A Hastily Organized After-Party (2)
This was my second time visiting Seraphin's guest quarters.
Not that I'd grown the least bit accustomed to the palatial imperial residence after seeing it all of twice.
The massive floor-to-ceiling windows that must have cost dozens of gold coins just to cut and polish, the chandeliers hanging in rows every ten steps or so, the ornaments studded with every gem imaginable scattered throughout the rooms—it was hardly the sort of place that suited Seraphin, who spent almost nothing on luxury outside of her maintenance allowance.
Then again, this was shared space for the entire imperial family, so it had nothing to do with her personal frugality one way or the other.
"So this is the guest quarters... It really is as impressive as they say."
"I can't help but wonder whether someone of my standing ought to be visiting a place like this. I do hope I haven't intruded gracelessly upon a noble gathering..."
"Please, Mr. Gwyn. I extended this invitation in my own name as a member of the imperial family—who exactly do you imagine would question your right to be here?"
"I see. A poor choice of words on my part."
"...Yeah, royalty really is on another level, right down to their lodging."
Even the children of ducal houses at most got rooms with a private bath attached to them within the dormitories, whereas this guest wing gave an entire building over to just two royals. It was the kind of setup that couldn't help but fascinate anyone seeing it for the first time.
All the more so, judging by how even Lizzie—a girl who'd put half the nobility to shame—and Ethan were both marveling out loud at it.
"Welcome, everyone. Seating has been arranged inside. Please make yourselves comfortable, and if anything at all should trouble you, do not hesitate to let me know."
When we stepped into the inner hall, Luke—who had been waiting for us—greeted and guided the guests dressed, for the first time in ages, not in her uniform but in proper orthodox maid attire.
Dressing the girl up in a maid outfit just because she was a heroine, and yet—she really was beautiful in it.
It hadn't been my choice by any stretch, but in hindsight, swapping Luke in as my exclusive maid may have been an outstanding decision.
"Please think of today as nothing more than a casual social gathering, and enjoy yourselves freely, everyone."
"Thank you for arranging such an occasion, President Seraphin."
"There's no need for such generous praise. This gathering exists purely for the sake of all of you, who worked so hard for the student council this entire semester."
...Right, fair enough. Everyone had put up with their share of headaches keeping the student council running this semester.
And yet... why did Seraphin's lines feel so strangely contrived today, of all days?
And the fact that she'd gone out of her way to organize some half-baked after-party at such an ambiguous time was suspicious in any number of ways.
I know it might sound ridiculous to side-eye someone just for throwing an after-party, but that's a criticism only someone who doesn't understand Seraphin's character could make.
As I've said before, Seraphin was written as a character who didn't indulge in luxury.
So she would never, on a whim, host a private banquet that cost this much. If she ever had spare money of her own, she'd probably donate it to some destitute family or an orphanage.
If she was holding a banquet anyway, then the reason was almost certainly connected to the Hero...
"Miss Lilith, please take this as well. A Blue Curaçao cocktail."
"...Oh. Thank you, Luke."
I carefully accepted the cocktail glass Luke had somehow materialized in front of me.
Once Seraphin confirmed that everyone—including me—had a glass raised, her toast followed at once.
"Thank you all for your hard work this semester, members of the student council. I look forward to working with you next semester—and perhaps for the councils of the year after, and the year after that. ...Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
Amid the pleasantly clamorous atmosphere, glass after glass chimed together in succession.
It was so peaceful that no one could have imagined any sort of trouble befalling us.
...And that peaceful atmosphere lasted less than thirty minutes before it shattered.
The crime: failing to anticipate the drinking habits of a certain individual who had never once appeared in the original game.
"Liliiiith... you're sooo beautifulll..."
"...Miss Auguste, I'd advise you to preserve what dignity you have left."
"I nevehh... knew you were suchh a stunning young woman, Lilith... huk!"
Dear god...
Lizzie had gone from composed to completely incoherent on her second cocktail and now hung limply off my arm.
I'd noticed something seemed off about her from the first glass, but by the second she was fully wiped out.
'...If I'd known this would happen, I'd have stopped her at the second glass somehow.'
Getting blackout drunk on two cocktails—not whiskey, not cognac, two cocktails—defied all reason, whatever her trash-tier alcohol tolerance was. That was the kind of thing that belonged in a novel or a game... wait, no, this is a game. Yeah.
Still, this was literally my first time drinking with Lizzie in my life, and expecting me to predict her tolerance was asking far too much.
"Lady Lizzie. You should rest for a while. There's a servants' bedroom in the next room, so if you could just close your eyes for a moment..."
"Shuddup...! Lemme goo...!! No one, NO ONE can come between Lilith and meee...!"
"Lady Lizzie..."
Rejecting Luke's helping hands, Lizzie Lyn Auguste only clung to me harder.
The tears streaming down her cheeks were slowly soaking into my uniform.
'...God, I want to just slam her into the floor right now.'
No, wait. What if I just knocked her out with a sucker punch to the solar plexus? Done right, nobody might even see it.
Caraham isn't here anyway. Should I just do it? Clock her one?
'...No. Restrain yourself. No need to ruin the mood on a perfectly good day.'
At the end of the day, I owed Lizzie far too much to simply drop her like a sack of potatoes, however shameless her drunken antics were.
She'd personally procured Understanding the Flow of Mana for me in the first semester when I couldn't have obtained it on my own, and I'd mooched God knows how many coffees off her.
