That's How You Seduce the Hero, Sister
Today's guests of honor at the banquet were Elfride and her younger sister Elena. Escorting the two young ladies of the ducal house, I made my way to the ballroom with Celine in tow.
Even though it was already past six, Elfride still looked perfectly at ease.
"Aren't we running a little late, though?"
"It's fine. I'm the star of this banquet, so I'm supposed to make my entrance last. Elena will come in with me, which means you and Saint Celine can go ahead."
"Ah, that makes sense."
The guest of honor always arrives last. That much was true enough.
"Abel, find a seat and settle in. I'll come find you later. How about we share a drink then?"
"Wait—there's alcohol?"
"The regular report assemblies are official, solemn affairs, so no liquor is served. But this is a celebration. A festive mood calls for wine, wouldn't you say?"
"Can't argue with that."
A party without drinks would feel incomplete.
Listening in on our conversation, Elena and Celine both shook their heads.
"I don't really understand what's so good about alcohol."
"Same here."
"You don't drink either, Celine?"
"I am a saint of the Church, you know—appearances aside. Temperance is one of the fundamental virtues expected of the faithful."
Clergy usually steered clear of drinking. Celine seemed to be no exception. I'd assumed the relatively open-minded Ludria Church might be more relaxed about that sort of thing, but apparently not.
"So you don't even know whether you hold your liquor well or not?"
"I've only ever had a sip or two."
"Is drinking itself forbidden?"
"No. It isn't that alcohol is taboo so much as that we practice restraint to uphold the spirit of temperance."
Which meant, in the end, that she could drink if she wanted to.
"Then you could drink something I poured for you."
"...Are you planning to get me drunk?"
"Won't you drink with me?"
I just wanted a drink. That was all I'd meant by it.
Celine, though—whether she'd taken it some other way or was simply teasing me—wore a knowing little smile as she answered.
"Hmm. Hero. Just what are you planning to do after you get me drunk?"
"...Excuse me?"
She wrapped both arms around herself and put on an exaggerated show of alarm.
"I'm not used to alcohol, so once I'm completely wasted, what exactly do you intend to do to me... Kyaa! You pervert!"
"D-Don't say weird things like that!!"
When did I ever say anything like that, woman?!
I was so flabbergasted I called her out on it, and she just laughed under her breath.
"Of course, if that's what you really want, Hero, I won't refuse. Sampling a drunk me might be entertaining in its own way, don't you think?"
"I am not doing that!"
Honestly, every time Celine pulled something like this, I felt like my heart was going to give out. If my reputation kept taking hits, she definitely deserved a share of the blame....
"...So that's how it's done."
"...What are you talking about, Elena?"
"That's how you seduce the Hero, Sister."
"W-What on earth are you saying?!"
...And off to the side, someone seemed to be learning all the wrong lessons.
Elfride Bathory was renowned as a Hero, but within the Vesta Kingdom she was equally famous as the eldest daughter of House Bathory.
As the firstborn of the kingdom's most powerful ducal family, her standing was considerable—so the ballroom was packed with people who had come, under the polite pretext of celebrating her birthday, to leave a favorable impression on her.
"It's been some time, Your Grace."
"Welcome, Marchioness of Roberk."
The nobles of Vesta each had their own reasons for attending. And here, the Marchioness of Roberk—representing her house—was one of them.
Her aim was to secure a marriage between her son and the youngest daughter of House Bathory, Elena Bathory. Judging by the Duke's favorable attitude so far, the engagement should have gone through without trouble, but the Marchioness wanted the matter settled beyond any doubt.
She gestured to the attendant behind her. The servant produced a case containing an exquisitely crafted brooch.
"This is a gift for Lady Elfride. Please be sure to present it to her personally later, Your Grace."
"I'm grateful for your thoughtfulness. My daughter will be delighted."
"Heh, think nothing of it. We'll soon be family by marriage, won't we? Of course I should take such care."
The Marchioness said as much, but Duke Bathory gave no reaction at all. Just as she was beginning to find his silence odd, he spoke.
"...Ah. It seems the letter hasn't reached you yet."
"Letter?"
"One will have gone to the Marquis as well, but... I ought to tell you myself."
