Manners Make the Man
"I don't know how to do social dances or anything like that."
"Haa... You... Anyway, fine."
Lorsha grabbed my hand and pulled me along. For someone so small, her grip strength was incredible. Was she actually a descendant of dwarves? Come to think of it, she did say she liked beer. Yeah, definitely a dwarf's descendant.
"I'll lead, so you just match the steps roughly."
"Oh, you know how to dance?"
"This much is basic etiquette."
"Sorry for being such an uncultured person, then."
Lorsha began dancing with me. It was basically stepping to the rhythm, swinging your arms, turning once every few steps. That was all there was to it. Once I memorized it, I could follow along easily enough.
We continued whispering to each other so no one else could hear. Though it was less whispering and more reading each other's lips.
"Oh, you're pretty good at this?"
"Anything physical is easy once you get the hang of it."
"Quite confident, aren't you? Looks like you've been working out."
"I realized that just having magic makes you helpless in a fight."
"......Idiot. You're such an idiot."
Why was she suddenly insulting me out of nowhere? In a game, this kind of toxic user would get chat-banned, but the GM bastard known as God treated user suggestions like they were dogshit, as always. Knowing how lazy this fucker was, I didn't hold much of a grudge.
I observed the movements around us and wrapped my hand around Lorsha's waist.
"Hey, you crazy— what are you suddenly—"
"All the couples attending are doing it like this, aren't they?"
"That's something only newlyweds do, all sticky and close. Just taking a basic stance would be—"
"Our current setting is that we're married, you idiot."
Lorsha's face turned bright red and she fell silent. If God wouldn't give her a chat ban, then this Werner would do it in His place.
After one song ended like that, Lorsha said she needed to use the restroom and hurriedly ran off. Ah, so her red face was because she had to pee.
I started looking for Airi to see what she was doing, and surprisingly found her quite easily. She was surrounded by a crowd of noblemen.
"I am Ginger, eldest son of House Ale. Would you honor me with a dance?"
"I am Prune, third son of House Rakia. Would you grant me the honor of a dance with the lady?"
"I am Coreto, second son of House Grapa. If you're looking for a partner..."
"I am Kiper, eldest son of House Schnapps. On behalf of our family, to foster friendly relations..."
Wow, these family names are something else. Are you guys part of some Black Round Table or what? From first names to surnames, everything's alcohol-related.
I called out the fake name I'd prepared for Airi in advance.
"Iris, what are you doing over here?"
I put on a serious expression, pushed through the booze bastards, and stood in front of Airi. It was a man's duty to chase away these annoying flies. These fuckers—except for the Ale family guy—were all distilled spirits, so why were they holding wine?
Airi seemed quite annoyed by those flies as well. When she saw me, she broke into a bright smile.
"Ah, b— Brother, I was just feeling troubled because I received too many dance requests."
"My, your dancing skills are still quite immature, so you must not have wanted to trouble anyone. However, refusing to dance at the ball hosted by His Highness the Crown Prince would be disloyal... Come dance with this older brother of yours."
I extended my hand, covered in a black glove, toward Airi. She grabbed it with an even brighter expression.
"I'm so happy I get to dance with you, Brother."
"Heh, you're still so young."
While speaking happily, Airi whispered to me.
"I don't know how to dance like this... Do you know how, Master?"
"Don't worry too much about that. I just learned it a moment ago."
"Huh?"
It wasn't martial arts. Matching dance moves like this was simple enough. As the second song began, I led Airi in the dance.
As expected, even though the music changed, it only slightly altered the rhythm. The movements themselves were the same. The same actions with different rhythms every time... These noble bastards had about as much creativity as an ant's ballsack. I wanted to show them Michael Jackson's flashy choreography, but I held back. Reforming noble society was more important than musical enlightenment.
"You're quite skilled."
Airi looked rather displeased that I seemed familiar with dancing. Why did everyone—Lorsha included—get uncomfortable the moment dancing came up? Was social dance some kind of demonic transplant designed to breed professional complainers?
"I learned it from Lorsha."
"Are you close with her?"
"To some extent."
"So you danced the first dance with her, then."
Ah, was that it? The type who gets upset if they're not put first...
"Well, I did dance the first one with Lorsha, but..."
During a move where our faces drew close, I whispered to Airi.
"You're the first one I've danced perfectly with. The dance with Lorsha was a bit sloppy. So you can think of yourself as my first real dance partner."
Airi's face immediately turned red.
"M-Mast—"
"Use the right title, you idiot."
I almost ruined the whole act, fuck. Was I the only one immersed in this performance?
The second song was relatively shorter than the first. After finishing the second dance, I felt a bit hungry and ate some canapés that the servants were carrying around, along with wine. I didn't know what kind of meat was in them, but they were fragrant and bursting with juices. Absolutely perfect.