And during the second-semester Hunting Festival, I'd put the potions she'd given me to good use, letting Ethan and me finish at a comfortable score.
Besides, as long as we were in the same year, she was someone I'd be stuck seeing for four years straight, differences in department notwithstanding. If I picked a fight with her now, the remaining three years would turn exhausting for nothing.
And, well, honestly, by my past life's standards, this level of drunken clinginess was about par for the course.
Someone latching onto you, whining, and being a general nuisance didn't exactly cause material damage.
Now, if a man and a woman pulled this, it would obviously be a problem—but two girls hugging and rubbing faces was something I could just about tolerate.
And come to think of it, in this world's cast, there were really only two characters you must never, under any circumstances, give alcohol to.
Nathalie of the Sword Department. And Agnes of the Magic Department.
The former was a sparring drunk, the latter a rage drunk.
Nathalie, the commoner swordswoman whose easygoing nature had earned her a sterling reputation, transformed the instant a single drop of alcohol passed her throat into a deranged dueling maniac, drunkenly shoving her blade at anyone within reach and demanding a match on the spot.
Agnes, meanwhile, became a hysterical chihuahua, shrieking at full volume for hours on end—cursing out her cadet branch, her main house, everything—until the alcohol wore off.
Compared to those two, Lizzie's drunken behavior was practically a gentle breeze. ...Not that I'd ever expect to actually witness those two drink in my lifetime.
...Hold on. Wait a second. Now that I think about it, I'm getting angry again? I may be Ethan's exclusive maid, but today I came here as Seraphin's guest, same as Lizzie, didn't I?
So why, at a gathering like this, do I have to keep doing maid work just to babysit someone else's drunken fit?
Maybe not the solar plexus, but a good hard pinch to the side wouldn't...
"Lady Seraphin, your guests have arrived."
"Ah, yes. I'll handle the introductions myself, so please see them in, Luke."
'...Huh?'
...Guests? Now?
They had kept their voices down, but the moment the words your guests have arrived reached my ears, a question rose unbidden: guests, at what was supposed to be a student council after-party?
The thought that Orion might be joining late briefly crossed my mind—but knowing his personality, if he'd planned a late entrance, he'd already be slinking around the party hall hiding his presence, not waiting outside.
And if it wasn't Orion, then who on earth would suddenly be joining this after-party banquet...
"Liii, lyyy~! Call me by my naaame~! You can drop the titles and the honorifics, allll of them~!"
Lizzie kept bawling into my chest at top volume, sabotaging my every attempt to think.
I barely restrained a fist that very nearly acted before my words could, forced myself to breathe, and answered as calmly as I could manage.
"...That would not be appropriate, Miss Auguste."
"See?! Lilith, you're still hung up on what happened back then, aren't you?! You said you'd accept my apology, but deep down you still hate me for ruining your clothes that time, don't you?!"
"No, that's not what I was trying to..."
...I take back what I said earlier. This woman was the owner of a drunken rampage every bit as appalling as Nathalie's or Agnes's.
Come to think of it, I was never going to witness Nathalie's or Agnes's drinking habits in this world—which meant the woman currently glued to my side was, by my personal standards, the number-one nightmare drunk of all time.
By the time I'd absorbed this revelation and my fist had begun to whimper and sob in its place, Ethan—who had been careful not to interfere in what was, after all, a matter between girls—gingerly stepped in to subdue Lizzie.
"Lizzie Lyn Auguste. Up until now, I have held my tongue out of respect for your standing as the heiress of House Auguste. But if you continue to torment Lilith like this, I can no longer stand idly by and..."
"Lilith, here, take this! Quick, throw it in my face!"
"......I beg your pardon?"
"I'll drench myself in the whole cocktail, just like you did back then! So pour your anger on me—splash it right on!"
...This woman is genuinely, certifiably insane.
Does she honestly believe that's an option?
A baron's daughter—the daughter of a baron—splashing a cocktail in the face of a margrave's daughter?
Hold on. Could it be that Lizzie is the one still nursing a grudge over what happened that day?
Is she fabricating a pretext to drag me down with her—staging this drunken spectacle on purpose so that when she sobers up, she can demand damages with a perfectly shameless face?
I'd intended to overlook a great deal out of gratitude for everything she'd done for me, but the more I thought about it, the more clearly I saw that getting close to this lunatic was simply not in the cards.
-SPLASH.
"Ngh... ahh..."
Through it all, Ethan remained composed, pinning both of Lizzie's arms behind her back and keeping her from causing any further havoc.
And so, amid that somewhat chaotic atmosphere, something resembling a banquet carried on regardless.
Then, after exchanging a few words with Luke, Seraphin turned her gaze toward our corner of the room and delivered what was very clearly an improvised ambush of a speech.
"Everyone, the truth is that the after-party I prepared today was not held solely to close out the semester with the student council."
'......Huh?'
"In fact, there are other guests I invited separately to tonight's banquet. Namely—the ones who made the greatest showing at this term's Hunting Festival."
'...Oh, don't tell me.'
"Please welcome—Hero Gehmajoshigi-gwat and the members of his Hunting Festival party! Come on in~!"
Accompanied by Seraphin's rather theatrical welcome, the Hero's party filed in from outside.
The Hero first, and then the faces following behind him—the moment I laid eyes on them, a quiet, sinking intuition settled into my chest.
...This after-party, no matter how I looked at it, was not going to end cleanly.