"Pardon?"
"I intend to cancel the engagement between Elena and the young master of House Roberk."
The Marchioness was briefly speechless. He was calling off the match so abruptly, and so unilaterally?
However far House Roberk stood beneath the prestige of House Bathory, breaking an engagement this suddenly was still a breach of courtesy.
"But—why so suddenly? Your Grace had been quite favorable toward the match."
"I had. But circumstances have changed."
"What?"
"My daughter—Elena—has overcome her illness."
"...What?"
What was he talking about?
The youngest daughter of the ducal house, Elena Bathory, had suffered from a strange affliction since birth and had lived with it her entire life, had she not?
She had rarely been able to leave the estate, confined almost always within its walls. People had even saddled her with the cruel nickname "the Shut-In Lady"—that said everything. And now, suddenly, she was cured?
"What do you mean by that...? If you simply said our house was no longer good enough, I could at least understand. But to lie to my face—"
"A lie? Do I strike you as a man who tells lies, Madam?"
The Duke's voice dropped low, and the Marchioness flinched. Could it actually be true?
"No... Lady Elena has always suffered from an incurable disease, has she not? To hear you say she has suddenly recovered is simply too hard to believe...."
"...Of course it would be difficult to accept. When I first heard it yesterday, I assumed my daughter was making it up."
"...Yesterday?"
She had recovered only yesterday?
"Yes. Yesterday. To be precise, a miracle occurred yesterday afternoon."
"...But how? Even the physicians had all given up...."
"...Ah. There he is now."
At the Duke's words, the Marchioness turned—and her eyes went wide.
"That man is the one who worked a miracle for my daughter."
"...The Hero Abel?"
A strikingly handsome young man with white hair and red eyes—the Hero Abel, recently famous for subduing an Agares-class monster—was entering the ballroom alongside his companion saint. Seeing the holy sword still slung across his back even over a tailcoat, the Marchioness made the connection.
"...Did the Holy Sword of Order heal her?"
"That appears to be the case. Which means my daughter is no longer a sickly young lady who might die at any moment. And so...."
The Duke left the rest unsaid. But the Marchioness was no fool; she understood perfectly well.
My daughter and the heir of House Roberk are no longer of equal worth.
That was what he meant. Swallowing a bitter smile, the Marchioness replied,
"...I understand perfectly, Your Grace."
"I do appreciate how quick House Roberk is on the uptake."
The Marchioness offered her respects and withdrew. Left alone, the Duke watched Abel and Celine as they entered the hall.
"...I'd like to keep him tied to this side of things, if I can."
Not long after Abel and Celine entered the ballroom, the true stars of the celebration finally made their appearance.
"Lady Elfride and Lady Elena, entering together!"
At the cry of the attendant by the doors, every gaze in the room swung toward one point. Two beautiful young women stepped inside—identical golden hair, identical blue eyes, and faces so alike they might have been mirrors of each other.
Similar as they looked, telling them apart was easy enough. The taller one in the crimson dress was the elder sister and the guest of honor of the evening: Elfride Bathory.
Even without the height difference, the holy sword at her hip would have given her away.
The moment Elfride entered, nobles throughout the ballroom began to approach.
"Lady Elfride, my warmest congratulations on your twentieth birthday."
"Truly, happy birthday! We look forward to many more of your great deeds!"
Given Elfride's lofty standing as a ducal daughter, most of them elevated the occasion, offering their congratulations with formal, deferential phrasing. Elfride answered each with a smile.
"Thank you all for gathering in such numbers. Please, enjoy yourselves to the fullest."
Once they had paid their respects to Elfride, their attention shifted at once to Elena. Small wonder—Elena, who usually skipped banquets because of her frail health, had appeared looking perfectly well.
"Lady Elena, are you quite all right? I do hope you aren't overexerting yourself...."
"I'm fine, Lady Descartes. My body is healthy now."
"Pardon?"
At Elena's words, the eyes of everyone clustered around Elfride went round. That could only mean the young lady who had suffered from a rare disease had been completely cured.
"My goodness—did you find a treatment?"
"I'll keep that a secret. Besides, I'm not the star tonight, so please give my sister your attention."
"Ah—forgive me. I got carried away."
