Intrusion
There's no such thing as friendship between a man and a woman.
It's a line you see all the time on internet communities and the like.
Every time I came across that cliché, I always thought the same thing.
Hmm… is that really true?
Can a man and a woman truly never remain just friends?
I've just found the answer to that question.
That's right.
They can't.
Ilia—whom I had firmly believed was nothing more than a childhood friend, someone I'd simply grown close to as a kid—had feelings for me.
The moment I realized it, I could no longer think of her as a mere friend.
The way she took my hand, rested her head on my shoulder, ran her hands over my body… every single one of those gestures had come from affection that went far beyond simple closeness.
And once I understood that, the belated wave of embarrassment belonged to me alone.
…What even is love between a man and a woman?
No—what is love in the first place?
What the hell is it supposed to be that I'm losing sleep over it, agonizing all night long?
Without thinking, my hand brushed the nape of my neck.
The place where Ilia's lips had touched burned as if a red-hot brand had been pressed into the skin.
I was just resigning myself to the fact that sleep was a lost cause for the night when morning light was already spilling in.
I got out of bed, washed up, and stood in front of the mirror.
Dark circles hung under the knight's eyes all the way to his jawline. On top of that, he wore the expression of someone shouldering every worldly affliction imaginable.
I scoffed at the face staring back at me, changed clothes, and left the room to go meet Ilia.
Standing before her door, I drew a deep breath.
Just treat her like always.
Naturally.
I took one more steadying breath and was about to carefully turn the doorknob when—
"Achoo!"
Huh?
A sneeze?
I cracked the door open and peeked inside.
"My lady?"
"U-uh. Hilda… kngh."
"You went to sleep without properly drying off last night, didn't you?"
"…Yeah."
"Seeing how your nose is running, it looks like you've caught a proper cold."
"……It's not a cold. My nose is just a little stuffy, that's all."
Through the gap in the door I saw the head maid pressing Ilia with a smiling face. Meanwhile Ilia herself sat perched on the edge of the bed with her hair in a bird's nest, sniffling. Her nose and cheeks were flushed as if she had a fever.
Where on earth had the girl gone who, last night, had come to my room in nothing but a gown and squeezed my heart in a vise?
Ordinarily, the moment I saw Ilia looking that ridiculous I would have thrown the door wide open and started teasing her without mercy.
But I quietly closed it again.
Because right then, in my eyes, Ilia looked cuter than she ever had—cuter than anyone in the world.
The reason was obvious.
I had started seeing her as a woman.
Because I had finally understood that there was no such thing as friendship between a man and a woman.
"Roen."
"Yeah. Ilia."
"Your hand's really sweaty. Are you okay?"
"……."
Of course it was sweaty.
How tense did she think I was right now?
More importantly, I wished she would stop using my sweat as lubricant to rub our hands together.
Didn't it bother her at all that someone else's sweat was all over her palm?
"You're really okay, right?"
"Yeah. I'm fine."
I was not fine.
Not even a little.
Not remotely.
How many shameless things had I been doing all this time without a second thought? And so casually, so brazenly.
Only now did I fully understand the looks from the maids and butlers whispering and sneaking glances at us.
In their eyes, the two of us walking hand in hand wasn't some simple escort—it was a full-blown display of affection.
Ha.
Once I started being aware of it, every little thing got under my skin with no end in sight.
I had to somehow redirect my thoughts—
Thud, thud, thud—!!
"Hm?"
"What was that?"
The sound had come from the entrance hall on the first floor.
Ilia tugged me along by the hand, and I followed her there.
And then I doubted my own eyes at the scene that unfolded before me.
"Oppaahhh!"
"Lize?!"
Lize came barreling toward me in a flurry of little steps and threw herself into my arms.
And right behind her—
"You look rough, our Roen. Must be exhausting staying by Her Highness the Grand Ducal Lady's side?"
—stood my older sister.
Dozens of travel bags, enough to fill several carriages, were piled like a mountain at the castle gate entrance.
"S-Sister too? What are you doing here? And what the hell is all that luggage?!"
"Oh, this? We decided we're living here starting today."
"……What?"
"Bullshit."
"Hm? Bullshit? But Father gladly gave his permission, Your Highness."
Erika put on a deliberately elegant, refined smile, but her eyes weren't smiling in the slightest. They were fixed with murderous intensity on the two hands Ilia and I still held tightly together.
