The Waltz of the Stars (6)
Immediately after Julian and Charlotte disappeared into the reception room with the Prince and his wife, the ballroom began to stir like a disturbed hornet's nest.
"What did he just say? A gift of a baby?"
"Has the Baron's adopted son finally lost his mind?"
"The Prince called him aside privately... no matter how I look at it, something big is about to happen."
Some behind their fans, others over the rims of their wine glasses—the gazes of the young nobles were fixed on the door to the reception room. This was no different for the other young nobles who had been chatting amicably with Freya.
"I thought he was extraordinary when I heard about the Belheim incident, but I didn't realize he was to this extent," muttered the young Master Heide, who was standing by the terrace, pushing up his glasses. He then shifted his gaze to Julian's party.
"Lady Freya, is Julian always like that?"
"Pardon? Oh, yes. My brother sometimes says things in a strange way. This must be one of those times."
"What do you mean by 'strange'?"
"He tends to cut out the context and state the conclusion first. It often makes the listeners' hearts drop."
Erika, who had been silently chewing on a sausage next to Freya, swallowed and opened her mouth.
"They say geniuses are all like that. He was the same with me."
"Indeed, it is often said that geniuses are like that." Young Master Heide stroked his chin and nodded.
"Then, Lady Freya, is Julian really saying that His Highness can have a child?"
"Yes. My brother is not the type to say things he cannot handle."
"Hoo. After the Count of Belheim, now even the Prince..."
Young Master Heide's gaze remained fixed on the reception room door. Thirty minutes had already passed since they vanished behind it.
Creak.
The firmly closed door opened. Every eye in the ballroom turned to one spot. First to emerge were the Princess, Charlotte, and the royal guards. The young nobles noticed that the corners of the Princess's eyes were red. It wasn't difficult to guess that she had shed a good amount of tears in there. Though, what those tears meant, no one yet knew.
The Princess and Charlotte returned to their seats. Then, the reception room door closed again. Julian and Edmund did not come out.
"They're not out yet?"
"Are they left alone with the Prince?"
"To send the Princess away and talk just between the two of them..."
"It must be no ordinary matter."
More time passed. It didn't take long for the door to open again. Edmund stepped out. And he was walking side-by-side with Julian. Edmund, who had turned his back to Julian when entering, was now walking abreast. The Prince even had a smile plastered across his face!
There was only one meaning to the Prince smiling so brightly.
"My god..."
"Did he really pull it off?"
"Even the high-ranking healers said there was no way?"
In the center of everyone's gaze, Julian and the Prince were chatting affectionately.
"I understand your concern regarding the Princess's petechiae. However, if she takes the medicine I provide consistently, it will disappear soon, so please do not worry too much."
"That, too?"
"Yes. From then on, you won't need to cover it with a lace collar; you'll be able to wear your favorite clothes comfortably."
"To even take care of such things. As expected, Sir Julian. Would you consider becoming my personal healer?"
Personal healer. A chill ran down the spines of the young nobles who heard that word. A personal healer is a position entrusted with the lives of the Imperial family. It is a proposal rarely made even to high-ranking healers who have proven their integrity and neutrality throughout their lives... yet such a proposal was being thrown at the adopted son of a Baron in the middle of the Founding Festival banquet.
But even more surprising was Julian's reaction.
"That is an excessive honor, Your Highness. However, as a doctor, it is difficult to become the exclusive physician for a specific individual."
"Why is that?"
"If I were to become Your Highness's personal healer, I would have to use my entire daily schedule waiting for you."
"I suppose so."
"But you are not the only person who needs me."
"Ha." Edmund let out a sigh.
"If you put it that way, it would be rude of me to hold you back."
"Thank you, Your Highness."
"But hearing that, I want you even more. Truly, my personal..."
"..."
"...It's a joke. Please, don't look at me with those eyes."
Haha. Edmund laughed and patted Julian on the shoulder. It was a soldier's greeting, reserved only for trusted comrades who had been through the battlefield together.
"Exclusive or not, it doesn't matter. Let's keep this connection alive. I'll be waiting at the detached palace tomorrow."
Edmund returned to the Princess. The moment Julian turned to head back to his seat, a wall of people blocked his path.
Julian was momentarily flustered by the crowd obstructing him. A young lady approached him, smiling from behind her fan.
"Sir Julian. Would you perhaps grant me a dance tonight?"
"I apologize, but I have a fiancée..."
Before Julian could finish his polite refusal, another voice cut in from the side.
