A Tiny Sprout (4)
When my hand came down hard on the table, the giggling idiots clamped their mouths shut at once.
Someone else's first date? Someone else's date location? Someone else's dating course?
Right. They'd no doubt assumed it was all perfectly fine — that their own rules applied, as much as they pleased. After all, this was a meeting between a noble man and woman.
"Isn't that truly hilarious, though? The idea that a meeting between myself, of the Vagrand Ducal House, and Harnie, of the Theresia Marquisate, must follow your rules to the letter."
But the enforceability of those rules extended only as far as the bounds of nobility.
The moment a family name was invoked — a *ducal* name at that — all that authority crumbled with ridiculous ease.
Beyond mere pointed remarks or unsolicited advice, this was deception and insult. Their words and actions left plenty of room to be interpreted very differently from my position.
"Why has everyone become a mute? I don't recall you all being so hesitant to speak, back when you acted like you knew far more about me and Harnie than we did."
"..."
The nobles present could only fall silent under the weight of a house name raised against them.
I'd best deal with this sort of thing thoroughly, while I was at it.
"You there."
"Y-yes?"
"Come over here and talk. Who was it that created that rotten, festering rule of yours? I intend to grab them myself, right here, and ask them the very same question."
"W-well, that is..."
The man, his face caked in layers of powder, stammered and stumbled backward.
He'd struck me as one of the louder voices in this crowd, which was why I'd picked him — and it seemed I'd chosen correctly. Anyone hoping to survive a situation like this sells out someone else. All the more so when there were higher-ranking nobles in the room.
And yet this man uttered not a single name.
Which meant only one thing.
The one who made up this rule was him.
I stood before him and said it to his face.
"Go on, then. Who told us to follow that interminably boring rule? Surely we ought to at least hear how magnificent a dating course it must be, if the Vagrand Ducal House and the Theresia Marquisate are expected to follow it."
At that, Harnie cut in without warning.
"Karsein. The man you're holding is the very person who created that rule."
"H-Harnie, my lady...!"
"Oh? Is that so?"
"Yes. This is the man who declared it common knowledge that a proper first date consists of gazing at the same scenery while calling it a charming spot, listening to an opera at the same theater, then crossing that pitiful excuse for a bridge they call a cloud bridge before holding an utterly trite campfire in the dead of night."
Nice timing.
As she picked apart the flaws of that well-worn course piece by piece, I could play along and crush their dating rules underfoot.
"How utterly pointless. You expect me to take Harnie on a first date following *that* course? I'd sooner spend the time strolling through a festival street, taking in the specialties of foreign lands."
"I'd rather die than sit through such a pathetic campfire too. A sky blooming with multicolored fireworks is far, far prettier."
"And I'd much rather win one more prize at the festival to adorn that beautiful face of hers than walk across some cloud bridge a hundred times over."
"And that dusty old opera is far too outdated! Everyone calls it cultured and refined, but─"
From then on, Harnie and I shredded that rule to pieces, savagely and in tandem.
Every now and then she'd send me a pleading signal that her embarrassment was killing her and would I please stop, which made teasing her its own little reward.
So then.
To summarize:
"Tsk. Don't so much as mention that garbage course again, any of you."
With those words, the noble couples had no choice but to cower, tails tucked, without so much as a peep.
Having smothered the party hall in sly, greasy rhetoric, I made my exit, taking what comfort I could in the deflated expressions of those rotten nobles.
Of course, if there was one problem—
"Hhh..."
—it was that my fiancée had caught the splash damage and was now exhibiting symptoms remarkably similar to theirs.
"Karsein. I still feel like my fingers and toes are curling up because of you. Where on earth did you even learn to talk like that...?"
"...I didn't learn it anywhere."
"R-right, of course not? No one could teach this sort of thing, in a manner of speaking. Then did you read some strange book? Some *very* odd etiquette manual, perhaps..."
Excuse me, Miss Fiancée. Is that really something you should say to your fiancé?
When I shot her a pointed look, Harnie cleared her throat with a polite *ahem*.
"In any case, thank you for helping me. Thanks to you... I don't think I need to worry about that group anymore."
According to her, Harnie had been lying all along — pretending to have a fiancé.
It had been her best available means of driving off suitors and, of course, of avoiding being sold off in a political marriage.
The men who came calling could indeed be turned away with a token of a lover, but when high society pressed her relentlessly — demanding she prove herself the way real couples of noble standing were expected to — she'd found herself cornered, little by little.
She'd called those rules outdated, and honestly, by my own estimation they truly were dusty old relics.
"That torment ends today. Now that it's known I have a fiancé."
*Hnngh—* she stretched, loosening up her body.
Just hearing her voice, I could feel how relieved she was.
"I suppose it's time I actually paid for all that help. Would it be all right to settle it in the carriage?"
Harnie held out her hand as she asked.
I accepted her suggestion to return to the carriage without a moment's hesitation and took that hand.
"Allow me to escort you, then."
.
.
.
Unlike the trip to the party hall, the horses didn't spook under Tellumoth's influence this time.
The correct conclusion was that the sub-episode had progressed in the right direction, and the three men had cleared off after hearing what I had to say.
The driver had injured his arm as well, but thanks to healing nearby, he held the reins without trouble.
Every result matched the game exactly.
In other words, my hunch that I could pull episodes forward and complete them early had proven spot on.
Which made what I needed to prepare all the clearer.
I'd been planning to make one small request of Harnie — partly to make up for ruining my own image earlier.
But that thought soon evaporated.
