First Date in the Principality [Philia the Blood] (3)
The old man introduced as Furuk had deep wrinkles gathered at the corners of his eyes, yet the clear sparkle in his gaze brimmed with such vitality that it was impossible to guess his age.
“Please call me Pu. Make yourself comfortable, young master.”
“Hello… Pu…”
Furuk smiled at the awkward greeting and personally guided Ria and Marei to their table. Without seeming to have fetched it from anywhere, he filled the glass tumblers halfway with water from a tall pitcher.
“The usual menu you used to enjoy?”
“Bring whatever you’re confident in. If there are recommendations, add those too. This fellow is treating today.”
“Ahahaha, then I suppose I must show off my skills for the first time in a while. I can’t possibly disappoint the young lady’s friend.”
Furuk thumped his chest with a hearty sound and left the room. Marei sneaked a glance at the menu prices and realized there was no need to worry about the cost.
“What? Were you nervous it might be expensive?”
“Ah… to be honest… yes. I was quite shocked by the price of that straw hat earlier.”
“…You really are no fun. You’re so honest that I can’t even laugh.”
Just as Labella had done at the restaurant last week, Marei draped the napkin around his neck. He tried to tie the knot, but the ends wouldn’t fold properly and his hands kept fumbling in the air.
“Hold still…”
Ria rose from her seat, seeing the napkin slipping repeatedly, and tied it neatly around his neck herself.
“Is this your first time at a proper restaurant?”
“It’s my second time, but… this kind of place is new to me.”
Ria nodded in understanding. A faint, sweet peach fragrance tickled his nose. She gave the back of his neck a light pat as if to confirm the knot was secure.
“Well, it’s been a while. This should be fine…”
Ria narrowed her eyes with amusement. Above her crimson irises, the pupils stretched long and slit like a beast’s. She was looking at Marei, yet somehow not looking at him at all. Her expression seemed fixed on something far beyond him. He answered with a small smile.
“You can look forward to the food. Furuk is an excellent cook.”
Ria stared wordlessly for a while at the napkin around Marei’s neck, then placed her own napkin around her neck instead of her lap. She continued speaking about the restaurant—when it was established, its annual revenue, how popular it was with both locals and tourists. She rattled on with topics one would never expect from such a petite girl. Ria spoke as if she had been thirsty for conversation, never letting the flow stop.
Before he knew it, the discussion had moved on to the policies and political maneuvers of Valter’s Governor-General and the Empress. It pained him to admit, but for Marei—who mostly read the gossip columns in the newspapers—these were incredibly difficult subjects. All he could do was nod along.
“Young lady, talking about such things with a man won’t make you popular, you know.”
“…You came out faster than I expected.”
Despite Ria’s crooked reply, Furuk simply smiled as he pushed the food cart forward. Several steaming dishes were laid out across the table. They were luxurious courses that delighted the eye and whose aromas alone made one’s mouth water.
“Will you leave us, Furuk?”
“Do you not require service during the meal?”
“How old do you think I am?”
Ria’s half-lidded eyes curved with quiet laughter.
“A lady of the young miss’s age does not wear a napkin around her neck. If Norman knew, he would scold you endlessly.”
“Hm? Do you dislike this look? Isn’t it one of our charms—appearing far younger than our years? I only wanted to reminisce a little. Did it bother you?”
Furuk’s brown eyes widened. Then he covered his mouth, burst into loud laughter, placed one hand over his chest, and bowed deeply.
“Those are truly nostalgic times. Since even the young lady’s boyfriend has gone to such lengths for this old man, I must at least treat you to dessert as thanks. I’ll need to prepare it now, so please excuse me. As for the attendants who will serve you…”
“Not necessary.”
You’ve truly become a lady while I wasn’t looking. Furuk smiled bitterly. Still, the old man looked genuinely happy, so Marei smiled softly as he watched him leave the room.
“Um… is it wrong to wear the napkin around your neck?”
“It’s not wrong, but it’s usually done by children or the elderly. In terms of proper table manners, it should rest on your lap.”
Ria had also worn her napkin around her neck. She had begun with it on her lap, but after watching him for a long time, she had moved it to her neck. He realized it had been a form of consideration.
“Thank you. I don’t know much about these things.”
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t know. You just have to learn. Staring so intently during a meal is embarrassing, so will you finish eating?”
