Claire's Coming-of-Age Ceremony (9)
How had I forgotten this?
Come to think of it, the game had dropped a hint about it too.
The banquet hall of the coming-of-age ceremony was furnished with spaces where guests could step out for fresh air or catch their breath. Even a ball couldn't be enjoyed nonstop without wearing yourself out, so the venue had made that much allowance for its guests.
The place used most often for exactly that purpose was the terrace — rest alcoves tucked into each corner of the vast hall.
From the moment the coming-of-age episode began, Karsein could slip into any of these terraces to kill time whenever and wherever he pleased. The fact that he'd figured out how to stay out of sight — of his family and the guests alike — for long stretches was thanks to these spots existing at all.
And yet, strangely enough, not every terrace could be entered.
[ A curtain has been drawn. ]
Occasionally a message like that would appear, blocking his way — but oddly enough, the terrace right next to it, with no message at all, would let him in without a word of protest.
The only difference was a drawn curtain. Why should that make any difference? Back then, I couldn't make sense of it.
Wondering if perhaps a helpful Memorial was hidden inside, I waited for my chance and tried slipping in again, but every single time that same message popped up.
Once the banquet ended and I had a chance to poke around, it turned out the interior was hardly any different. To put it bluntly, there was no discernible difference at all.
No Memorial, no special item — nothing like what I'd first expected was visible, and even ransacking every corner without letting my suspicion rest yielded absolutely nothing.
The same terrace, a nearly identical space. In other words, the mere fact that a curtain hung there was enough to turn it into a place Karsein could not enter.
But if I had only dug a little deeper into that hint.
If I had agonized over why Karsein refused to enter the curtained terraces.
If I had realized in advance that a drawn curtain was, for all intents and purposes, a sign saying someone is in here.
Then perhaps none of this would have happened.
"Ow, ow, ow."
The woman rubbed her forehead where we'd collided.
I hadn't seen her coming any more than she had, so my forehead ached too — and I'd landed flat on my backside just like she had.
But now was not the time to be crying about the pain.
A blunder like this...!
The woman was strikingly beautiful, with violet hair, graceful eyes, and a distinctly sharp air about her — and everything from her bearing to her very clothing radiated luxury.
Which meant she was a noble.
The very person Karsein absolutely must not run into here.
First things first — I needed to hide my face.
So she could never, ever recognize me.
"I beg your pardon. I was in such a hurry that I lost my care, and I have committed a grave discourtesy toward you, my lady."
Thankfully, my head was working quickly enough that I hadn't forgotten I was currently posing as a servant. It was a further stroke of luck that I managed to summon, on short notice, the proper lines servants used when addressing nobles.
If I bowed my head first and kept my face hidden, I could stave off the dead flag that would arise the moment Karsein caused a scene.
What was spilled was spilled; nothing could be done about that now.
Whatever it took, I had to steer this Claire's coming-of-age episode past a branch point without triggering the slightest commotion.
The instant even the smallest friction arose with a noble, Karsein would find himself called out for it by one family member or another.
And yet.
I could live with second-best — what I had to avoid was the worst.
And I had a sinking feeling this... was the worst.
"Ah... my dress."
The cup she'd been holding in one hand had collided with me and soaked her dress through.
The whole mess had come from that single falling cup. Water really had been spilled.
Just looking at it made my mind go white and a chill crawl up my spine.
At this point, I had no choice but to gamble — all or nothing.
"I am truly sorry! Please tell me the amount of the compensation and which house you belong to, and I will send payment first thing in the morning!"
I snatched a towel from the provisioned shelf, held it out, and bowed my head low once more.
I would rather die than borrow money — but somehow or other, I would have to swallow my pride, borrow from the House of Bagrand, and buy my way out of this crisis.
Yes, I hated it. I despised the very idea of it, with every fiber of my being. But it was better than dying because I hadn't borrowed, wasn't it?
If this gambit failed, it was a straight shot to a bad ending. Game over!
At that, the noblewoman let out a sigh — such a long, heavy sigh that I heard every last breath of it right by my ear.
