Partran Festival (3)
Arthur and the others lingering near the First Prince stood frozen, too flustered to find a single word to say.
The spectators, having forgotten even their duty of decorum in the presence of the kingdom's most likely heir, gaped with their mouths hanging open.
Joy stared at me with trembling eyes, the mask of the villainess cracked clean through.
I took in the frozen silence all around me and let out a scream in the depths of my mind.
'Grandpaaaaaaa!'
Gramps, help! How am I supposed to get through this?! I don't know what to do!
<Hold your tongue for the moment. We must see how the situation unfolds.>
I was pressing my lips shut and scanning my surroundings just as the old man had ordered, when the expressions of the stunned onlookers began to stir, one by one.
"This is an outrage!"
One of them shattered the thick silence with his own voice.
It was Arthur.
"Do you think this is some corner of the Academy?!"
Standing beside the First Prince, he stepped forward, feigning fury.
<Quick to read the room, that one.>
'Huh? What do you mean?'
<By shouting first, that boy has just seized control of the situation.>
Arthur's outburst had been an entirely calculated move.
I had committed an act of insolence in front of everyone. Because of that, pretending this never happened was impossible.
As of this moment, I could no longer turn my back on the responsibility for my crime.
But how I would be made to answer for it had not yet been decided, you see.
"The audacity! Do you believe that being the daughter of Sir Benedict grants you license for such arrogance?!"
Arthur had shouted first in an attempt to claim the right to decide the weight of my punishment.
After all, he had the standing of a prince's younger brother to back him up.
"Enough, little brother."
But that standing only existed so long as the First Prince said nothing at all.
The insulted First Prince held the higher position and the firmer claim; if he himself stepped forward, Arthur would have to yield the floor.
"But, Brother—!"
Knowing this full well, Arthur raised his voice anyway.
To protect me.
"I said enough."
Even that had its limits, though.
As the First Prince lowered his brow, Arthur spat out an apology and retreated.
Into the silence that had fallen while everyone watched one man's every mood, the First Prince began to walk, footfalls ringing, straight toward me.
His jet-black eyes were fixed precisely and only on me.
At last he stopped before me and, saying nothing, looked down at me from above—then lowered his face.
And then, as though whispering into my ear, he spoke.
"By your own measure, I am not a pathetic loser anymore. Am I?"
You REMEMBER that?! You kept it in your heart this whole time?!
Well, of course you couldn't forget it!
What kind of lunatic screams that you're a gloomy, pathetic loser with no friends and then just... forgets?!
Having delivered that one line, the First Prince lifted his head again—and there was a smile on his face.
It was not a laugh born of happiness.
I'm no Karia, no genius at reading people, but even I could tell.
That was the smile of someone who has decided he will absolutely, without fail, destroy me with his own two hands.
<At this much, I'd say we're in no real trouble.>
'We're NOT in trouble?!'
<He is not raging and demanding your punishment, is he?>
Well... no, he isn't.
But that man has clearly marked me as his target!
I can literally see him plotting exactly how he's going to crush me!
<You've been marked by an Evil God itself—a mere prince is hardly worth the fuss.>
The old man reassured me that losing one's mind and spiraling was the problem; as long as I kept my wits, things would be fine.
I understand that, okay?
The problem is that this situation ISN'T the problem!
One of the final bosses has just marked me!
As if the Chief God and the Evil Gods teaming up to torment me weren't enough, now the roster's grown by one!
One more person has joined the ranks of those trying to teach this mesugaki a hard lesson!
"I heard you'd become a passably capable human being, but it seems your personality has not changed."
While I was all but screaming inside, the First Prince continued, loud enough to be clearly heard—deliberately so—and every gaze in the crowd turned toward us.
"I hear you are participating in the Partran Festival?"
'Yes. That's right.'
'And how would you know that, you gloomy hermit prince? Are you a stalker?♡'
Please, STOP, mesugaki skill! Read the room! Time it right before you pop out!
Can't you hear everyone around us swallowing their breaths?! Huh?! Can't you?!
"Heh. Good. If you were still the same as before, this would be no fun at all."
I'd braced for him to raise his voice. He didn't.
The First Prince said his piece with a contemptuous snort, then simply turned his back and walked away.
Ironically, it was his own bodyguards who were left flustered.
"Your Highness. You will simply let such insolence pass?"
"That is simply how she is. Raising my voice would only tire me."
"Still—"
"Since she seems to have forgotten, let me remind you. That one is the daughter of Benedict Aln. Considering what he has done for this kingdom, surely this much may be forgiven?"
The First Prince said he was letting it go out of respect for Benedict's deeds—but his true meaning was something else entirely.
The reason he mentioned Benedict's name at all was plainly this: remember that Benedict is looming right behind her.
The bodyguards, and every retainer standing behind the First Prince, had no choice but to fall silent at that name.
Having confirmed that everyone had been cowed into silence, the First Prince led his entourage back the way they had come, and was gone.
Haaaah.
I seriously thought I was going to suffocate to death.
What on EARTH was past Lucy thinking?! What kind of human being was she?!
Absorbing this kind of atmosphere with her whole body and still going around insulting the king, princes, and every other noble in sight?!
Never mind that Benedict had her back—surely she could SEE them noticing?!
Is mesugaki truly a trait that just doesn't give a damn about other people's eyes?!
Well, come to think of it, someone who cared about how she looked to others wouldn't go around wearing dresses more extravagant than a princess's!
