A Girl's Resolve
After calming Helene, the night had already crept close as they talked a little longer. Edgar decided to postpone meeting Yulken until tomorrow. Lying alone in his room, he felt restless and grabbed the wooden sword propped beside his desk before heading out of the castle.
The moon shone unusually bright that night. When he stepped into the rear courtyard, the guards on patrol quickly spotted him and asked his business. Edgar raised the wooden sword with a wry smile. The guard, who knew him well, nodded and let him pass.
He took his usual spot where he often trained with Creed and swung the wooden sword in silence, trying to empty his mind. Whoosh. Whoosh. The blade cut through the air, struck its target, and was drawn back only to swing again. After dozens, then hundreds of repetitions, beads of sweat began to form on Edgar’s neck and forehead.
“Hoo.”
Having brought no towel, he let out a short sigh and flopped down onto the grass. The cool night air met the chilled blades, and the sensation helped ease the sweat from his skin.
Thud.
“Mmph!?”
Something soft landed on his face, blocking both sight and breath at once. Flailing his arms in an uncharacteristic panic, Edgar heard the approaching figure burst into laughter.
“Pfft, what are you doing? You look ridiculous.”
“It was you. What are you doing out here so late? It’s dangerous.”
“I was watching from the balcony. I felt sorry for you coming out without even a towel or water.”
As expected, Ariel held a small canteen in her hand. She tossed it to him without a word. Once she confirmed he had caught it, she carefully sat down on the grass.
“Because of you, the guards are only watching this side now.”
With the heir of the Grand Duchy out at this late hour, their anxiety was understandable. Yet Ariel merely pouted and shrugged as if it were none of her concern.
“So I’m supposed to stay inside just because I’m worried about what others think?”
“That’s not what I meant… Still, I’m glad you seem like your usual self again.”
“……”
Edgar’s mouth curved into a half-smile, relief evident in his voice. Ariel simply gazed at him in silence. Then, without standing, she scooted closer on her knees.
Perhaps it was because he had been swinging the sword so intently moments ago, but a faint, youthful scent of sweat clung to him.
“Hey, hey, I’m sweaty right now. Don’t come any closer.”
“What are you talking about? When have I ever cared about that?”
“Well, I care.”
Messy hair was one thing, but the smell of sweat was another matter entirely. Edgar shifted sideways as if trying to escape, but Ariel quickly followed. Her actions were different from usual, yet her expression remained perfectly calm, leaving Edgar wondering what had gotten into her tonight.
“Do you have a thing for other people’s sweat or something? What’s with you?”
“Have I gone mad? I already said I don’t care. Why would I want to smell your sweat?”
“That’s exactly why I care! Ugh, you’re so frustrating.”
Finally giving up on shaking her off, Edgar hung his head in defeat. A victorious smile spread across Ariel’s lips. She usually lost their verbal sparring matches, so the recent uptick in her win rate felt rather satisfying.
“So why did you come out? It’s cold at night.”
“I brought a coat… I’m fine. I wanted some fresh air, and I had something to ask you.”
“Something to ask?”
Edgar had also wanted to tell her something, but the hour was late, so he had planned to wait until tomorrow. Since her matter seemed more pressing, he decided to answer first and speak afterward.
“What is it? Go ahead.”
“You first.”
“Me?”
She had said she had something to ask, yet she was putting it off. He had never even mentioned having something to say. So why?
At Edgar’s puzzled look, Ariel let out a deflating laugh. Did he really think she wouldn’t notice? This man.
“You thought you were the only one who knew me well? It goes both ways, you idiot.”
She added, “Your face says you have so much you want to say.” Then she tilted her head with a gentle smile he had never seen before.
“My question can wait. Tell me first.”
“Are you sure? That’s why you came out here.”
“Yeah. Sometimes it’s not so bad being the one who listens.”
Whenever the two of them met, Ariel was usually the one pouring out words. But tonight, she wanted to switch roles for a while. At her words, Edgar’s widened eyes returned to normal. He had agonized over whether to bring this up now—whether it was right to share a story built on guesses and assumptions as if it were fact, without even asking Yulken’s intentions. But before meeting Yulken, he wanted to hear her answer again. He wanted to know what she truly desired after hearing everything. All he had to do was support her from the side.
The story Edgar told was quite surprising. He had added that it wasn’t confirmed fact, but based on his mother’s reaction and the contents of the diary, it seemed safe to treat it as such. Strangely, though, no anger or sense of loss welled up. If anything, she felt a quiet joy. Simply knowing that Father didn’t hate her—that alone made the story more valuable than any news she had heard before.
When she fell silent in thought, Edgar patted her back, perhaps thinking she had grown gloomy. His hands were rough from swinging the wooden sword all day, yet to her they felt only warm and gentle. Maybe because she could feel the emotion behind his touch.
“You’re not angry?”
“No. Surprisingly, I’m not. I actually feel lighter.”
“Good grief. You really are something else.”
Big-hearted. Ariel tilted her head at the word. She had jokingly called herself generous before, but she knew full well that she was closer to being petty. This wasn’t about having a big heart—it was simply the natural reaction. If his theory was right, the burden Father had carried on his back was far heavier than the one she had borne. It was unfortunate that he had acted without ever sharing his thoughts with her, but perhaps that only meant he, too, had been driven into a corner. Even Father, who had always seemed so strong and coldly decisive, had faced dilemmas of his own. Though not all of her questions were answered, many had been resolved, and a new curiosity arose.
