Whispers Beneath the Festivity
At the very moment Duke Randert was exchanging pleasantries with the Empress Dowager, Bayul was watching Eli alongside Aidan.
"Wow. The man doesn't get a single moment to breathe. Not one."
"Rai really is something, isn't he? He hasn't furrowed his brow once. Is that what they call manners?"
"Manners have nothing to do with it. That's just how he's made. Otherwise there's no explaining it."
"I thought the Gypsy folk were supposed to be full of spirit? I bet Rai's dancing traces back to that too."
"Hard to say. The straightest arrow in existence, with a singing voice like that, now turning out to be a dazzling dancer on top of it all. I'm honestly starting to wonder what he'll pull out next."
It was true. Eli, who had swept the imperial social season clean off its feet with his maddening(?) beauty, was at that very moment answering every dance request flooding his way with a picture-perfect smile, granting each one in turn.
The women who had only ever dared admire him from afar let out actual screams at his first acceptance, and unprompted, began forming a line all on their own with brisk efficiency.
Every one of them wore the face of someone who couldn't believe her luck. The aloof god of beauty they'd assumed would be impossibly cold turned out to treat his partners with more warmth and tenderness than any gentleman among them, and the women toppled, defenseless, one after another.
"Do you think the Crown Prince is offended?"
"You know, with all the ladies' attention drowning Rai?"
"Yeah, well, it's His Highness's birthday today. I just don't want sparks flying somewhere they shouldn't…"
"If that's what you're worried about, I don't think you need to be."
"Huh?"
"Didn't you see earlier? Before he stepped away with His Majesty — the whole time, he had eyes only for Lady Hayes. I thought his gaze was going to bore straight through her."
"Well, everyone was like that after the sparring match, weren't they?"
Bayul had been among them. The difference in build between Commander Jäger and Lady Hayes was striking even at a glance. Setting aside the matter of man versus woman entirely, where Lady Hayes was petite, the commander was a hulking mass of a man. The sight of her felling such an opponent in a single strike had been truly magnificent — and truly shocking.
"That's right. Plenty of people were staring."
Then Aidan suddenly leaned his head in close and murmured into Bayul's ear.
"I've never seen Lanasa make a face like that before. It gave me actual chills."
"You mean when she got Lady Hayes's autograph?"
"Yeah! Her face went all red, and she spoke so shyly — for a second there I thought I was dreaming. I think someone gave her the wrong nickname."
Come to think of it, ever since joining the diplomatic delegation, Lanasa kept revealing unexpected sides of herself. There was her gentle manner toward Lubinsky, and now that reverent expression she'd worn before Lady Hayes.
Was Lanasa's coldness reserved for men alone?
Bayul's speculation careened all the way to a conclusion that made no sense at all.
"If we told Schubik about what we saw today, do you think he'd believe us? He'd have an absolute meltdown about us fabricating stories, wouldn't he?"
"Probably not so easily. But Aidan, why do you keep whispering?"
Aidan's hushed tone had dragged Bayul's voice down along with it.
"Over there."
At the flick of his friend's eyes, Bayul turned — and not far off, he spotted Lanasa standing with a group that could only be her family.
"Those must be Lanasa's parents. They don't look a thing like her. Right?"
Bayul had once seen Lanasa's mother with his own eyes, on the train. The memory of her — so astonishingly like her daughter — was still vivid.
"No, Lanasa's mother isn't…"
He was about to add that she didn't seem to be here when the middle-aged couple flanking Lanasa threw their heads back in hearty laughter, showering their daughter with praise. Compliments poured in from all directions — how lucky they were to have such a beautiful, graceful daughter.
"See? It's their daughter. Then that man must be Viscount Bostridge."
Aidan's words didn't reach him at all.
Am I remembering her face wrong? She definitely had the same strawberry-blonde hair as Lanasa, and violet eyes.
He'd never laid eyes on the father back then, so he couldn't be certain about the man — but that woman was absolutely not her. However many times he looked, and looked again, he couldn't find so much as a sliver of resemblance.
Lanasa…?
Because come to think of it, her expression was rather strange. It had been a long while since she'd seen her family, and yet an awkward current hung over the group somehow. She was greeting them politely, smiling — but something about her seemed stiff, brittle.
"Bayul, this place is suffocating. Want to head out?"
"…Huh? What did you say?"
"Let's go get some air. Rai's got ages left before he's done dancing."
