerhart's voice waking him up.
His gold eyes, looking disheveled, turned toward the old butler.
The voice that came out was groggy.
"...A letter?"
"It's from Marquis Montvert."
"Ah."
Information about No.3.
Deltain realized that and rubbed his face dry.
"Leave it and prepare a meal. A sandwich."
"Yes."
As soon as Gerhart left, Deltain took off his clothes and headed to the shower room.
He finished showering with cold water that made him snap awake and put on new clothes.
His face was quite bright as he headed to the office, holding the letter that was on the shelf.
'He said it was a barbarian's tradition.'
If it's barbarians, they are the natives of the northern snowy mountains.
They were people who lived while keeping the legacy of the old era even while magic engineering and civilization had developed this much.
As much as they revere tradition and heritage, there was a possibility it was superstition, but it was low.
Marquis Montvert wouldn't have brought useless information.
Something that could be called hope began to rise within him.
On the desk in the office where Deltain arrived, there was a sandwich without pickles.
Deltain picked it up, took a bite, and tore open the letter.
『Tradition - Spirit that Counts the Winter.』
Deltain's eyes shone.