As I enjoyed this light meal, noblewomen began approaching me.
"Greetings, Count Holstead. I am Piasta, eldest daughter of House Al Dente."
"I am Juicy, second daughter of House Maillard."
"I am Sirloin, only daughter of House Sous Vide."
"I am Olive, third daughter of House Oil..."
Fuck, I was really struggling not to laugh. Why were all their names cooking terms? Between that Mustard bastard, the Black Round Table guys, and now these delicious-looking ones... If you just looked at the list of nobles, you'd think it was a recipe book, dammit.
Since these delicious-looking families were also targets of caution, I decided to subtly probe them.
"Haha, nice to meet you, young ladies. Unfortunately, I've had little connection to high society until now, so I'd appreciate your guidance."
"If it's a request from a handsome man like you, Count, I couldn't refuse even if I wanted to."
The undercooked one smiled as she swirled her wine.
"Thank you, my lady. If it's your request, I'd be happy to grant you anything."
"Haha, Count, you're quite the joker..."
I slightly raised the corner of my mouth and said,
"I'm not the type to lie in front of beautiful women. My late father taught me that."
"Ah... Y-yes... Yes..."
So I'm lying to you, you undercooked bitch. Then I turned to the one who looked like sirloin soaked in water.
"Do you know what this song is?"
"Ah, you mean the piece currently playing? Of course I do. It's a composition by Otto, the empire's greatest composer, known for its rich tones and gentle—"
Why was this bitch suddenly talking about tuna belly? No, Sirloin, I'm asking what kind of meat is in the canapé I'm eating right now, you idiot. I was going to buy some of that meat on the way back, but this bitch has "sirloin" in her name and doesn't even know? Fuck, she should've been named "idiot" instead of "sirloin." I didn't want to talk anymore with people this ignorant about food.
"Ah... I have some business to attend to, so please excuse me."
More importantly, there was something else bothering me. A few nobles who had gone to the restroom earlier still hadn't returned. Unless they were all getting colonics together, some of them should've come back by now. Lorsha had definitely gone to the women's restroom on the other side, so no need to worry about her... But what scheme were these bastards cooking up by gathering together?
If they weren't dueling, I'd beat the shit out of them.
But the corridor leading to the restrooms and various rooms was eerily quiet. With no choice, I closed my eyes and focused all my senses on hearing.
Concentrating all senses on sound. Multiple voices detected from the second room from the inside.
'Kyaa... Marquis... If you do it here...'
'My turn! I summon... in attack position... attack!'
'...So... well... Your mission is... and... make it look like an accident for the Count...'
'Therefore, secretly... and take advantage of that chaos...'
'You idiot sandwich bastards! When I handle... you have to prepare from... and put salt there... How many times do I have to say it before it gets through your fucking earholes...'
Found them. Gordon Ram— No, you rat bastards.
From the sound of it, it was the second door from the inside. As I walked over, I saw a sign saying "Out of Order." They were even asking people to use the outermost restroom. Yet there were bastards shitting inside a broken one—and with their mouths, no less.
"If this plan succeeds, we can eliminate that annoying Crown Prince. And if we kill that irritating countryside count as well... His family will be destroyed, and I'll take his widowed wife and his sister..."
This was seriously listen listen I can't listen. I'd heard enough, fuck.
I opened the broken door and stepped inside. There were bastards wearing robes and that count. His first and last name were like some kind of sauce, fuck...
"What? I definitely locked the door... How did you—"
"Hey, shut the fuck up. I'm trying to remember."
What the hell was this bastard's name again? American? Barbecue? Garlic?
"Ah, got it. Mayonnaise Soy Sauce, you fucker. Who are you planning to kill and who are you planning to take?"
Looking closely, the wrists of the robed bastards had the Black Round Table symbol drawn on them. If I used magic here, I'd get caught. This was bad.
"We'll just move the plan forward. Everyone, kill that guy!"
"Don't give me orders. And I was going to kill the witness anyway."
This got annoying, fuck.
I wedged the staff I was holding between the restroom door handle to lock it.
"What the hell are you doing all of a sudden?"
"Ah, no, just making sure you guys don't leave."
I'm a mage, but lately it feels like I can't use magic and only use Jeet Kune Do.
"I'm grateful my hair and outfit are red right now."
"What?"
"If they were white, I'd have to worry about blood splattering everywhere."
These bastards who had huddled together in a broken restroom of their own accord... They were definitely the type of delinquent high schoolers who smoked cigarettes. And for punks like that, you had to teach them properly.
"Hey, remember this."
"What are you suddenly—"
"Manners make the man. But you're all too late for that, so my manners are going to turn you into corpses."