The stare was so piercing I tried to pull my hand free, but the harder I tried, the tighter Ilia gripped me and refused to let go. Her fingers only laced more deeply between mine—and at the same moment, my sister's eyes narrowed even further.
I stroked Lize's head as she clung to me and somehow managed to keep the conversation going.
"What do you mean Father gave permission? On what grounds did you get him to agree?"
"Just because."
"Just because?!"
"Yeah. A house without you in it didn't feel worth staying in anymore. So Lize and I went to Father and told him: we're following Roen to the Grand Duke's Castle. You know how it is. Father can't refuse me anything."
…That much was true.
Father was endlessly soft when it came to my sisters. Of course, the flip side was that he was correspondingly hard on me.
Apparently being born a son was already a crime.
"I understand that you've received Count Walter's permission."
Ilia took over the conversation.
From my perspective, though, it was deeply worrying.
Who has a conversation with their hand resting on the hilt of their sword?
As if the moment anyone said something she didn't like, she would cut out their tongue.
"But bear this in mind, Erika Kraus. The one who holds decision-making power in House Weiss is my father, Grand Duke Friedrich. If you wish to have what you desire, you will first need to obtain His Grace's permission."
Ilia's words were pure reason.
No matter how close the two men were as friends, living in the Grand Duke's household was an entirely different matter. Our father's permission alone wasn't nearly enough.
But my sister remained perfectly at ease.
"Then it's simply a matter of obtaining His Grace's permission, isn't it?"
"What?"
"I shall secure His Grace's permission this very moment. If you'll forgive the imposition, might I ask for an escort? Your Highness. I'm afraid I don't know where His Grace's study is located."
"That's insane. There's no way he'd—"
"…Your Highness."
"……!"
Goosebumps prickled over my entire body.
How could they not?
This was the first time in my life I had ever heard my sister speak in a voice that cold.
The fact that she had dropped the smile made it even more terrifying.
"I'm a greedy person, you see. When I want something, I don't rest until I've seized it by any means necessary. I've always been that way. And right now… I'm holding that greed in check rather considerably."
"……."
"Rest easy. I have no intention of drawing a sword here. Nor do I wish to cause trouble."
My sister adjusted the gloves on her hands.
"What I want is only one thing."
"…And that is?"
"To remain at the side of the family I love."
"……."
"No reply? Ah. You didn't understand again? Allow me to say it once more. The person who will stay by Roen's side is me. No one else but me. Erika Kraus. Haha."
She was smiling, and yet it wasn't a smile at all. If anything, pure killing intent rolled off her.
Cold sweat poured down my back.
Why was my sister acting like this?
Why was she so desperate to stay by my side?!
Sure, she had been at my side for most of my life—but at this rate, it wasn't going to end with me just kneeling and apologizing!
I had to seize control of the conversation again—
"Wait, Sister. Calm down—"
"An imperial messenger has arrived!!"
"Huh?"
Creeeak—!
The main gates of the Grand Duke's Castle swung open, and an unexpected figure swept in on a rush of cold wind.
A man dressed to the nines in a lavish, gaudy silk uniform that could not have clashed more violently with the scenery of the North.
Ice water dumped over the powder-keg atmosphere that had been one spark away from exploding.
The timing was almost miraculous.
The man who had suddenly become a hero for stopping a war received, as his reward, the freezing glares of both my sister and Ilia.
Cowled by those stares, the imperial messenger swallowed dryly, forced down his terror, cleared his throat in a desperate bid to reset the mood, and unfurled the gold-leafed scroll in his hands with a dramatic snap.
"Hear the words of His Imperial Majesty Wilhelm Sonnenreich, the Great Sun of the Sonnenreich Empire!"
The messenger's clear voice rang through the entrance hall.
"His Imperial Majesty formally invites Her Highness Grand Ducal Lady Ilia Weiss to the Debutante Ball held in the capital, Kronstadt!"
With trembling hands the messenger drew a splendid invitation stamped with the imperial seal from his breast, approached Ilia with the utmost care, and presented it with full ceremony.
In the silence, Ilia accepted the thick invitation without expression.
Then her gaze slowly drifted toward my face.
The eyes that met mine were… full of a kind of hunger.
As if this single thing was what she had been waiting for her entire life.