"Lord Julian. I am Fritz of the Baron Volf family. My father has a long-standing connection with the Nihilit Baron family, so I wanted to pay my respects."
Behind the young man reaching out for a handshake, another young lady slipped into place.
"I heard about the Belheim incident. If you have time..."
Those asking for a dance, those offering a handshake, those trying to strike up a conversation. The forms were all different, but they shared one commonality. Those who hadn't even given Julian a glance during the earlier conversation were now showering him with fervent attention.
Erika tilted her head, skillfully reheating her cold meat with magic.
"Why is everyone suddenly like that?"
Freya, hearing this, narrowed her eyes. It was because even while saying that, Erika's fork never stopped moving. A deep sigh escaped Freya's lips.
"Sister. Do you not realize what a monumental thing just happened?"
"That our Teacher caught the eye of the highest-ranking person?"
"Yes... well... that's not entirely wrong." Freya barely managed to stop herself from rubbing her forehead and continued her explanation.
"He is someone who has performed distinguished military service on the southern front for three years. Although he is the 12th Prince and effectively has no right of succession, it is almost certain that he will be granted a Marquis title and independence from the Imperial family due to his military merits."
"So?"
"And the Princess is the daughter of a Duke."
"I see."
"The Imperial family was trying to push for an annulment due to inheritance issues. But they couldn't proceed easily because the other party was a Duke's family. But if my brother solved that problem..."
"So he gained a strong backer. That's a good thing."
"Is that all you have to say, Sister!?"
Erika chuckled at Freya's reaction.
"Actually, I don't understand why you're so surprised."
"Pardon?"
"I've been by Teacher's side for so long. This much is only natural. No, if anything, I should say it's late."
Nom. Erika emptied her plate, tossing the last piece of meat into her mouth. Seeing this, the words 'Is food really that important?' rose to the tip of Freya's tongue. But before Freya could utter them, a sharp scream suddenly erupted from Julian's direction.
"Ah-!"
Freya turned her head. In front of Julian, a young lady was crouching down, clutching her shoe.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Lord Nihilit... I think I twisted my ankle because of my shoe... could you perhaps take a look for a moment?"
Julian, as if it were natural, knelt down and began to examine the lady's ankle. He checked for tenderness by pressing his fingers into various spots on the ankle, fixed her calf firmly with one hand while pulling her heel forward, and moved her heel this way and that. The young lady who claimed to have twisted it was actually flustered by Julian's unexpectedly professional examination.
"Tsk."
Freya, watching this, clicked her tongue briefly.
"On the way home, I must tell my brother about that lady's romantic history. My brother is just too kind-hearted."
Erika, moving toward the dessert section with a new plate, replied nonchalantly.
"You don't need to worry about that."
"Pardon?"
Erika, who had already brought a tart, said as she speared it with her fork.
"Do you know how many women in the slums tried to hit on Teacher to change their fortunes? But Teacher never even gave them a glance. He always said something whenever that happened."
"What did he say?"
"A patient is in their most vulnerable state in front of a doctor. So it's easy for them to harbor feelings for the doctor who treats them. Because they're grateful. Because they rely on them."
"I suppose that's true, isn't it?"
"But Teacher says he shouldn't accept that. The moment a doctor accepts a patient's favor, the doctor loses objectivity. And a relationship that starts like that easily turns into exploitation."
"Ah."
Freya nodded slowly. It was a logic that was certainly convincing. And knowing her brother, she had faith that he would uphold that logic to the end.
"Then I'm relieved."
"Right? So that girl's schemes never had a chance to work from the start."
Nom. Erika finished the tart. Just then, the music changed. A grand performance centered on string instruments began to fill the ballroom. It was the start of the dance. The tables in the center of the ballroom were pushed toward the walls by the hands of the servants. The cleared center became the dance floor, and the buffet and seating were rearranged to surround it. Erika and Freya took their places at the buffet corner. It was a position where the entire ballroom could be seen at a glance, good for both eating and watching.
As the music began, Julian managed to escape the crowd and headed toward Charlotte. Julian extended his hand toward his fiancée. Charlotte puffed out her cheeks and took his hand. The two moved to the center of the dance floor.
"I will allow you to dance here."
The Prince had allowed them to dance near the spot where he and his wife were dancing. With that, Julian's stock soared even higher. The young men and women who could no longer approach Julian naturally sought their next target. It was Julian's party.
"Lady Freya. If you don't mind—."