A small, proud snort escaped her, followed by a faint huff. Seeing Ria’s face turn slightly red as she spoke, Marei felt it would be rude to keep staring. Her fork traced tiny circles above her plate.
“Philia.”
“Yes?”
“My name.”
Just as Furuk had boasted, every dessert was so delicious that Marei had never tasted anything like them. When they had finished, Ria suddenly spoke. She rested her chin on her hand, smiling, her eyes filled with expectation as she looked at him.
“Philia… that’s a beautiful name.”
“That’s it? That’s your only reaction?”
“Um… are you famous?”
“Hahahaha, no. Just… never mind. Yeah.”
Philia was smiling, but that was all. Unlike her earlier delight, her laughter now carried a hint of disappointment she couldn’t quite hide at his dull response. The hand holding her teacup trembled faintly.
“Well, it’s not a bad reaction.”
Ria—no, Philia—closed her eyes and nodded.
“Yes. I was a little surprised, but… actually, this might be the interesting reaction after all.”
When she opened her eyes again, her gaze had settled into a calm, deep crimson as it fixed on Marei. Philia smiled with quiet intensity. It didn’t seem like mockery. Her tranquil eyes simply watched him.
“All right. I’ll trust you. That you truly don’t know me. That we met in the Principality purely by coincidence. All of it.”
At first, Philia had seemed to recognize his name. But she didn’t appear to know about his relationship with Labella. How had she known his name?
“Have we met before?”
“No.”
Her silver hair danced lightly in the air.
“How much do you know about me, Ria?”
“Just your name. I happened to hear it once, that’s all.”
“Earlier the shopkeeper seemed to dislike me—no, the Pawen family quite a bit. Do you feel the same, Philia?”
“Dmitri is nothing but a shabby ghost from the past. I have never enjoyed faded glory, nor do I wish to. I hold no particular grudge against the Pawen family’s green dragon or the Empress. If I were to put it more kindly, I simply think of them as admirable women who are faithful to their roles.”
Praising someone is rather embarrassing. Philia muttered this to herself, then pressed her lips tightly shut. Her crimson eyes opened once more. As if she had shaken off all lingering attachment, she rose lightly from her seat. She removed the napkin from her neck and placed it neatly on the table. Though she had claimed to be copying him, she glanced at Marei’s clumsily folded napkin and spoke softly.
“Good. Then shall we continue what we were doing? There’s quite a lot I want to show you, so today will be packed.”
Philia hummed lightly as she left the restaurant. For some reason, the silver-haired girl looked remarkably refreshed.
“We’ll have to climb quite a few stairs. Want to rest for a bit?”
After the meal, Philia had walked without pause for four hours before pointing to a café. Even calling it packed felt like an understatement. They had walked without time to breathe, hitched rides with strangers, and run around. Though he knew it was rude in front of someone he had just met that day, the moment he sat down, all strength left his body and he collapsed onto the table.
“I have a schedule starting tomorrow, so it has to be today. What kind of stamina is that for a boy?”
“It’s too much… Ria. I can’t even remember half of what you told me. We were running around so frantically…”
Watching Philia casually sip her coffee while still slumped over the table filled him with nothing but admiration. After taking several deep breaths and sitting up straight, he accepted the coffee she offered.
“Hm…? This tastes a little strange…”
“Ah, my mistake!”
It had an ambiguous flavor for coffee—slightly metallic and odd. The moment he tried to take another sip, Philia snatched the cup and poured it onto the floor. He was momentarily stunned by her intense reaction, but then the word “Blood” on the café menu suddenly caught his eye.
“Ugh… did I just…?”
“It’s not human blood! It’s fine! Oh, do you like it? Want to try mine instead?”
Philia began babbling rapidly, looking extremely flustered. It was their first day meeting, yet her usual composure and occasional mature demeanor had vanished. The contrast made him laugh despite himself.
“Don’t laugh… I made a mistake without thinking. Ugh… I barely brought any cash today… Lur, is the coffee on the house?”
“No.”
She seemed to know the café staff as well. Marei grew increasingly curious about what kind of person she really was, but the feeling that he shouldn’t ask kept him from inquiring. He simply smiled wryly, took out his wallet, and ordered a regular coffee.
“There are many vampires here. Isn’t it fascinating?”
“More than that… it’s just that there are so many people.”
“This is nothing compared to Valter. You said you came from Valter, yet you think this is a lot?”