How had Mother decided to tell Edgar all of this? No matter how highly she thought of him, there had to be a reason to share such intimate family matters.
“By the way, Edgar, didn’t Mother say anything?”
“About what?”
“If I were her, I would’ve asked. Why you’re going this far.”
“…You really are mother and daughter. Gives me chills.”
Edgar rubbed both arms with a wry smile, his pupils dilated as if it weren’t an act. Apparently her guess had been correct. Yet his reaction felt oddly awkward.
“Umm… Do I really have to say it?”
“So you were planning to only tell the parts you wanted?”
“Hey, when you put it like that, I sound like trash.”
Hmph. There was no way she was letting him off after only hearing what he wanted to share. Now that things had come to this, she needed to hear everything he and Mother had discussed. Just what kind of conversation had they had to make him react this way? Her curiosity bubbled over.
“…Before I showed her the diary, she asked me. She wanted to know why I was going this far when I had no justification or reason.”
“What did you say?”
She had expected some flimsy excuse about not being able to stand by as a friend. The outcome was so predictable that she felt neither tension nor anticipation. It was like opening the final page of a novel whose ending she already knew. But when Edgar scratched his cheek awkwardly and finally spoke, she had to revise that thought.
“I said I wanted you to smile.”
“…Huh?”
Had she misheard? The line sounded almost like a confession, and her mind went blank for a moment. She wondered if he was joking to see her reaction, but the way he avoided her gaze and fumbled made it clear he was serious.
“I’m embarrassed too, so don’t make that face. Just listen. Anyway, why are you even curious about this?”
Edgar grumbled, and in the moonlight his cheeks seemed faintly flushed. This fool, blushing? Now she was the one feeling embarrassed for bringing it up. Who told him to say something like that? She had only asked because she expected a different answer. Then again, this idiot had always gone against her expectations with his attacks. Forgetting that, she had dug her own grave.
Meanwhile, Edgar tried to hide his embarrassment by feigning nonchalance as he continued.
“Honestly, I don’t know the reason. It just hurts to see you cry. When you smile, I smile too… So I want you to smile. Even if it’s just so I don’t have to cry.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? In the end, it’s for your own sake.”
The words came out sharper than intended because she was embarrassed, but she understood it was his way of masking his own shyness—emphasizing that it wasn’t entirely for her. This fool really wasn’t honest either. She had no right to talk.
“Hearing that, it sounds like a confession.”
“Confession, my foot. Go get some more sleep.”
“It’s just my impression of what you said, you know? How funny.”
She turned away with a huff, feeling heat rise in her stomach. What a mood-killer. Would it kill him to say “confession” even as a joke? On a night with such a beautiful moon, even she might have accepted it on impulse.
I’m happy, but somehow it’s annoying.
She wasn’t a fool either. She wasn’t so dense that she didn’t know why her heart raced or why her cheeks flushed whenever she looked at this idiot. But this was her own stubbornness. She had lost to him so many times in the past that she wanted to win at least at the very end. That single thought had kept her from acknowledging him until now. She had lied even to herself and refused to speak the truth to those around her. That was why she had wanted to ask her question today, but it seemed that question was fated to remain hidden.
I wanted to ask what I am to you.
She had hoped that even this dishonest fool might recognize her if she asked. She had wondered if he, who had always treated her like a childish little sister, would finally see her as a woman. But asking Edgar that now would be unfair. He might be even more of a fool than she was when it came to lying to himself—he probably didn’t even understand his own feelings. So she could give him a little more time. Until the moment this fool brought her the cup of victory himself and could no longer live without holding her in his arms.
She had confidence, after all. Turning this clumsy man into hers would be an easy task. As the heir of the Robeheim family, she could overcome this small hardship without issue.
“Edgar.”
“What?”
“Look forward to it.”
“……?”
At her declaration of war, he stared at her with wide, puzzled eyes. What a foolish man. But how long could he keep pretending not to know? This war was one you started, Edgar. If she had known he truly felt nothing for her, she could have kept lying to herself forever. But his earlier words had shown a crack. And they had given her motivation. So she had to respond in kind.
Of course, she had no intention of seducing him outright. He would remain her silly childhood friend, and she wouldn’t suddenly throw herself into his arms. But it would be fine to shift his perception of her from “a friend I want to cherish” to “a woman I want to cherish.” That wasn’t frivolous—it was simply proper conduct as a lady. She would only let her fragrance drift so that he would come to her first. Like a flower and a bee.
“Edgar.”
“What now?”
His voice rose slightly at being called the same way again, but it quickly softened at what followed.
“Thank you. No matter how this ends… I really wanted to say that.”
“…Yeah.”
Blending into the mood, she gently placed her hand over his, which rested on the grass. This much was something friends could do—something that needed to be said. Besides, simply making him see her again up close already held meaning. She only hoped that in the end, she would be the one standing as the victor.
With that fervent wish in her heart, she surrendered herself to the blowing wind. Even after hearing such an astonishing story, her heartbeat remained strangely calm.
Thump. Thump.
“Why are you shaking so much? Are you cold?”
“B-be quiet! You idiot!”
…Anyway, it was peaceful.