Date (3)

The golden goldfish was darting about in its bowl, performing playful tricks.

Its spinning motions, as if celebrating my victory, made me smile without realizing it.

In stark contrast, the stall owner's face was twisted in utter dismay. He dragged his hands down his face as if giving himself a rough wash.

"Sniff... I-I'll give you... the golden goldfish."

His voice trembled as if holding back tears, forcing the words out.

Judging by his actions alone, one might think he had some deep bond with the golden goldfish.

But the fish itself was happily flitting around, doing little dances—clearly, no such bond existed.

It looked like it was reveling in newfound freedom, finally liberated from the stall owner.

If they had truly been close, he wouldn't have put the fish up as a prize in the first place.

"H-Here you go..."

He carefully set the bowl down from the prize display, as if afraid the water might spill.

The stall owner gazed wistfully at the goldfish inside. Of course, the fish paid him no mind, its attention fixed solely on me.

Not that I felt any pity for him. Not after the stunt he tried to pull at the end.

If not for Abel, I might've ended up losing more than just my dignity. Even if it was a festival, falling for such a trick would've left a bitter taste.

"Stall owner."

"Y-Yes?!"

At Abel's quiet call, the man flinched, stumbling over his words. Abel smirked and gave his shoulder a few light pats.

The stall owner froze, as if the touch sent chills down his spine.

"Don't try this again."

"Y-Yes, sir! I-I'll remember that!"

He saluted dramatically, raising one hand high—only to yelp in pain as he accidentally bit his tongue.

The commotion drew stares from the crowd, though thanks to Abel's recognition-inhibiting magic, their attention quickly faded.

Now, the only thing left was to take the goldfish with me. But carrying the entire bowl seemed impractical.

"Ah, if you need a subspace bag to carry the bowl—"

As I stood there hesitating, the stall owner approached, lifting a bag from the counter as if to continue his pitch.

Was he seriously about to say I'd have to buy it to take the prize properly? This guy's audacity was something else.

Abel stifled a laugh. Then, before the man could finish, he casually stored the bowl inside his own subspace.

The stall owner's face went blank with shock before he dropped to his knees in defeat.

"Well then, take care."

With that, Abel turned away. The man's pitiful state made me sigh involuntarily.

Leaving him behind, I followed after Abel.

We walked hand in hand again, and I couldn't help but notice how he kept fidgeting—uncharacteristically awkward.

Not that I was any better. Holding hands with a man was a rare occurrence for me. But at least I wasn't that stiff.

It was... oddly endearing, in a way. I hadn't expected him to have this kind of side.

As we ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠walked, a question occurred to me, and I turned to him.

"How did you notice?"

Honestly, if he hadn't intervened, I wouldn't have caught the stall owner's magic at all.

It had been that subtle and fast.

Had I been alone, I might've just stood there dumbfounded, blaming myself for the fish's sudden, unnatural speed—never realizing it was the man's doing.

Abel paused, as if considering his answer, before replying.

"He was using an artifact that masks magical presence."

"An artifact like that exists?"

Something that concealed magical traces? At a glance, it didn't seem like something meant for benign purposes. His response was grave.

"It's a dangerous tool. One that can easily be misused."

Just as I thought—definitely not something harmless. If Abel, with his artifact-collecting hobby, said so, it had to be serious.

"Unless you're at the level of an Archmage, detecting it would be nearly impossible."

If that were true, then the artifact was incredibly dangerous. Perfect for assassinations or ambushes.

"And it can erase magical traces just as easily."

"Huh? How does someone like him have something like that?"

An artifact that let you cast magic undetected and wipe away the evidence afterward?

No way a simple festival stall owner should've had access to something like that.

Abel answered simply.

"Probably stumbled upon it by chance. If he knew its true value, he wouldn't be wasting it on petty scams."

"Ah. Right."

That made sense.

If he'd really understood what he had, he wouldn't be using it to cheat people out of goldfish prizes.

"Don't worry. I'll see that it's properly retrieved—with adequate compensation, of course."

"That's a relief."

His words eased my mind a little. The thought of such a dangerous artifact circulating freely in the market would've kept me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up at night.

"Well, that's something to think about later."

For now, it would be best to focus on enjoying the festival. After all, this was my first date with Abel too.

'...Hmm, I'm feeling oddly nervous for some reason.'

