Dressed for the Banquet
"Ehehe..."
"Hehehe..."
"W-wait a moment! What on earth is all this—"
"Now, now, we're short on time, so let's get started right away! Ehehe..."
"Don't resist, Lord Logan! We'll make you absolutely magnificent! Hehehe..."
The twins' hands moved with such practiced, relentless confidence that Logan honestly thought he'd feel more at ease subduing a high-risk magical beast or taking on an urgent-rank commission.
Their names were Lulu and Rala.
Said together, "Lulurala," they sounded like a cheerful laugh—bright and adorable names, or so one might think.
But they were, in fact, members of a noble house and capable maids who served at Anastasia's side.
"If Her Highness hadn't shown us such grace back then..."
"Who knows what would have become of us... I can't even bear to imagine!"
Even in the middle of dressing him up, the two never once stopped talking, offering everything from introductions to every story under the sun. Apparently, when their family had been on the verge of ruin, Anastasia had come to their aid in a great many ways.
Having sworn their undying loyalty to her in return, they explained, they had been waiting in this room since earlier today at the princess's own instruction.
At that, Logan felt rather taken aback.
The truth was, attending a victory banquet hadn't crossed his mind at all today.
He had been born a commoner, and back in the day, every waking hour had been spent running errands for Irene—he'd never even set foot near a banquet hall, let alone inside one.
Places like that made him uncomfortable, so naturally, he'd planned to decline the invitation.
And yet Anastasia had apparently anticipated his attendance from the very start, tipping off her maids in advance.
What was she planning to do if I hadn't shown up...
From Anastasia's perspective, she had prepared for it because there was even the slightest chance he might attend, but from Logan's side of things, his heart ached at the thought that she might have gone to all that trouble for nothing.
In any case, thanks to her thoughtful care—
Whoa... is that really me...?
When he finally came to his senses, Logan couldn't help but marvel at his own reflection in the mirror.
The process had been utter chaos, all noise and flurry, but the result was so splendid that astonishment was the only natural response.
It felt a little like singing his own praises, but he'd always privately considered his looks reasonably decent—dressed up like this, though...
"You're incredible, Lord Logan! I'd believe you were a prince!"
"Isn't he just~ Kyaa~ If it weren't for Her Highness, I'd pounce! Ehehe..."
It was perfectly understandable why Lulu and Rala were making such a fuss—he had been transformed into someone so polished and striking it was almost hard to recognize.
Neatly groomed hair, a blue tailcoat tailored to fit him perfectly, and even subtly gleaming accessories.
It was a far cry from his usual plain, practical adventurer's garb—he looked fine enough to pass for a young noble at a glance.
"Come, come! We must hurry and escort Her Highness the Crown Princess!"
"That's right! If we keep this gorgeous Lord Logan all to ourselves, Her Highness will scold us later!"
With that, Lulu and Rala shoved at Logan's back and bustled him out of the room.
"W-wait a moment..!"
Before he could get a single word out, Logan found himself ushered into the corridor. And the moment he turned his head, almost against his will, to look straight ahead—
"!!!"
He couldn't help but swallow a breath that came out as nothing.
Standing there before him, waiting, was Anastasia—dressed for the banquet just as he was.
A woman so breathtakingly beautiful that any admiration for his own changed appearance scattered like dust.
She wore not the commanding uniform she'd had on throughout the subjugation campaign, but a radiant gown made for the banquet.
A pale-lilac silk dress that seemed to drink in the soft moonlight brought out the fairness of her skin and the luster of her platinum hair, while delicate lace and jeweled accents lent her nobility an even deeper luster.
He had always thought her beautiful, but tonight she looked like a goddess descended from a dream—ethereal, otherworldly, impossibly lovely.
"!!!"
Meanwhile, Anastasia, too, found herself staring, spellbound, at Logan as he emerged through the door. It had taken longer than expected to prepare—longer than for her, a woman.
Her first thought had been to wait at the entrance, just in case Lulu and Rala had made Logan uncomfortable or flustered him. If they had, she'd give them a firm scolding later.
But the Logan who appeared surpassed every expectation she'd had.
His black hair gleamed as though it had caught the starlight of the night sky, and his deep-lake-blue eyes shone clearer and more piercingly than she had ever seen them.
Even when she'd first met him as a child, his looks had already struck squarely at her ideal type. And when they'd met again five years later, how wonderfully he'd grown had set her heart racing.
But now, dressed up in a formal tailcoat on top of all that, he radiated a staggering, overwhelming force—enough to smash through a wall, no, every wall, and strike her heart dead center.
How can you possibly get even more dashing, Logan!?
After parting from Logan in the past and returning to the Imperial Palace, even while embroiled in court intrigue day after day, Anastasia had never once forgotten him. Not for a single day.
