Cute Enough to Bite
"Of course it looks weird! Ugh, golden buttons? How tacky can you get? I'd die of embarrassment being seen next to you. You walk behind!"
Dayson wedged himself between Cassion and me and rattled off every complaint he had in one breath. It was pure pettiness on his part. He's telling Cassion not to walk beside him because Cassion looks better than he does. If Cassion had actually looked tacky, Dayson would have kept him close — it would have made himself look all the more splendid by comparison.
"Your Highness Dayson, anyone who stands next to you is bound to look shabby."
Bella glued herself to Dayson's side and poured on the flattery with practiced ease. Whether it was her words that pleased him or not, Dayson's expression grew slack with satisfaction.
"We'll go on ahead, so follow. You can manage at least that much, can't you, Cassion? If you're feeling unwell, rest in the carriage."
Dayson's voice had softened as he spoke, and by the end — perhaps mindful of our presence — he even offered a few words of concern. I know that wasn't real concern, and so does Cassion. How could anyone's heart be quite so twisted?
"Your Highness Dayson, the festival has already begun. The sooner we get inside, the longer we'll have to enjoy it."
I bit back the urge to jab at him and made the suggestion anyway, but instead of heading for the festival grounds, Dayson only shot Cassion another warning look. Sighing inwardly, I drew close to Bella and whispered.
"Bella, go on in and attend to His Highness Dayson. It seems he's taken a liking to you. I'll look after Prince Cassion."
"Are you sure that's all right?"
Bella asked, looking as though she might die of happiness.
"Of course it is. Go have fun. It's been ages since any of us got out."
Bella arranged her face into an apologetic expression. But it wasn't the face of someone sorry for leaving Cassion in my hands — it was the face of someone sorry that the First Prince had chosen me over her. What is there to apologize for? She's clearly over the moon.
I gave Bella's back a gentle push. Pretending she had no choice in the matter, Bella approached Dayson and suggested they go inside, and with me and then Bella both urging him on, Dayson finally started moving. Bella and Dayson led the way while Cassion and I followed behind, watching their backs.
"I asked if it looked weird."
Just before we stepped inside, once the mages had finished checking our identities, Cassion seized on a sudden burst of commotion around us to ask.
"Pardon?"
"Does this outfit look weird on me?"
"It doesn't look weird."
"Then why haven't you said a word since this morning? If someone wears clothes you gave them, you're supposed to react somehow."
Cassion grumbled. Apparently my lack of a reaction had been gnawing at him this whole time. What is this — he's adorable.
I almost said exactly that, then clamped my mouth shut. Cassion was watching me with shining, expectant eyes, waiting to see what would come out.
"It really doesn't look weird."
"Then? How does it look?"
The entrance was a chaotic crush of bodies. Dayson and Bella had already slipped inside, and the guards had streamed in after them in a clump, leaving Cassion to be jostled this way and that by the crowd. He grabbed my collar on reflex. Afraid of losing him, I took his hand, and Cassion looked up at me with eyes gone wide as a startled rabbit's. I pulled him close against my side and brought my lips right up to his ear.
"Will you tell me honestly?"
Cassion nodded.
"Honestly? Your Highness, right now... you look... absolutely adorable."
And I shared my sincere impressions. Not all of them, of course. How could I possibly tell him he looked like a doll I wanted to sink my teeth into, or that I wanted to squeeze him until he creaked? He'd probably shriek and bolt if I did.
"Wh-what — you can't call a prince adorable!"
Cassion clapped both hands over his ears and muttered to himself. Beneath those hands, his ears were surely burning as red as a roasted sweet potato.
"Diana, hurry up and come!"
I would have liked to tease him a little longer, but Bella was waving at us frantically from inside. I took a rough measure of the hour and tugged Cassion along by the collar. He would be arriving soon — there was no time to dawdle here.
The moment we passed through the great tent, the cheers of the crowd came ringing loud and clear into my ears. For this festival, the Mage Association had distributed tickets to a portion of the common folk as well — a ploy to show the local people's goodwill toward mages and thereby win over the candidates for the association's regional head. With so many more people in attendance, the festival had grown livelier than ever, and the care poured into its preparations was plain to see. Enormous illusions drifted across the sky, and the stone walls were blanketed in flowers and trees blooming without any regard for the season.
Mages had gathered at every turn, performing marvel after marvel for the nobles — spells that made people vanish into thin air, or conjured the very scenes of a book before one's eyes. One mischievous mage even cast an illusion of a man losing his head, and a few onlookers fainted on the spot. The stalls, meanwhile, were lined with goods and potions crafted by the mages' own hands. Shops selling magic tools did exist out in the world, and all manner of goods circulated through the markets, but none of it could compare to the quality of a mage's personal stall. After all, this was where the mages of the entire continent had gathered — no one would dare put junk up for sale here.
Keeping a comfortable distance from Dayson and Bella, I swept my gaze over the stalls with care. Might as well stock up on magic tools while I'm at it. For someone with money to spare like me, acquiring magic tools is easy. But finding good pieces at a fair price is difficult no matter how rich you are. Why overpay when I can save the coin? Since these were direct dealings with the mages themselves, the stalls were far cheaper than any magic tool shop — the magic pouches laid out on display proved it. A magic pouch opens a small subspace in which to store one's belongings and retrieve them whenever needed, making it an extraordinarily useful item, and its price climbs wildly depending on how large that subspace is. At a proper shop, a pouch with a subspace of barely ten square meters would set you back two hundred gold coins; here, one hundred and fifty would do. And there were even pouches with subspaces of remarkable size.