The memory of the smile he had shown me earlier made my heart begin to race.

Come to think of it, I'd boldly linked arms with Abel back then. Yet now, even simply holding hands like this made me feel slightly awkward.

Trying to distract myself from these emotions, I deliberately looked around the festival grounds. Despite the late hour, the festive atmosphere remained vibrant.

No—if anything, the crowd seemed even larger than before. In all my lives, I'd never experienced a festival this lively and joyful.

Neither in this world nor in my past life.

The glow of lamps beneath the moonlight carried the energy of the people. Among the bustling crowd, smiles were everywhere.

The happiness, joy, and ease they felt—this was the essence of the Harvest Festival.

Now that I thought about it, hadn't Abel said the Night Market was a festival born from his efforts?

'...It's nice.'

Truly, it was.

So much so that I caught myself wishing this peaceful atmosphere could last forever.

"Abel."

"What is ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it?"

"Do you like the Night Market?"

This is a festival you created, after all.

When I added that and asked, Abel stopped walking right there.

He stood motionless for a moment amid the clamor of the festival.

Then, as if no further thought was needed, he answered without hesitation.

"I do. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Because this is the peace I've achieved."

"I like it too."

"...Is that so? That's a relief."

With those words, our conversation lapsed into silence.

But unlike before, it wasn't awkward. We'd grown too close for that now.

After walking for a while, a tarot stall came into view.

I suppose this was to be expected in a RoFan world. Tarot-reading stalls were practically a cliché in romance fantasies.

And the idea that the future would unfold according to the tarot's predictions was just as much an old trope.

Since this world's original work was a RoFan, maybe those clichés would apply here too.

With that thought, I broached the idea to Abel.

"Shall we get our tarot read?"

"Hmm... Alright. That could be fun."

After a brief moment of consideration, Abel nodded.

Holding his hand, I stepped inside the tarot stall with him. Pushing aside the silk curtain, we entered.

What greeted me was a sight so mystical it stole my breath.

A single crystal ball rested on the table, surrounded by an illusion of a starry expanse. The interior was bathed in the glow of illusion magic, evoking the image of a galactic river.

The atmosphere was as if we'd stepped into the heart of the night sky, and I couldn't help but gasp.

Having imagined a shabby little stall, I couldn't contain my awe.

"Haha, there you are, miss. Admiring is fine, but why not take a seat first?"

A woman with her face veiled in translucent silk spoke in an enchanting voice.

As if entranced, I sat before her.

The woman, who had been caressing the crystal ball, soon asked me:

"Here for a tarot reading?"

"Yes."

"What would you like to know? Fortune in wealth? Or health? Or perhaps..."

After a deliberate pause, she continued:

"...Your general future?"

"Yes. I'd like to know about my future."

I didn't know much about tarot, but one thing was clear—this woman was no ordinary person.

Anyone capable of weaving illusion magic of this caliber couldn't possibly be average.

"Hmm..."

Shuffling the cards in her hands, she soon spread them across the table.

"Ah, right. Um, payment first..."

Only after laying out the cards did she seem to remember, her voice sheepish.

My previously sky-high trust in her plummeted instantly.

Was it really okay to entrust my fortune to someone like this?

"How much?"

"Ahem. Since this was my oversight, one silver will suffice."

Perhaps sensing my skepticism, she said this. Abel promptly took out a silver coin from his wallet and handed it to her.

The woman exhaled deeply, then gestured to the spread-out cards.

"Now, pick three."

Following her words, I chose one card closest to me, one farthest away, and one from the center.

She took the selected cards and carefully began laying them out on the table.

But strangely, the revealed cards were completely blank.

"Huh?"

Flustered, she muttered something under her breath before speaking slowly.

"Erm... Well then..."

"Is there some kind of problem?"

"No. It's just that... your future seems a little unstable, perhaps."

"Unstable?"

She tapped the table with her fingers, seemingly deep in thought. Watching her, I bit my lip anxiously.

"For example... The person beside you might become the cause of a calam—"

"I think that's quite enough."

Before she could finish, Abel cut her off with a heavy sigh.

Then, without hesitation, he stepped forward and yanked aside the translucent silk veiling her face.

Beneath it was a familiar woman with golden hair and golden eyes.

"Y-Your Highness?!"

"Eheh, busted."

There stood the princess, sticking out her tongue with an awkward laugh.