Just as I thought it might end there, something soft brushed my cheek, followed by a mysterious stinging pain.
"All I spilled on myself is water, yet you're the one who's hurt badly enough to bleed — so why on earth are you the one apologizing?"
The handkerchief clutched in her white hand had somehow already wrapped around my freshly opened wound.
"You shouldn't be bowing all the way down over something like this. Karsein."
My heart lurched.
She couldn't possibly have seen my face. I knew perfectly well that from the moment we'd fallen until now, she hadn't once gotten a look at it. That was the whole reason I'd bowed my head first.
And yet that name — here?
Dangerous.
"You haven't changed at all. Truly."
In the span of a fleeting instant, this woman had seen through Karsein's disguise as a servant — the disguise that had fooled everyone else.
The moment this woman — who had come swaying toward me with her violet hair swishing, pressing a handkerchief to my cheek just as the bleeding started anew — saw through who I really was.
The first thought that crossed my mind was: this is going to be a headache.
Being on familiar terms with anyone right now was the last thing I wanted. Not with me, Kim Minhyuk — but with Karsein.
I vaguely remembered seeing her once, somewhere over the course of my playthrough. Which meant this woman was one of the game's cast of characters.
But I couldn't place her. I'd thought I'd dug up a fair amount of information across so many characters, grinding affection gauges and abusing the retry trick to learn all I could...
And yet I had absolutely no idea who the woman standing before me was.
I swallowed hard and stole a glance at her.
"So the water spilled. Honestly, that might be for the best. If you came in here, Karsein, I take it you have nothing else on your schedule?"
She was speaking down to me, so I decided I'd better answer in kind, and gave her a vaguely dazed look.
"...Yes. Er, that's right."
"Then stay here a while. I absolutely loathe stepping out and having my energy drained. And if word gets out that I was with you, I'll at least have an alibi, so I doubt anyone will nag me."
She wanted me to stay here? Because her energy gets drained?
Being with Karsein gave her an alibi so no one would nag her?
...Two pieces of information just fell into my lap, at least.
But I still couldn't figure it out.
What kind of relationship this woman had with Karsein.
The woman narrowed her eyes and asked bluntly.
"What's with that face? Don't tell me you hate being here with me?"
"No, it's... it's not that."
If anything, I didn't hate it at all.
As long as she kept me pinned here, time would pass naturally and the objective of this episode would be accomplished. Why on earth would I dislike that?
"Then why do you have that expression?! If you hate it, just say you hate it!"
It was just that I hadn't adjusted to that.
The looks Karsein had received, without exception, were the unmistakably negative kind — disgust, contempt, hostility.
But her reaction wasn't that. Fine, it wasn't hostility — but then what in the world was I supposed to do with a look like that?
There was no way I could ever get used to it.
Just in case, I glanced up above her violet hair — but there was no white box there.
No information at all, huh...
By process of elimination, everyone attached to the House of Bagrand was ruled out. Beyond that, the nobles who had always regarded Karsein with barely concealed distaste were all out too.
Even after wiping out a substantial chunk of the cast in one stroke and narrowing the field, I still couldn't for the life of me identify her.
A character with no affection box — the very box that was swayed by my dialogue choices and, in turn, shaped them. For a player, it was an unbearably frustrating situation.
I was deep in thought, racking my memory for who this woman could be, when she started the conversation back up.
"About my proposal. Did you give it any thought?"
"Which proposal would that be?"
"I sent you a letter... You mean it never arrived?"
At her puzzled question, I nodded without hesitation.
There could be no other answer — the conditions for a letter ever reaching Karsein simply did not exist. Every piece of correspondence addressed to him was handled exclusively by the House of Bagrand, meaning it was filtered out long before it could pass through any servant's hands.
"How strange. I clearly signed my name — Harnie — and I received word from your household's servants that it had been properly delivered..."
Well, it stood to reason they wouldn't know how things worked in this house.
Which worked out rather well for me. It was another chance to learn more about this woman, and if word of this spread to the higher-ups, I might even be able to force the servants to deliver my letters properly from now on.
