Something Pretending to Tour #6
"O-of course I'll accept it…!"
Helena willingly accepted my proposal—no, my confession.
I felt a little guilty that it hadn't been a pure confession of affection alone, but that didn't mean I felt nothing for her.
So I concluded that I simply needed to put in a bit more care. Besides, once words were spoken, they couldn't be taken back.
"Thank you. And I'm sorry to say something like this right after a confession, but…"
"Hm? Ah. You mean Lloyd. Play along a little, and if he confesses, don't get angry—just refuse him, right? Of course I will."
She answered before I could even finish speaking.
An extremely accurate reply after instantly reading the context.
"Oh, right. From now on, when it's just the two of us, drop the formal speech and call me casually. Deep down I'd rather you speak freely no matter where we are, but Zion would find that uncomfortable, so I'm holding back this much. Got it?"
Married couples who lived their whole lives addressing each other formally existed in this world as well, but Helena had no desire to be one of them.
Of course that was natural in its own right, so I answered by simply nodding my head.
In one sense it felt as if I had become bound; in another, I had gained a justification to step forward more aggressively.
Moreover, seeing her look so happy, it seemed this would prove reasonably effective even from the standpoint of mental treatment.
"Yes. No… should I say 'yeah'? I'll do it that way from now on."
"Good. Keep doing it that way. It really feels like we've grown closer, and that makes me so happy. We were close before, but this is even more."
Helena rested both hands on her cheeks and smiled bashfully.
She truly was no different from a child, and that made her look all the cuter.
"Then, back to the matter of Lloyd… there's one thing I'd like to ask."
"Hm? What is it?"
"Will you be all right even if we're apart?"
My future course of action would be decided by how she answered this question.
In a way it was like deliberately brushing my own reverse scale, yet it was a necessary step.
"All right… not really. But if it's only a little while, then."
And the result was extremely successful.
"This is the customs house of Barkan Port. Any ship entering the harbor must first report here, then undergo an internal search…"
It was tedious, yet useful in its own way.
Helena, though gripped by a languor that made her want to yawn, straightened her posture still further so she could grasp the structure of this territory.
This was a public occasion; she could not afford to show any opening.
Until she had been staying at the mansion, Helena had been so lacking in composure that she could not even entertain such thoughts.
But thanks to Zion Altram's untimely confession she was in high spirits, and her anxious mental state had stabilized considerably as a result.
"Ah, I see. Perhaps because the Count has taken a hand in it, it looks quite thorough."
Through Lloyd's mediation she met and exchanged greetings with the customs officials, then observed how quarantine was conducted at the port.
Deep down she wanted to board a ship herself and watch a search take place, but that would have caused far too much trouble, so she quietly set the idea aside.
Above all, boarding a ship was something she wanted to do alone with Zion.
After that they toured several more places—the offices that managed exports, the market streets near the harbor, and so on—impressing upon her eyes the distinctive scenery one could see only here.
"It seems lunchtime is approaching… shall we go and have a meal?"
"Has it already grown so late? The town is so lively that I must have lost myself without realizing it—so thoroughly that I even forgot the time."
"Haha! I'm honored by the praise. This way, please."
Lloyd laughed heartily and strode off with long steps.
The place he led them to was a restaurant aimed at those who spent money freely—in other words, an establishment for the wealthy.
Consequently the interior was clean and splendid, and personal hygiene, beginning with clothing, was kept remarkably strict.
"Lord Lloyd, welcome. And the lady with you is…?"
The son of the Count who ruled this territory—and a guest of no small standing—had set foot inside.
Thus the private room they were shown to was quiet and confidential, and the service gave the impression of being exceptionally meticulous.
Even the head chef coming out in person to greet them was part of that.
"This is Lady Helena Krauser. You know of her, I trust?"
"Hoh…! You mean the Master of such widespread renown? A pleasure to meet you. I am Aiman, head chef of this establishment."
"A pleasure to meet you as well. I am Helena Krauser."
When Helena offered a courteous greeting, Head Chef Aiman reacted with almost comical exuberance, declaring how great an honor it was.
Having a woman famed for her strength standing right before him, surprise was only natural.
Yet the fuss lasted only a moment.
The chef finished his greetings as if nothing had happened, took their orders, and returned to his proper place.
"The carpaccio and tartare here are exquisite. Their clean flavors make them good to eat at any time. Of course every dish is excellent, but personally those two suit my palate best."
"Ah… is that so? Lord Lloyd prefers clean, refreshing flavors more than I would have expected."
"Yes. Embarrassing as it is to admit, that sort of thing seems to agree with me."
"Oh my. There's no need to feel embarrassed, is there? A person's taste is something one simply can't help."
Helena soothed Lloyd with practiced ease.
She had become able to maintain a measure of composure even while apart from Zion.
It was the sense of security that came not merely from a master-and-servant bond, but from having advanced into a relationship between man and woman.
The assurance that he would return to her arms no matter what—that was the source of her calm.
"Your croquettes, tuna carpaccio, and herring tartare. Please excuse me."
After several staff members brought the ordered dishes, a brief silence settled over the table.
Lloyd wanted to say something, anything, yet he could not bring himself to disturb Helena as she quietly focused on the food.
Even so he was able to eat in comfort because he could glimpse satisfaction in her expression.