I was marvelling at past Lucy in a whole new sense when someone tugged at my sleeve.
It was Joy.
"Really. Lady Aln, you are nothing if not consistent."
Hearing the sigh and the worry tangled together in her voice, guilt welled up in me all on its own.
I'm sorry, Joy. It must be exhausting having a friend like me.
I've got a present set aside just for you, so take it and let this blow over, okay?
I was silently begging her forgiveness, unable to say a single word of apology out loud, when she let out a wry smile.
"Come with me. Arthur says he has something to tell you."
Huh? Arthur does?
Joy led me to an upscale restaurant that catered to people with money to burn.
The moment the server laid eyes on Joy's face, he ushered us into a private room.
"About time you arrived."
Arthur was waiting for us inside.
"Sit. The formal introductions, you've already made—lavishly."
At his words I took my seat at the table, and Arthur immediately let out a sigh and called my name.
"Lucy Aln."
'Yes?!'
'What is it?'
"I owe you an apology."
The sudden apology left my head spinning.
Why is HE apologizing? Isn't the one who should be sorry, well, me?
"My sin is grave—that though I knew full well what manner of man he is, I failed to stop my brother from coming to see you."
According to Arthur, the influence of the Third Prince loomed large behind the First Prince's visit to the Partran Territory—a reclusive shut-in hermit otherwise bolted into the capital.
Ordinarily he had no business attending a festival like this, but when Arthur declared his intention to come, the First Prince's curiosity was piqued, and somewhere in their conversations, the First Prince ended up joining as well.
No. Hold on.
Let me piece this together properly.
That makes YOU the culprit, doesn't it?!
Arthur! You—!
My thanks for trying to protect me: FULLY REVOKED!
If you knew what kind of person "Lucy" actually was, you should have staked your very life on blocking the First Prince's feet at the door!
Why does a guy who ISN'T EVEN THE TANK pull aggro on the boss and turn the whole situation into a dumpster fire?!
"You couldn't have just told him not to come? You really are a pitiful, hopeless prince♡ What exactly are you good at, hmm?♡ Oh—wait, one thing comes to mind. Screaming 'just you wait' after you've already lost♡"
"I TRIED to stop him! But my brother was so stubborn there was nothing to be done! And besides—! Had you simply not spouted your deranged nonsense in the first place, none of this would have happened! Insulting the foremost heir to the throne in front of the entire crowd—what in the world were you thinking?!"
He had a point. If we were weighing fault by the measure, my share of the blame was considerably larger. In raw numbers, it'd probably be a nine.
But summoning the true culprit to this very room earns you at least a one, doesn't it, hmm?
So go ahead and accept my stress-relieving abuse with grace, would you?
Consider that your penance forgiven.
Having cried injustice at the top of his lungs, Arthur soon cleared his throat and recovered his composure.
"The one mercy in all this is that my brother appears to have no intention of imposing any sanction upon you."
Apparently, even after leaving, the First Prince never once mentioned my name.
When his bodyguards and vassals tried to bring it up, he brushed it off as a thing already past—so he clearly had no intention of pressing the matter.
Benedict's name must have weighed heavily in that decision.
After all, who in their right mind wants to make an enemy of the man who took an Evil God's attack head-on—imperfectly, perhaps, but head-on nonetheless?
"However, there is no telling how long it will pass peacefully. If my brother sets his mind to it, even Sir Benedict will find himself in a difficult position. So please, do be careful."
'Noooo problem~'
'And why would I need to do that?'
"Because I am worried about you, that is why! At least pretend to listen!"
Arthur's neck veins bulged yet again, but there was nothing I could do about it.
As long as the mesugaki skill was correcting my speech and my conduct, I was doomed to call the First Prince a gloomy hermit prince to his face.
"Um... Your Highness, Prince Arthur?"
Joy, who had been quietly watching our bickering, slipped in a soft word, and Arthur turned toward her.
"What is it?"
"Is the First Prince participating in the festival as well?"
"He is. He said that having come this far, he intends to claim the title of Slayer of the Festival."
It was miraculous enough that the man had left his territory at all—and now he's ENTERING the festival?!
Why?! What on earth brought about a change of heart like that?!
Reeling from something I'd never once imagined, I remembered the words he'd spat at me on his way out.
This is my fault too, isn't it?!
It's because of ME?!
He can't retaliate directly because of Benedict, so he's going to beat me at my own game instead, isn't he?!
Isn't that a bit too petty for a final boss?!
No. No, wait. That's not the issue here.
If the First Prince is entering the festival, that means I could run into him face-to-face on the festival grounds.
"If my brother is serious, then that title will be his. A pity. You seemed rather earnestly set on it yourself."
"You too, Prince Arthur?"
"Of course. Whatever one does, one must give it one's all."
Oh, great God above. Why dost Thou visit such trials upon me?
I need to ask Gramps whether he can sense the First Prince's presence.
Because if we lock eyes again, something else is absolutely going to happen.
- Ding.
What now, you useless Chief God? I didn't call for you.
I am currently MAXED OUT on stress, in case you hadn't noticed.
If you've brought something capable of easing your Apostle's suffering, by all means, welcome. If not, this conversation is about to get ugly.
Slayer of the Festival
⚔ Win confrontations and emerge victorious at 14 or more vendor stalls!
Wait.
Whaaaaat?
Why did the number change?
Why does it say 14 when it used to say 10?!
USELESS CHIEF GOD! HEY, YOU GARBAGE-HEAP DEITY, AAAAAAH!