The Words She Wanted to Hear
The words she had longed to hear made the meal satisfying enough even for Ariel’s refined palate. The spices were used with restraint, leaving the flavors clean and subtly layered, which pleased her tongue. With their stomachs pleasantly full and the breeze just right, the two decided to linger a little longer before moving on—partly to finish the conversation they had started.
“The food was good, wasn’t it?”
“Hmph… Well, it wasn’t bad. For a place you picked.”
Getting even a single word of praise out of her seemed to wound her pride. The daughter of a grand ducal house apparently held her standards far higher than Edgar could ever guess. She tried to play it off, yet the faint smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. Catching the sight from the corner of his eye, Edgar’s own mouth curved into a matching arc. It would be a shame to let the moment pass without a little teasing.
“Ah, right. On the way here, I ran into some of your family’s guards.”
“What did you talk about?”
Whenever the two of them met, Ariel was usually the one to steer the conversation. His sudden shift to everyday chatter made her ears perk up.
“You know I train every morning, right?”
“Yes.”
“Turns out the guards who happen to be on patrol or have a free moment sometimes come to watch.”
It wasn’t news to her. She had never heard it directly from him, but she had occasionally glimpsed him training through the window or caught snippets from Shuri. Still, she didn’t want to show that she already knew, so she gave a small nod as if hearing it for the first time. Edgar, too caught up in his plan to tease her, failed to notice.
“After I finish sparring, I usually sit with them for a bit before heading back to the barracks.”
“And then?”
“So today, like always, I was sitting there when Creed gave me a look. Said you wanted to meet.”
It wasn’t a lie, yet hearing it aloud made Ariel oddly self-conscious. She felt like some frivolous girl who had thrown herself at a man focused on his training. No, this is all his fault for not coming to see me for three whole days. She had done nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing.
“Anyway, once I got the message, I tried to get up right away, but the guards asked where I was rushing off to. They wondered if I’d gotten myself a girlfriend.”
“A—a girlfriend…!?”
The single word sent a flush racing across Ariel’s face, turning it the same vivid red as her hair. Which reckless soldier had dared to say such a thing? A girlfriend—there were limits to overstepping one’s station. Of course, if he were the one begging, I might consider it once… But it would only ever be “consideration.” Never acceptance. An opportunity to wed the proud daughter of House Robeheim would not come so easily. If she ever learned that soldier’s name, she would summon him at once and punish him severely. The whole experience was thoroughly unpleasant.
“S-so… what did you say?”
Surely he hadn’t agreed. Ariel asked in a voice laced with unease—not anticipation, definitely unease—while silently vowing to turn him into pulp if he had answered in the affirmative. The heat radiating from her glare cooled instantly at his short reply.
“What else? I told them no, of course.”
“……”
Only one thought occupied her mind. Of course he did. It wasn’t anger, nor rage, nor humiliation—just a hollow, indescribable feeling. If she had to name it, perhaps disappointment came closest. Or maybe not even that. Simply the quiet confirmation that everything had unfolded exactly as expected.
“…So what happened after that?”
“Nothing much. They asked if she was pretty, so I answered them.”
“Hmph. I can already guess what you said.”
No doubt he had claimed she was plain, or looked like a wild tomboy, or some other string of insults. After all, she had not once heard him call her pretty since she was ten years old—and even then, it had only come after she jabbed him in the side. Since she expected nothing, she didn’t bother asking what he had actually said. She simply turned her head away and took a sip of the tea she had ordered after the meal.
Watching her, Edgar’s lips curved into a mischievous smile. It was true he hadn’t called her pretty, but he hadn’t insulted her either. Perhaps it was time to tell her the truth.
“Actually, I didn’t say she was pretty. I just said she was kind of cute.”
“C-cute…!?”
Ariel swallowed the rest of her words, her expression just as flustered as when she had heard “girlfriend.” Her face, once again scarlet, made her feelings perfectly clear.
“Pfft, why are you so surprised?”
“W-who are you calling cute! I told you not to treat me like a child!”
The future ruler of the North, being called cute? There were limits to nonsense. If she let this slide, he would only grow bolder next time. Ariel decided to uproot the problem here and now, steam practically billowing from her as she lunged at him.
“If I’d just said ‘No, she’s not pretty,’ the mood would’ve gone cold. So I gave them a softer answer.”
But who was Edgar? The boy who had spent nearly thirteen years soothing and reasoning with this very spoiled young lady. He was an expert at handling children. A situation like this was nothing; he could deflect it without so much as blinking.
“You could have just said she was pretty… What’s with ‘cute’? It’s annoying.”
“Still, a compliment is better than an insult, isn’t it?”
“Ugh, it feels worse than an insult, you idiot!”
Honestly, if she had to choose between good and bad feelings, it leaned toward the good side. It was still a compliment, after all, and she had always felt secretly pleased—though embarrassed—whenever her mother called her cute. Yet an inexplicable discomfort lingered in her chest. The strange sensation, one even Ariel herself could not name, left her flustered and restless.