"..."
Exhausted, Harnie was nodding off over her documents.
She rubbed her eyes, clearly trying to fight it, but it didn't last long. Before I knew it, her eyes had closed.
Those violet eyes were hidden beneath heavy lids.
And slowly, she began to tip forward, losing her balance.
Oh dear.
I'd cleared out the entire sub-episode just so the carriage wouldn't jostle — it wouldn't do for her to crack her head on the floor now.
She'd been dozing with her head bobbing, and just as her body threatened to pitch forward, I gently caught her shoulder.
"Mmm..." A soft sound escaped her lips, but thankfully she didn't wake.
Come to think of it, Harnie had seemed short on sleep despite having escaped the marquisate and spent the day at the ducal house. She'd mentioned having work to do, between yawns.
She had to have been pushing herself hard. Anyone who clings to paperwork even in this state of drowsiness—
There was a time when I did the same, secretly cutting down on sleep, desperate to claw my way out of that house.
It wasn't a matter of life and death the way it was in this world, but I understood that feeling all too well.
Now, what to do, though.
I couldn't just leave her like this. But did I have anything for her to lean on? ...Not exactly.
It couldn't be helped.
I shifted to the seat beside Harnie and cracked open the small window used to speak with the driver.
"Driver. Lower your voice and listen. We're changing our route."
"Where to, my lord?"
"Same destination — but take us through the crowded capital streets, and drive slowly."
"Er... young master. That will delay your return home considerably. Are you quite certain?"
"It's fine. That's precisely why I'm asking you to slow down."
The driver nodded his understanding and, as instructed, eased our pace.
Once the carriage slowed, I moved carefully, guiding Harnie's head to rest toward me.
Yes, I'd ended up pulling her shoulder against mine once more — but this was purely precautionary. Let's call it unavoidable skinship.
It wouldn't be terribly comfortable for her, but if there was anything at all to lean on right now, this was the best there was.
And then, playfully, I complained.
"Honestly. How do you expect to fall asleep with a strange man's eyes wide open, staring right at you? Tsk."
Though it was a joke, of course. Entirely a joke.
What remained was those documents of hers.
Once I pried them out of her grip, she'd have a good hour or two to sleep before we reached the marquisate.
-Flap.
There we go. I'll deal with this later... hm?
A report concerning a certain territory came into view — topography, products, and a whole collection of related information all at once.
And strangely enough, the name of that territory felt rather familiar to me.
📍 Subject: Regional survey — terrain, resources, and production
🌾 Specialty: Rare crops of the former imperial demesne
When she'd yawned in answer to my question about whether she'd slept poorly, Harnie had said it was because she had work to do.
She'd been clutching this very document all day in the carriage. Save for the time she'd entered the party hall, it was safe to say she'd spent the entire time organizing it.
She'd been holding it right up until a moment ago. This was the document in her hands when those eyelids finally closed.
And then.
Right after boarding the carriage—
"I-I *will* repay you properly, you know? Hmph. Just you wait. I'll bring you something worthy of satisfaction."
—that was what she'd grumbled.
...Don't tell me. Is this it?
Gazing at the sleep-talking Harnie, I found myself unwittingly dumbfounded.
It didn't take long to piece together. Whatever way you looked at it, this had to be what she'd meant — the satisfying thing she'd promised to bring me.
It occurred to me that she must have suffered quite a bit, cutting her sleep short to prepare this.
To think I'd receive kindness from this woman... something I never even got from my own family.
Truly.
I just couldn't get used to it.
The sun was setting.
Midday had warmed enough that one's breath no longer showed white, but once the sun went down, the air turned cold enough to bring it right back.
Even so, one girl stood outside the mansion.
Staring blankly at the main gate of the ducal residence, she remained rooted to that spot beneath the moon that had begun to rise.
Watching her, a worried member of the family fetched a fur and draped it over her shoulders.
"How long are you going to stay out here? Flora."
"Arina. Big sister."
At her eldest sister's touch, the youngest's head turned briefly.
But before long, her gaze drifted right back to the main gate.
Arina swallowed a sigh and tried taking Flora's hand.
"Flora. Winter may be ending, but it's still cold. Let's go inside and wait. All right?"
"...I'm fine."
"Your legs will go numb if you just stand here and wait."
"They won't. Sister. I'm really fine."
"Hoo."
In the end, that heavy sigh escaped her lips after all.
For reasons unknown to the rest of the household, Flora had been lingering there since broad daylight. She simply stared at the same spot, and even when the maids coaxed her to come inside, she didn't budge an inch.
Even at mealtimes she'd only stopped by the dining hall briefly, her head turned the entire while toward the view of the main gate.
The cause was one person.
Karsein.
He's never once done anything like this before. What on earth did he say to her, to leave Flora like this...?
From what she'd heard, before Karsein went out, Flora had visited his room and the two of them had spoken.
She hadn't caught the contents of that conversation, but she knew full well that this was what had followed.
I can't keep looking past this any longer.
Wasn't this going too far, no matter how you sliced it?
Resolved to have a word with him the moment Karsein returned, Arina turned back toward the mansion.
"..."
While her eldest sister walked away—
Flora still hadn't taken her eyes off the main gate.
"Please don't hurt... Karsein..."
It had only been a small cut.
With or without salve, a few minutes of pressure would have stopped the bleeding — nothing serious at all.
Anyone overhearing her would probably laugh at her for making such a fuss over nothing.
But every time she'd seen that red liquid, Flora simply couldn't calm herself down.