Harnie, was it?
"You truly know nothing at all about me, Lady Harnie?"
When nobles heard the name Karsein Bagrand, the words that came to mind were beyond plentiful — you could fill an entire sheet of paper and still have room to spare.
She was a noble herself, so she must have heard them at least once. That was exactly what I was fishing for with the question.
"I've caused so many incidents, you see. Letters addressed to me have no chance of arriving. Usually they're discarded by the other members of my family first — because they're so full of abuse."
"Hmm. Really? I hadn't thought that far."
"Since it's come to this, why not tell me the letter's contents directly? What was it about?"
Harnie let out a faint sigh, then composed herself with sudden gravity.
Somehow, I had a feeling the contents were nothing ordinary.
"It was a request that you become engaged to me — for just one single year."
"...I beg your pardon?"
And the contents turned out to be worse than extraordinary. They were practically flag-raising.
In more ways than one.
Ah-hem! Ah-hem!
Karsein burst into a flustered coughing fit, the very instant the contents of that letter — an engagement lasting a single year — had left his lips.
Why on earth would he start coughing the moment she recited it? Harnie narrowed her eyes and asked.
"What is that supposed to mean? Is the idea of marrying me really so repulsive?"
Granted, her dress was soaked with water right now, but she had come thoroughly prepared. Other young lords had recognized her and come over to chat, and among them were more than a few already harboring designs on her.
Harnie herself was reasonably proud of her looks, after all.
So the moment marriage came up, for Karsein's reaction to be this — her pride was bound to take at least a scratch.
"I-I don't think my appearance is so far beneath yours, you know? This is tremendously rude of you!"
"What? No... that's not it... koff!"
"It's because I don't suit Young Lord Karsein's tastes, isn't it? Well, fine — you don't suit mine either. There, we're even. Understand?"
Having finished her rebuke — one hovering dangerously close to outright insolence — Harnie let out a huffy hmph! and snapped her head away with a pout.
Only then did Karsein finish grasping the situation and get to the point.
"So that engagement of yours has some purpose behind it, doesn't it?"
"That's right! I didn't come here offering marriage because I fell for you — I came to negotiate a deal of sorts!"
Harnie had jabbed a finger at him and vented every last word in one breath, then, feeling parched, snatched up a water cup and gripped it tight.
But of course there was no water left in the cup she'd just sprayed across the floor. Karsein carefully picked up the provisioned pitcher and poured into her cup.
Glug-glug.
"So there's no misunderstanding — it isn't that your appearance isn't to my taste."
"...What?"
"Suppose someone came to see you and, out of nowhere, the first thing out of their mouth was a proposal of marriage. Do you imagine you wouldn't be flustered?"
"Well, that's..."
Being flustered is the natural response, isn't it?
I see. Being flustered is...
With that concession, the scratch on Harnie's pride healed right over.
"It isn't that I dislike it — it's simply strange, isn't it? If you'd told me from the start that you'd come to negotiate a deal, none of this misunderstanding would have happened."
Harnie rolled her eyes, sheepish, and took a sip of her water. By the time the cup was back on the table, she was clearing her throat repeatedly.
An easy woman to read, this one.
Karsein gave a small smile and offered his apology.
"Well. I'm sorry. I did react in a way that was bound to give you the wrong idea, Lady Harnie."
"No, I... you didn't need to apologize... I mean, come to think of it, the spilled water earlier was partly..."
"It's quite all right. Please, calm down — and let's return to the matter at hand, shall we?"
Karsein had wrapped up the exchange briskly and steered the conversation back to business.
An engagement of one year, proposed with a purpose in mind.
In other words — a contract engagement. A transaction of some kind.
This was an opportunity.
"What do you stand to gain from a one-year engagement, Lady Harnie?"
"Nothing."
Harnie answered simply.
Simple was one thing — wasn't that too simple an answer? She'd admitted it was a transaction, yet for a one-year contract engagement, she asked for next to nothing.
But the moment he heard the words she added after it, Karsein understood at once.
"Because the engagement itself is my objective."