That was why, while touring the imperial capital, she had happened to spot it passing a tailor's shop—a blue tailcoat the very color of his eyes.
She'd thought how wonderful it would look on him. She'd thought that if they ever met again, she would give it to him as a gift. And she'd bought it—never imagining it would suit him so perfectly it bordered on fantastical.
As though the coat had been made for this very moment, Logan looked like a flawless work of art in his own right.
Ah, you look so handsome, Logan! Beautiful! Perfect! I love it so much! What am I supposed to do with this!?
Even as she stood lost in rapture, admiring him, a faint thread of regret stirred within her. Logan was simply too perfect.
At this rate, the gazes of every noblewoman in the banquet hall would inevitably gather on him. And so jealousy, hand in hand with unease, could not help but creep over her.
No. Absolutely not. What insane woman would dare lay eyes on Logan when the Crown Princess herself will be walking in at his side!? They'd have to be mad!
Yes, surely there was no such woman. Except for exactly one—Irene.
But that woman, well... she had long since forfeited any right to such a thing.
Hmph, what a foolish woman...
So quick to fall for the pretty shell of that worthless so-called Hero, prioritizing looks above all else—
And yet she could never truly see the dazzling, beautiful face of the person who had devoted himself right at her side, closer than anyone.
What a truly pitiful, witless woman.
How she would gnash her teeth and wallow in regret, seeing Logan looking like this. And he never even needed to be dressed up to begin with—
Compared to that half-wit Hero, Logan is a hundred times, a thousand times better—no, beyond all comparison entirely!
How could anyone turn away from such a splendid man? From someone who gave everything—not just his looks, but his whole self?
How could she cast her gaze on another man? Anastasia simply could not understand Irene, no matter how she turned it over.
Well—thanks to that, at last such an opportunity had fallen to her, hadn't it?
And so Anastasia resolved that in place of that foolish woman, she would make Logan far, far happier. Without fail.
Meanwhile, watching the two of them stand frozen, utterly lost in each other's transformed appearances, Renate—standing behind Anastasia—and Lulu and Rala—who had somehow materialized behind Logan—shook their heads in unison.
Goodness... Her Highness, honestly...
Whoa... Her Highness looks exactly like a girl head over heels in love at first sight!
What are you saying, sister! Her Highness's first love is ongoing as we speak! But seeing Lord Logan look this magnificent, falling for him all over again is only natural—kyaa~
All three found the pair's helpless mutual staring so entertaining that they were tempted to leave them be and enjoy the show, but the banquet was due to begin before long.
So Renate deliberately cleared her throat—ahem! Ahem!—while Lulu and Rala raised their voices in a deliberately theatrical clamor of "What is this, what is this!"
At the sound, Anastasia and Logan came back to themselves at the same instant.
"Ah..."
"...!"
Logan had never properly been taught the etiquette of nobility, but stiffly, awkwardly, he extended his arm toward Anastasia in the gesture of an escort.
"Um... Anya..."
"Fufu..."
Something about the sight of him was so endearing that Anastasia burst into a soft giggle.
At that, Logan's cheeks colored slightly, wondering if his attempt had looked ridiculous.
And to him, Anastasia hurried to apologize as she gently took his arm.
"Fufu, I'm sorry. You looked so nervous it was adorable, and I couldn't help myself... Ah! Please, don't misunderstand—it's only because you look truly splendid and dashing right now, Logan!"
At her praise, Logan felt his face grow hotter still, and he stammered out a reply.
"A-Anya is... truly beautiful as well... lovely, even..."
"Wha—!? Ah, th-thank you, Logan..."
Anastasia, her face now red as an apple, murmured the words.
Beautiful... lovely... Countless people had said those words to her before. But never had they sounded so sweet, so intoxicating.
And so Anastasia gazed back at Logan, her expression radiant, dreamlike.
"But Logan, you're the one who's more dashing and handsome..."
"Not at all. You're far prettier and more beautiful, Anya."
"N-no, you! You're far more—!"
The two exchanged compliments as though neither would yield an inch to the other—and even as they did, their faces flushed crimson with embarrassment.
Her Highness... *sigh*...
Oh dear, oh dear, you two, honestly...
Isn't that the truth... It seems we're completely invisible...
Renate, Lulu, and Rala heaved a deep, synchronized sigh and shook their heads.
Looking at the pair as they carried on like this, no one would ever believe—
that these were the Hero's Party member who had contributed the most to felling the Demon King, and the commander of the subjugation army.
They looked like nothing more than a pair of fools, hopelessly drunk on each other and at a complete loss for what to do.
"Anya is more—"
"Logan is more—"
If this went on, forget attending the banquet—their mutual compliments seemed likely to continue forever, right there on the spot.
And so their long-suffering attendants, seeing no other choice, were forced to insert themselves between the two of them once again.