Meanwhile, Edgar only laughed harder at her scolding. If she had been an ordinary girl his age, calling her cute might have felt awkward, but because she still felt more like a little sister to him, the word came easily. Of course, if he ever said it to her face, sparks would probably fly from her hands.
“All right, all right. Next time someone asks, I’ll say she’s pretty. So calm down already.”
“It’s even more annoying when it feels like you’re doing me a favor…!?”
Compliments were supposed to come from the heart. What meaning did empty praise hold? Ariel’s anger flared anew at his coaxing tone, and she slammed her hand down on the table.
Honestly, with standards that high, I almost pity the woman who ends up marrying him. Despite everything, whenever she had gone out holding her parents’ hands as a child, she had always—without fail—received admiring glances from boys her age. Ariel knew exactly how she looked and how it affected others. Yet this man always approached her with complete nonchalance, never the slightest hint of a racing heart. Had his tastes gone astray? Or perhaps his standards of beauty were simply different? Countless thoughts tormented her, but no answer came.
“Stop sulking and let’s get going. I’m treating you to something nice today.”
“No thanks. Do I look like a child to you?”
He was always like this. Did he really think a little coaxing would make her fold completely? Well, there had been a time when it worked, but now she had to make it clear that those days were long gone. Ariel turned her head sharply, refusing to meet his eyes, her lips jutting out in a clear declaration of war.
Just try and get up. If he dared to butter her up now with empty compliments, she would burn him to ashes. She refused to be swayed by such hollow flattery.
“Hey, Ariel. Look at me for a second.”
“…What.”
Edgar circled the table and crouched down in front of her, trying to catch her gaze as she sat like an unyielding statue. Ariel did her best to look away, determined not to fall for his tricks, but a single sentence shattered her resolve in an instant.
“You don’t actually think I don’t find you pretty, do you?”
“……?”
What? Had she misheard? The way he spoke made it sound as though he did think she was pretty. Her head whipped toward him so fast it nearly gave her whiplash.
“Wait, you really thought that?”
The red eyes staring silently back at him left Edgar flustered instead. What a foolish girl. Did she really believe he was blind, or that he lacked the sense to tell whether she was beautiful or not?
“Th-then… do you think I’m… pretty?”
“Good grief. So it really was true. You really are something else.”
Without giving a direct answer, Edgar chuckled and reached out his hand. Startled by the sudden gesture, Ariel hesitated before carefully placing her left hand on top of his. His smile deepened.
“How am I supposed to call a friend pretty? I know you’re pretty—I just don’t say it out loud.”
“D-do you really… think I’m pretty? Me?”
The sight of her lips trembling in disbelief made Edgar laugh helplessly.
“You’ve got no shame. If you’d looked in a mirror even once in your life, you wouldn’t be worrying about this.”
“Ugh, it’s because you’ve never said anything like that before…!”
Who exactly was she blaming? Even if not every time they met, if he had told her she was pretty just once a year, none of this would have happened. Yet he calmly shifted the blame onto her, leaving Ariel speechless. They might not be lovers, but after nearly thirteen years as childhood friends, surely a single compliment wasn’t too much to ask. It wasn’t that her standards were too high—it was that his consideration was smaller than a grain of rice.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. Even if we’re friends, I could’ve said it at least once. Right?”
“See? You knew all along…! You idiot!”
She felt like she might cry from sheer indignation, but she barely held it back. Honestly, right now it was harder to control the muscles around her mouth that wanted to grin at the word “pretty” than it was to hold back tears.
“Come on, don’t cry on such a nice day. We still have plenty of time—let’s go have some fun, my pretty little troublemaker of a lady.”
“A-again…! You added something weird!”
Would it kill him to just say “pretty lady”? Still, she suspected this was his way of deflecting his own embarrassment, so she swallowed her rising anger and let him pull her to her feet. She followed after him with her head bowed low, mortified by the memory of how she had just behaved.
“So, pretty lady, since we’ve eaten, want to go get something sweet?”
“…No. You can’t even eat sweets anyway.”
And stop calling me “pretty lady.” Ariel cut off his playful nickname with a single sharp remark. Edgar merely shrugged and went back to treating her as usual, only for her to quietly slip her hand around his right arm a moment later.
“Still… once a year or so… you could say it, right? Even if we’re just friends.”
Her sudden demand, delivered with her chin lifted, left Edgar momentarily blank before his usual grin returned. The guy who probably heard “pretty” dozens of times a day from others—why was he asking her for it? Still, it wasn’t a difficult request, so he nodded readily.
“If I’m feeling generous, I could manage once every three months.”
“…That’s enough for now. Hearing it too often would make it lose meaning anyway.”
For now? To Edgar’s ears, it sounded suspiciously like she planned to demand it more frequently later. Even I’d feel embarrassed saying it that often. He wondered if he had made a mistake, but the bright smile on her profile as she lifted her head washed the thought away. He would have to try harder from now on—if he wanted to keep soothing this reckless young lady, that is.