"I apologize, but I didn't come here for such things today. And it's still a bit early for me."
Freya smiled and politely declined. Such proposals naturally came to Erika as well.
"Lady Erika. Would you grant me a dance?"
"I apologize, but I already have someone in my heart."
"“Pardon?”"
The young man and Freya were surprised at the same time. Erika, unbothered, tossed a piece of tart into her mouth. Thus, the two repelled the first dance requests. But as one retreated, another approached them.
"Then, perhaps the next song—."
"I told you, I have someone in my heart."
"Lady Erika, I am from the Lilienthal Viscount family—."
"I have someone in my heart."
It was a canned, identical answer. The situation was much the same for Freya.
"Lady Freya, just one song—."
"I am truly sorry."
"If so, could I contact you separately later—."
"That would also be difficult."
The young men retreated, approached again, retreated, and approached again countless times. Erika set her fork down on the plate with a clack.
"There's no end to this."
Erika turned to Freya. "Let's dance together."
"Pardon?"
Freya was momentarily flustered. But she soon realized Erika's intent. Dancing between people of the same sex, or family members, was a signal in this social circle: — 'I am not here for courtship activities today.' Occasionally there were real same-sex couples, but those were extremely exceptional cases. Usually, ignoring this signal and asking for a dance was considered a breach of etiquette. This was why Erika had asked Freya to dance.
"...Alright."
Freya took Erika's hand. As the two moved to one side of the ballroom, two young men who were about to follow them stopped in their tracks. Same-sex dancing. Reading the meaning, the young men bowed one by one and retreated. In a corner of the bustling ballroom, a space for just Erika and Freya was created.
Erika's dancing was clumsy. She was leading, but it was the lead of someone who had never received formal training. If Freya hadn't matched her steps from time to time, they would have tangled several times. Then Erika opened her mouth. In a voice audible only to Freya.
"Freya. Do you know this?"
"...Yes?"
"There's an old man I know in the lower district who always says this. That not everyone can start from the same starting line."
Freya's foot was a beat late. "...Why are you saying that all of a sudden?"
"I am still a patient and a commoner to Teacher."
Freya's hand stopped. At that moment, Erika's chronic illness came to mind. That was right. From the beginning until now, Erika had always been Julian's patient. Even if her identities as bodyguard, guest, and assistant overlapped, the fact that Erika was Julian's patient always remained. And Julian always...
As her thoughts reached that point, Freya's dance faltered by half a beat. But Erika did not stop. She continued her clumsy lead and said calmly.
"All I can do now is eat well and sleep well, and get healthy as soon as possible. Because I have to check if my heart is the same then."
Freya looked up at Erika. A scene flashed through Freya's mind at that moment. — "Sister, please just grow up healthy." Erika, who would always chuckle whenever she heard those words. "Could it be..."
Erika chuckled at Freya's reaction. A laugh no different from usual. Freya did not ask the meaning of that laugh. The two danced in silence for a while. Then, as the song reached its climax, Freya asked Erika a question.
"Sister, what do you want to do when you get healthy?"
"Let's see..."
Erika looked up at the ceiling. The chandelier light reflected in her crimson eyes. "I think I'll try applying to be a hero first. Or maybe a knight or a mercenary. If I perform feats outside the walls, maybe I could become a noble too?"
At those words, Freya stared at Erika, lost in thought. It was a night where the profile of Erika, continuing her clumsy lead, looked exceptionally large.
*
After the dance ended, the two left the ballroom and returned to the buffet corner. As soon as Erika sat down, she picked up a new plate. And she began to sweep the food from the buffet onto it.
"I'm hungry after dancing."
Sausage, chunks of cheese, tarts, smoked salmon, meat, and bread. When Erika first brought the plate, Freya had looked at Erika with pitying eyes. Because she thought that was the best Erika could do right now. But the tower on the plate kept getting higher. Freya, watching this, opened her mouth.
"Well... it's good to eat well and sleep well to get healthy as soon as possible... but isn't this too much, Sister?"
"Hmm?" Erika stopped her fork and tilted her head.
"That is that, and this is this."
"...Pardon?"
"No, I'm just eating this because it's delicious? It's not like a person can only live by eating healthily, right?"
Leaving those words behind, Erika stood up again to fill her plate. Blink. Freya blinked her eyes twice. Just how deep is Erika's depth? Freya's mind was confused by that ambiguous sense of depth. Whether or not that was the case, Erika was just emptying her plate with the momentum that she would make history today.