6. The Reversal Opening Ceremony (20)
6. The Reversal Opening Ceremony (20)
[Sub Quest — Trial completed.]
[Reward: Circus Troupe Fame +50.]
[Current Circus Troupe Fame: 96]
[Circus Troupe Fame reached 50. Reward: Costume Room unlocked.]
[Ella's Affection level increased by 1.]
[Maya's Affection level increased by 1.]
[Troupe members' Average Affection level reached 10. Reward: Skillbook unlocked.]
Messages flooded my field of vision the instant the judge delivered his verdict.
I felt the tension drain out of me all at once.
That forensics report arriving at the last moment was the equivalent of hitting a forced-win event in a game. The whole quest, in the end, was structured to resolve itself as long as I managed to defend my Fame for two hours.
I'd braced myself to be tied up in this for months...
The anticlimax was almost deflating.
Not that I had any complaints.
What did nag at my curiosity was what would have happened if my Fame had hit zero before the report arrived. What chain of events would have led to the "temporary suspension of Circus Grand Prix activities"? Did the report get burned up on the road or something?
No way to find out now.
That wasn't the only puzzle.
I couldn't figure out why Ella's and Maya's Affection levels had gone up, either. What did my acquittal event have to do with either of them? Had something happened outside that just happened to coincide with the verdict?
I considered asking them later, then pushed the thought aside. Something else had seized my attention far more firmly.
<Rewards Based on Troupe Members' Average Affection level>
: Skillbook (unlocked at 10)
: [Unlocks at 25]
: [Unlocks at 40]
: [Unlocks at 60]
: [Unlocks at 80]
<Circus Troupe Fame Rewards>
: Costume Room (unlocked at 50)
: [Unlocks at 150]
: [Unlocks at 300]
: [Unlocks at 500]
: [Unlocks at 800]
The Skillbook floated in the reward window the same way the Ghost's Mask had — a tangible object I could reach in and pull out.
The Costume Room was added as a new function under the "Member Management" tab.
I wanted to examine both immediately, but now wasn't the time.
Expressing my gratitude came first.
I turned toward Anais, who was unsteadily rising from the advocate's seat. A sheen of sweat glistened on her slender white neck. Her gaunt complexion made it plain she was utterly exhausted.
Years of chronic illness had left her constitution fragile. Simply stepping down from a carriage and walking a short distance was enough to leave her breathless and searching for a chair. Her color had improved compared to the past, but the fundamental weakness from her complete lack of exercise wasn't going anywhere.
Yet when she had stood in this courtroom and argued, she hadn't shown the faintest crack. Back straight, stance unshaken from start to finish, she had fought for over an hour, pouring out a torrent of impassioned argument.
For me. For no one else but me.
The very person who had left such a deep wound in her heart...
Her legs seemed to buckle; she clutched the desk and swayed. I moved to steady her, as I had so often before.
But it was her bodyguard, Sir Porshu, who caught her shoulders. He met my eyes and gave a small shake of his head. I understood what he was telling me.
Too many eyes were on us right now. There was no sense in handing fresh kindling to rumors we'd only just managed to smother.
There was another thing that held my feet in place: the words she had thrown at me earlier.
—If only you had pushed me away, Troupe Leader.
—If only you hadn't smiled at me.
—If only you had told me plainly that you didn't want me.
My kindness and my smile might have been what was making this harder for her. I was the one who had refused her feelings, after all.
I still didn't know how to speak to her.
She was someone I owed an immense apology, an immense debt of gratitude.
Luckily — for both of us — neither of us had the luxury of dwelling on each other for long. The moment the judge declared the court adjourned, the spectators flooded up onto the stage and engulfed us.
The nobles and luminaries flocked to Anais. The cabaret folk and circus members swarmed toward me.
"Well done! Very well done!"
Rooster Minova pounded me on the back.
"A Troupe Leader is the face of his circus. Mind your conduct at all times. If your dignity slips, your members suffer for it."
Eunmak Arno spoke while glancing back toward the step seats behind the stage.
"I've never felt so vindicated. I hail from the same region, you know. A pleasure."
A young troupe leader I didn't recognize seized my hand and shook it vigorously, murmuring conspiratorially. Behind him, an elderly troupe leader I also didn't recognize nodded along, sharing in the hometown pride.
"Bold young fellow. To stare down those nobles and grin in a situation like that."
"Remarkable nerve. The Monster Circus... not my usual taste, but it might be worth a look."
"Would it be impertinent to ask the nature of your Inspira?"
Dozens of people spoke to me at once. It was overwhelming.
Anais was in much the same situation. Already drained, she looked even more strained than I was. If Marquis Mustang hadn't adroitly inserted himself among the crowd, she might genuinely have collapsed then and there.
"Viscountess Bergson, might I suggest you retire to your lodgings for today?"
Anais let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and gritted teeth and shook her head.
"The proceedings aren't finished yet, are they?"
"There is the segment where each troupe leader declares their resolve, and the introduction of the sponsors. However..."
Marquis Mustang smiled genially and swept his gaze across the onlookers.