"That was delicious. Just as Lord Lloyd said, every dish was excellent."
If the person before her eyes had been Zion Altram it would have been perfect, but the food itself bore no guilt.
Moreover, just as he had boldly claimed, everything had been thoroughly satisfying, so the word "excellent" left Helena's lips quite naturally.
"Phew! I'm truly relieved. I worried a great deal that it might not suit your taste."
"That was far too much worry. From the moment the plates arrived I was already savoring the fragrant aroma."
"Is that so? If I had known that, I could have relaxed much earlier…"
Lloyd steered the mood skillfully, mixing in moderate jokes.
As the heir of a territory where commerce thrived, and having studied the art of conversation in order to deal with countless merchants in the future, his rhetorical skill was shining.
"Um… Lady Helena. It may be impertinent of me, but may I ask you one question?"
"Of course. After receiving such splendid hospitality, answering a question is the least I should do."
Helena gave a light wave of her hand, encouraging Lloyd's question.
She herself was curious what he would ask, so the gesture meant "go on and say it."
In response Lloyd inhaled and exhaled several times over.
When it came to voicing the feelings he had harbored for the woman he had fallen for at first sight, his throat seemed to lock shut.
Time stretched for a while. At last he steeled himself, hands trembling faintly, and carefully opened his mouth.
"Lady Helena… is there by any chance a man you hold in your heart?"
So it's finally come.
Faced with a question whose intent was plain for anyone to see, Helena had to struggle to suppress the sigh that tried to slip past her lips.
If Zion had not conveyed the Count's intentions that very morning, she might well have displayed rudeness.
"Well… bringing up such a topic so suddenly is quite startling."
She glanced at Lloyd's cheeks, which had flushed rather red, then turned her head aside as if troubled.
Lloyd, taking it for shyness, decided to press even harder.
He intended to make use of the phenomenon commonly called the suspension-bridge effect.
Of course the term "suspension-bridge effect" did not exist in this era, yet the concept itself was known—accumulated through the mouths of countless idle gossipers, bards, and rakes who made a habit of seducing women.
"I apologize. But opportunities to face you like this do not come often, so I simply had to ask. Please forgive my impertinence."
"Please don't apologize like that. I am startled, true, but… I believe this is something that can happen."
Yes. Proposing marriage to someone was not especially rude. No—rather, it was perfectly natural.
Especially among nobles, betrothal was strongly regarded as a union between houses, and it was highly valued for strengthening each other's influence.
In such circumstances, with a member of the Krauser family—who did not greatly discriminate by status when choosing a partner—standing right there, it was only natural that someone would find her an appetizing prize.
Lloyd, however, had fallen for Helena in earnest rather than out of calculation, and that was why he asked the question now.
Even stripping away every background consideration, Helena herself was more than attractive enough.
"Thank you for understanding. So… is there a man you hold in your heart?"
A man? Of course there was.
Helena nodded as she recalled the face of Zion, who had confessed to her that very morning.
The face of a man with deep navy hair almost as dark as her own, who somehow gave a fragile impression.
At that, Lloyd seemed to take a heavy blow. The violent trembling of his pupils and the way the heat drained coldly from his cheeks were proof enough.
"There… is, then. Is it by chance that man of Altram who follows at your side?"
"Yes. Just as you guessed."
So his preference was for pretty boys, was it?
Lloyd hung his head as he pictured Zion's appearance, yet that was a somewhat mistaken assumption.
Helena's preference was not for pretty boys; it was for Zion Altram himself.
That was why she remained utterly unmoved even when she encountered men of finer looks than Zion.
But Lloyd did not know that. He simply thought that Zion, who happened to stay by her side, had luckily matched her taste.
"I… see."
A vast disappointment and emptiness swallowed Lloyd whole.
She was a young lady famous for rejecting every marriage proposal that came her way, so he had hoped there might still be some crack he could slip through.
The others had only sent letters, while he had been fortunate enough to meet Helena in person.
Yet the outcome was even more wretched.
Deep down he wanted to say that he was far better than some greenhorn of a mere viscount's house, and to ask her to reconsider.
But since the other party was a Krauser, any justification based on status was utterly useless.
The Krausers were a ducal house that paid little regard to rank, and even the next duke was selected strictly by ability.
On top of that, if he let emotion run away with him and misspoke… he feared the sword at Helena's waist might spit fire.
That was the decisive reason Lloyd sealed his lips.
The lingering anxiety that she might swing her blade simply because he had slighted her.
Helena was not merely a duke's daughter; she was a Sword Master so rare that she ranked among the few on the entire continent.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I am fond of Zion. We have been together since we were children, after all."
"…Yes. I am aware. That the Altram viscountcy has served the Krauser duchy as loyal retainers for generations."
Why did that mere viscount he wouldn't even glance at on any other day suddenly look so enviable?
Lloyd let his shoulders sag and quietly rose from his seat, as if he had nothing more to say.
Having been refused because a certain man already existed, there seemed no room left to maneuver, and if he dragged the conversation out any longer he feared he would no longer be able to control himself.
Through that demeanor, Helena was freshly reminded that he, for better or worse, was still a human of the nobility.
It looked as though a greater authority had simply crushed a lesser one.
Yet she felt neither awkwardness nor guilt over it.
She merely considered it fortunate that the matter could be settled without resorting to rough methods.