“I haven’t been there long. Before that, I lived in a rural village, so…”
The waiter soon brought the ordered coffee and set it before Marei. Claiming it was on the house, he also placed a small slice of cake between them and winked at Marei as if wishing him luck.
“Then why did you go to Valter?”
“My mother. No, my aunt decided to take care of me.”
“Aunt?”
“Ah, Labella de Pawen.”
Philia emptied her coffee cup cleanly. When she asked for another, the waiter asked if she had money. Philia simply smiled brightly. The waiter, who had firmly refused earlier, sighed and brought her another cup.
“Calling her mother… does that mean Marei has been taken in as the successor’s adopted son?”
“Yes, something like that.”
“Hmm… you said you were sixteen?”
“Fifteen.”
“Yet you attend Valter?”
“Ah, I skipped a grade.”
Impressive. Philia answered briefly and swung her legs back and forth on her chair. She kept glancing over Marei, letting out small, delighted laughs. Come to think of it, he didn’t remember mentioning that he attended Valter Academy or his age.
“It’s hard to guess human ages. Still, fifteen… that’s quite young. Younger than that child…”
Philia’s words trailed off. Marei hadn’t been paying full attention to her, so he missed the last part and couldn’t ask about the questions that had arisen. Both their gazes had become fixed on the television mounted inside the café.
“Boring. There’s plenty to see, but we don’t have time. Shall we head to the best thing last?”
“Yes, Philia… ah, Sister Philia.”
“……I don’t like that title. Just call me Ria.”
The waiter watched with a blank face as Ria grabbed Marei’s wrist and pulled him along, clearly displeased with the new title. “No fooling around,” he said expressionlessly. Of course, Ria dismissed it with “Don’t talk nonsense, Lur,” and left the café.
The sound of bells rang from above. The heavy toll of bronze seemed to make the stairs themselves tremble. Sunlight filtered faintly through the windows spaced along the spiral staircase. Dust sparkled as it drifted through the air before vanishing into shadow.
“J-just a little break, please…”
It felt like his breath would give out. Because windows appeared only sporadically, each time the scenery outside came into view while climbing, it offered a fresh, new feeling.
“This is a special service I only bring people I really like. Not just anyone can come here.”
“Yes… but please, just a moment.”
As Philia said, it truly wasn’t a place for just anyone. On the path leading to the bell tower attached to the church, a large sign clearly printed with “No Entry Except for Authorized Personnel” had been posted. When Marei asked if it was all right to enter, Philia chuckled and declared that she was authorized personnel, brushing off his concern.
“……We’re almost there. Shall we rest?”
“Do you know that’s the fifth time you’ve said that?”
“It’s the fourth.”
Exaggeration is a bad habit. Philia winked with one eye and leaned against the wall. A portion of her silver hair caught the sunlight and sparkled pure white.
“Even if you want to take the Ksakru sisters’ classes, it’s nearly impossible to get in. The competition is that fierce. The older sister tries to give as many points as possible, so that makes sense, but the younger one is incredibly strict with grading yet still popular. It’s rather surprising. Seeing so many boys, I suppose looks really are the issue.”
Philia seemed to know an incredible amount about Valter Academy.
“Julia Pahu? Ah, you mean the demon of the Northern Front? Not many people can pull off a monocle, but her unique aura makes it look cool sometimes.”
“Icher de Valentine… well… she’s a dark elf from the Principality. They know each other, but their relationship isn’t great… no, I dislike making such judgments. You’ll understand once you meet her yourself.”
Although only two weeks had passed since he started attending school, Marei actually knew very little about the academy or the teachers. Naturally, he found himself asking her more about them as Philia spoke as if she knew everything about Valter.
“Nagisa? Asano? Never heard of her. Swordsmanship? That’s not my thing. I mainly use the spear, so I have zero interest. The name sounds like someone from the East Continent. I’m not sure.”
Of course, Philia didn’t know everything. Still, every time she praised Ilien and Julia, his shoulders would unconsciously rise with pride, leading him to ask about the other teachers.
“Lee Ha-woon… she appears occasionally in modern war history. You don’t know? Well, in my case, I have a personal connection since she’s close with my mother. Some people like her carefree attitude given her power, but to me it feels like dereliction of duty, so I don’t particularly like her.”
It was hard to imagine that the cat beastkin teacher who played up the “nyan~” concept was a figure from war history.