Elena drew that line and deflected the interest aimed at her, but the news that the once-sickly girl had recovered was not something people's curiosity would let go of so easily.
Elfride turned to her sister.
"Elena, go stay with Abel. I'll follow shortly."
"...Is that all right?"
"It is."
Elfride nodded without thinking—then hastily added,
"And don't do anything strange."
"...Yes, I understand."
"Why the pause before answering...."
"I'm off~."
Elena wove through the crowd and crossed the ballroom. She made her way to Abel and Celine, who had claimed a quiet corner.
"Hero, may I join you?"
"Elena."
Abel tilted his head slightly.
"What about Elfride? You came alone?"
"Sister has so many people she has to deal with that she's rather busy. So I came ahead."
"Is that so? Then please, have a seat."
Abel rose and courteously pulled out a chair for her. Elena smiled faintly at the gesture.
"You have excellent manners, Hero."
"I was taught that this is what you're supposed to do...."
He scratched his cheek, a little embarrassed. Elena laughed softly at the sight of him.
"You learned well."
"Did I?"
Watching her nod, Abel thought to himself,
Estelle really did teach me properly after all. Even if she is a scrub and an idiot....
"Hero, tell me something interesting."
"Hm?"
"I could never go outside much, so traveling through different countries the way you do has always been a dream of mine. Won't you tell me some of the stories from your travels?"
"...I don't see why not. Though they might not be all that interesting."
"I think they will be. Please, go on."
"Well...."
Abel began to talk. He started with the journey from Daisy Village to Thracian, training alongside Estelle the whole way, and worked his way up through their recent campaigns clearing monster nests.
Even through a fairly long stretch of storytelling, Elena never lost focus. If anything, the further the tales went, the more her eyes sparkled as she listened.
And Celine, sitting beside them, was much the same. She was hearing about everything that had happened before she joined the party, and she listened with a look of genuine enjoyment.
"...That's about it. Unfortunately, I haven't been traveling all that long, so I don't have much more to tell."
"It was more than interesting enough. An awful lot happened in just five months. You must have been quite busy."
"Busy is one word for it."
As they talked, someone tapped Abel lightly on the shoulder from behind.
"Who—Elfride?"
"What were you all chatting about so happily?"
"I was telling them about the things I've run into on the road. Elena wanted to hear."
"So my little sister was being a nuisance and you were kind enough to entertain her. Thank you."
Elena immediately protested.
"I was not being a nuisance. Right, Hero?"
"No, she wasn't a bother at all."
"See, Sister?"
Amused by her sister's cute rebuttal, Elfride laughed lightly.
"Heh. All right. I can sit here too, can't I, Abel?"
"That was the plan from the start."
Once again Abel stood and pulled out a chair. Elfride inclined her head slightly at the courtesy.
"My thanks."
"Don't mention it. Still—you've already finished making the rounds?"
"More or less. Listening to every last person was exhausting, so I cut it short and came over."
"...Is that allowed?"
"It's fine."
Abel looked at her with an expression that clearly said are you sure about that—then something seemed to occur to him. He rummaged inside the breast pocket of his tailcoat.
"What is it, Abel?"
"One moment. Ah—here it is."
He drew a small case from his coat and held it out to Elfride.
"Happy birthday, Elfride. This is for you."
"......."
Elfride blinked twice at the gift in his hand, then met his eyes. Abel tilted his head, puzzled by her look.
"A-Abel. What is this...."
"What? You didn't think I'd show up without a present, did you?"
"N-No, that isn't what I—"
Embarrassment was written all over Elfride's face. Beside her, Elena looked a little flustered as well.
"...You idiot Hero."
"...What's that supposed to mean all of a sudden, Celine?"
Celine stuck out her lower lip.
"...At a birthday banquet, there's a separate formal presentation of gifts."
"Oh. Is there?"
"But handing one over privately like this—especially between a man and a woman—there's really only one way people are going to read it."
"...One way?"
Abel thought for a second, then startled so hard he nearly jumped. He looked at Elfride with a gaze that asked whether he'd guessed right.
Elfride nodded and managed to say,
"...Th-This is the sort of thing one only does between lovers, Abel."