The line of women waiting for Eli still stretched on with no end in sight. As a friend, he had certainly waited long enough. Even if it was an open-air hall, being surrounded by crowds wore on him now that the tension had ebbed.
"What if Quinn and Logan come looking for us?"
"Logan's off paying his respects to his parents, so there's no telling when he'll be back. And Quinn? He'll just sniff us out and find us himself."
"Quinn will *smell* us?"
While Bayul was goggling at one of Aidan's typically absurd remarks, the boy abruptly clapped his hands together.
"Oh! Couldn't we just ask Shame? Tell him to point Quinn our way if he comes looking!"
"…Ha! That would actually work, wouldn't it?"
Bayul's mind flashed bright. Why hadn't he thought of it before? For Shame, the spirit of earth, a task like this would be nothing. The very ground beneath their feet was Shame's domain. It felt almost as if he'd picked up a brand-new skill, and the thought pleased him.
Shame, I'll leave it to you.
There was no reply, but Bayul trusted that Shame was listening all the same.
"Aidan, where should we go?"
"Anywhere's fine, as long as it's away from that."
The moment they slipped free of the jostling crowd, the strain on his eyes and ears eased noticeably. It was much better than it had been before his enrollment at the Academy, but enduring all those stares still never came easily. With his shoulders finally relaxing, the scenery around him registered at last.
"The trees are all withered. Around this time of year they should be bearing fruit, leaves thick and full…"
The sun was sinking beyond the western hills. The sky, washed in crimson, was as lovely as ever — but the gaunt branches and papery, dried-out leaves left Bayul's heart in disarray.
"Strange, isn't it? Why?"
"This region barely gets any natural disasters at all."
"That's a good thing, not a strange one."
"Of course it's a blessing, truly. But how should I put it — it feels like the eve of a storm. Everything here is too untouched compared to everywhere else, and I'm afraid all that misfortune will come at once, later, and bigger. It's like a dread of the future lying in wait, you know?"
Bayul had looked at the people of Carrington living their easy lives under this gentle weather and thought them fortunate. But in some corner of their hearts, they carried the same fear as the people of Hamilton.
"I'll work harder."
The absence of spirits had made the world what it was today. Sometimes he wrestled with the question — why, among all the people in the world, had he been the one to become a Spirit User? — but the more he asked it, the deeper his sense of duty took root.
"I hope more Spirit Users like me keep appearing. Then the world could find its peace that much sooner."
"Honestly, they probably do exist somewhere — they just haven't been found yet. I once heard there was someone with an ability like mine, way back."
Someone blessed with the gift of communion with beasts. Aidan had always dreamed of meeting such a person one day.
"…Well, surely. It'd have to be."
Being the only Spirit User in existence was a thought that chilled him a little. Like shouldering every burden alone.
"Hey, can Spirit Users tell who else is one at a glance?"
"Hmm…"
He had never met another Spirit User, so he had no way of knowing.
"What about you, Aidan? Could you spot one?"
"Me? Beats me. Now you've got me curious, though. Anyway, if someone with my power turned out to be a total piece of work, that'd be really annoying, wouldn't it? Don't you think? Huh…? Hey, isn't that Elaine?"
Bayul and Aidan were strolling along in the middle of their idle chatter when Elaine abruptly entered their view. But the boy wasn't alone. Two men had him pinned on either side, hauling him along as though by force.
"What's going on there? Something feels off."
Even at a distance, the men's faces were ugly.
"Elaine looks pretty cowed, doesn't he?"
"Is he still hung up on what happened on the train? I told him earlier he didn't need to worry about that."
"No, this is something else."
Aidan's instincts were ringing. The expressions on the two men flanking the boy grated on him something fierce.
"Aidan, where are you—!"
His legs were already moving on pure instinct. Aidan pressed a finger to his lips in a hush-me gesture and fell in behind Elaine. He was off before anyone could stop him, so in the end Bayul followed too, footsteps swallowed and quiet.
"Long time no see, huh, Elaine?"
It didn't take long to close the distance to the group in question.
"What's with you, not even greeting your big brothers when you see them?"
"Guess you weren't happy to see us at all, huh?"
"…"
"What's the matter with you, punk? Cat got your tongue?"
"Ignoring us now? You've gotten a lot bigger since we last saw you, huh?"
Listening in, it seemed the two were Elaine's older brothers. But the sneering tone, the insolent swagger — to anyone watching, it looked less like brothers and more like tormentors.
"…I trust you've been well."