"Everyone here will attest to it. You have already demonstrated who you are with splendid conviction. Tonight, telegrams will fly across the world. By tomorrow morning, the entire globe will know of your exploits. And everyone present can testify that Troupe Leader Wonderstein's resolve was no less steely. Moreover, as the owner of the Six Great Theaters and a supervisor of the Grand Prix, I shall grant my permission. Ha ha — are we not comrades who fought side by side?"
The marquis's words drew a roar of approval. I let a faint smile touch my lips as I watched him.
The three bosses of the Rose Windmill Cabaret.
Executive Director Yug Maroine.
Manager Bwallet.
Owner Marquis Mustang.
Each man's role was sharply defined. If Maroine was the single-minded crusader obsessed with performance, and Bwallet the cunning operator who schemed every angle for profit, then Marquis Mustang was the politician who mediated between the noble and the vulgar worlds.
With one small courtesy to Anais, he both earned her goodwill and asserted his own presence. Left alone, tomorrow's headlines would spotlight only Anais's solo triumph. By acting now, he subtly stamped the image of a united Marquis-and-Viscountess front onto the public consciousness.
"I shall have a carriage brought to the rear gate. If you leave through the main entrance, the press will mob you."
That remark, too, carried the same design. It sounded like consideration for Anais, but it was practically a declaration that he himself would step forward to handle the media.
Anais accepted the proposal without objection. I agreed it was for the best.
This was his castle and his own backyard, after all. Containing her moment in the spotlight at this stage was better for both sides. We still had to undergo our trial here — his prestige deserved some consideration.
And so we reached the cabaret's rear courtyard. While we waited for the carriage to arrive, we rested in a waiting room.
There were only three of us inside. The moment we stepped through the door, Anais collapsed onto the sofa as if her strings had been cut.
"Hah... hah..."
"Are you all right?"
She was breathing heavily. She looked exhausted, drained — but at the same time, there was a sense of hard-won satisfaction in her face.
"Heh heh, I can't remember the last time I stood before so many people. I've always used my health as an excuse to withdraw. Ever since I took over as chairwoman, I've pushed nearly everything onto Uncle Pierre."
Pierre.
At the name, Anais's expression darkened again.
She seemed to be thinking along the same lines I was. Today's crisis had begun with the malicious rumors Pierre had spread about her. There was a chance he'd been behind the frame-up attempt as well.
She met my eyes and nodded.
"You're probably right. There's a saying in noble society: if you mean to strike a family, win over the second son. Unless our enemies are truly intent on a death match with our trading company, they'd have established some degree of cooperation with the internal opposition. The fact is, this attack was aimed almost exclusively at me personally, not at the company itself."
With that, she draped her arm over her forehead and eyes and tilted her head back. Then she went utterly still.
Had exhaustion simply pulled her into sleep?
About five minutes passed. Suddenly, she opened her mouth.
"Troupe Leader."
"Yes?"
Her eyes still hidden beneath her arm, she worked her lips hesitantly. She seemed to have something she wanted to say.
"My legal fees are quite high, you know."
The words came out of nowhere. Assuming she was setting up a joke, I chuckled and played along.
"Heh heh. How much will it cost me?"
"I don't need money. I have plenty. What I mean... Mm. I did say earlier that was my last question, so I apologize for asking another. So... mm..."
She hesitated, bit her lower lip lightly, then spoke.
"The reason you rejected me, Troupe Leader... is it because of the difference in our stations?"
My laughter stopped. I couldn't see her expression — her arm still covered her face — but her voice carried an unmistakable, unguarded earnestness.
I considered my answer. A noble and an unregistered person. I'd experienced firsthand, inside that courtroom, what that gulf meant.
The easiest path was to say, "Yes, that's it," and let it go. She'd accept that readily enough.
But that would be an insult to everything she'd done. She had crossed that gulf of station to stand in court and defend me, risking even her chairwoman's seat if things went wrong.
Just as I had revealed the meaning of my smile to Yurakne. Just as I had made Ella a promise about what would happen two and a half years later. I decided to answer with as much sincerity as I could manage, even if I couldn't give her the whole truth.
"Viscountess, I have staked everything on reaching the Circus Grand Prix Finals. Because of that, I have no room in my mind for anything else. That is why I refused your feelings."
She lowered her arm and looked at me.
"Is it truly that important?"
There was a note of hurt in her voice. I decided to be more candid.
"To be honest, the Grand Prix itself doesn't matter very much. It's the reward attached to it that I need."
Anais clutched at her chest.
"I see..."
She gazed at me with an expression filled with sorrow. I thought she must be deeply disappointed in me.
"Two and a half years from now, I don't know what will become of me. I couldn't make a promise I had no certainty I could keep."
I let out a small sigh.
"I am more of a coward than I look. Heh heh—does that surprise you?"
"No, Troupe Leader, you're..."
I shook my head. Cutting off any lingering attachment she still held, here and now, would be the kinder thing in the end.
"You are a beautiful person, Viscountess. A remarkable, capable, captivating woman. I might not have realized it at first, but I do now. If my circumstances were different, I would have accepted your heart. But as things stand... I cannot."
At my words, she pressed her lips tightly together.