"Jenice, buy everything from that stall over there all the way to that one — the whole lot. After I've walked past."
I turned my head slightly and murmured into Jenice's ear. The moment she made a rough tally of the prices on those stalls, her eyes went round as saucers.
"All of it?"
"Yes. And pay half now — tell them to deliver the rest to Ehrenberg."
I entrusted my money-filled magic pouch to Jenice. She looked bursting with questions, but for the moment she did as she was told and set to haggling with the mage. I kept scanning my surroundings intently, because there was something in particular I was looking for.
"Found it! This one, please."
"Huh? Miss? You want to buy that?"
Jenice frowned at the rusted ring in my hand.
"This looks more like something you'd throw away than something you'd sell."
she said, turning the ring over this way and that.
"If you're not buying it, put it down and move along."
The mage — rude at a single glance — flapped his hand at us, shooing Jenice and me away.
"Miss, don't buy it. We passed plenty of pretty rings on the way here. Who in their right mind pays money for this?"
Jenice declared loudly, quite as if she meant the mage to hear every word. For a heartbeat, I wanted to clap a hand over her mouth.
"I said, if you're not buying, get lost!"
Just as the mage, grumbling about his luck, began folding up his stall, I had no choice but to draw my greatest weapon.
"Double. I'll pay you double the price. Quickly, please."
"Really?"
"Triple, if that's what it takes."
I was on edge — there was no time to lose. Whatever sum I handed over, weighed against what that ring could do, I was the one coming out ahead. Jenice's jaw dropped. Before she could wreck my business, I hurriedly fished out the money, pressed it into his hand, and slipped the ring onto my finger.
"Jenice, I'll leave the rest to you."
While I had been browsing the stalls and buying my ring, Cassion had already wandered far ahead. Jenice pulled a face on the verge of tears as she watched me go.
"Miss, let's stay together! It's dangerous, I'm telling you!"
I mouthed the words it's fine and waved a hand high in the air, but Jenice's expression showed no sign of improving. She was right, of course, that a festival crowd is a dangerous place for a young child. But that went for ordinary festivals — a celebration hosted by mages to commemorate Magelake's birthday was another matter entirely. The Mage Association abhors nothing more than trouble breaking out in a region where it keeps a presence, and to forestall any accident before it could happen, mages charged with keeping the peace were stationed throughout the grounds. So if anyone so much as tried to harm us, the mages spread out on all sides would come to our defense. I didn't come out without escorts for nothing.
I sprinted after Cassion, and the distance closed in no time.
"Your Highness, are you having fun? If there's anything you want, just say the word. I'll buy it all for you."
"You have a lot of money?"
"Of course — loads! How many times have I told you?"
"Then buy me everything at that stall."
Cassion did, on occasion, show a startling sharpness of perception. He was pointing at the very stall I had just ordered bought out in its entirety. Since refusing outright wasn't an option, I steered him toward the one right beside it.
"Aw, that one's no fun anyway. This stall has much better things. Look at this, Your Highness."
I crouched down in front of the stall and picked up a necklace — a magic necklace that conjured an illusion of the sea. I had chosen it with Cassion in mind, thinking of how he must never have seen the ocean, sick as he'd been.
"You have a fine eye, my lady."
The mage minding the stall said with a beaming grin, and unprompted, he named his price and launched into his pitch.
"Twenty gold coins, normally — but for such a charming young lady, I'll part with it for eighteen. You may not know this, but cheap trinkets hold their illusions for no time at all, and all they do is show a flat picture. But this piece, made by my own hand — you can hear the ocean, feel the sea breeze itself. Well then, shall I demonstrate?"
Truthfully, the man was better suited to being a merchant than a mage.
"Your Highness, what do you think? Care to see the ocean?"
I asked, excited — and what came down on my head was Cassion's sigh. Exhaling as though I were utterly hopeless, he tugged at the ribbon on my shoulder.
"Get up."
"Why? This thing is nice."
"If it's so nice, buy it yourself. No — forget it. Don't waste money on useless junk. Get up. If you want an illusion charm that badly... follow me."
He scowled as if he'd throw a fit on the spot if I didn't stand. Left with no choice, I set the necklace back down and rose.
"I'm telling you, this is a fine piece! You won't find anything this good and this cheap anywhere else!"
The mage's voice chased after us, desperate to hold us there, and Cassion clicked his tongue.
"A flat-out swindler."
"Oh, come now, Your Highness. A swindler? That's going too far."
"Selling trash at inflated prices — if that's not a swindler, what is?"
I found myself thinking of Loomdrax. A swindler, properly speaking, is someone who sells things that don't exist at absurdly inflated prices. But that man did hand over actual goods, and what he'd been peddling wasn't half bad, either.
"From now on, you come with me whenever you buy magic tools."
Cassion said as he twisted this way and that to keep from bumping into the crowd. Worried he might get knocked clean over, I drew him toward a quieter spot.
"What would you even know about it, Your Highness?"
"I know."
"How would you know?"