She Looks Like a Fairy Once More - 2
Whether it was penance for breaking my promise to Later and giving Erich advice, sleep simply would not come no matter how I shut my eyes. The moment I closed them it felt as if I ought to drift off at once—was this Later’s curse? In the end club hour arrived and I still had not managed a wink by the time the other four showed up.
“Lady Luise, Young Master Erich. You arrived first, I see.”
Ainter strode in at the head of the group, flinched at the sight of only Luise and Erich, then relaxed the instant he spotted me wedged in the corner. He must have decided that three of us rather than two meant nothing improper could have occurred.
Regrettably for Ainter, there had in fact been a stretch when the two of them were alone while I was away. Yet amazingly, nothing happened even then. Truly astonishing.
Will this even be settled before graduation?
These idiots have to finish their contest over Luise before they leave the Academy. At the very least a clear defeat has to be handed down so they’ll accept it and go home; if the rivalry drags on they might dig in their heels and stay in the Empire even after graduation. Just thinking about it is pure delight. Far too much delight.
Still, if it goes to overtime I won’t have to babysit them myself. I choose to believe that.
“Oh dear, only the three of you? Had I known, I would have slipped out midway and joined the fun.”
At Ryutis’s shameless talk of ditching class I quietly lowered my gaze to the floor. Absolutely no second season after graduation. Even if the original work had gone on to a second or third part, I would end everything at Academy Season One no matter what.
For the sake of my sanity I have to stake my life on it.
Last night I learned that Karl had suddenly gone to the Imperial Capital.
—The Magic Lord went looking for that fellow, they say.
“Father.”
—…Yes, she went looking for Karl.
Father still looks askance at Karl for refusing the marriage talks, yet he is fond of him in his own way and still regards him as a prospective son-in-law. That is why, even when he lets a harsh word slip, he softens the moment I ask him to take it back. Father really is hopelessly honest with himself.
In any case, Karl’s unexpected trip to the capital. He had returned by afternoon, thankfully, yet the fact that the Magic Lord herself had summoned him gnawed at me. The Magic Lord is… well… someone who occupies far too much of my mind. So the instant morning came I set out for the Baking Club room.
Surely not. It can’t be.
The Magic Lord’s face rose before my eyes, then her age, and finally the fact that elf blood runs in her veins. How many thoughts can race through a mind in so short a span? If—just if—my suspicion were correct…
What if she is after Karl as well?
An unforeseen variable made me bite my lip. I had believed I was the only one. That the only person qualified to stand at Karl’s side was Margeta Barenti herself. But if the Magic Lord interposed herself…
No. Impossible.
I shook my head hard, banishing the anxious thought. She has lived alone for more than a hundred years. She would not suddenly change her mind. It must have been official business. Of course it was. It has to be.
Yes—right now I am simply going to see Karl after a long absence. I had already planned to visit today; hearing the news last night was pure coincidence. It is not because I am anxious. If I leave Karl alone too long he might grow upset, after all. Yes. That is all.
I repeated the reassurance to myself several times until I reached the club-room door, straightened my clothes, and knocked carefully.
“Young Master Karl? Are you there?”
No answer. Strange—he ought to be here at this hour.
Don’t tell me… again?
Had the Magic Lord carted him off two days in a row? Ridiculous. Who abuses power like that? It’s underhanded. I would love to do the same and cannot.
I swallowed the unfairness rising from deep inside and opened the door. If Karl were gone I would simply wait. Even if he were out he would return to the club room eventually, and Karl being Karl he would feel guilty that I had waited.
“…Young Master Karl?”
What I found inside was quite unexpected. Karl was there, yes—only he was slumped over a desk, sound asleep. That was why he had not answered.
The novel sight stirred my curiosity; I approached him on quiet feet. I had never seen Karl sleeping. I never imagined I would see it like this. I had thought I would only witness it after we were married and living in the same manor.
He really is handsome.
I gazed at his face and nodded in satisfaction. How lovely would a child of ours be? Black hair and green eyes? Or red hair and black eyes? Perhaps a daughter who looks exactly like him, or a son who takes after me.
Either way it does not matter. Black and red go beautifully together; whatever comes will be beautiful. Heh… heh-heh…
…White is…
The sudden thought made me bite my lip again. Black and white? What kind of combination is that? They do not match at all.
While my insides burned, Karl slept on in perfect peace, which only made me peevish. I had been fretting since last night and here he was, sleeping without a care. Even Karl was hateful for the moment.
No matter that Karl is as good as mine, no matter that I can wait patiently for him to come to my side—I cannot help worrying every time he wanders off somewhere.
Mine?
My gaze drifted to his lips. Mine. At present a rather free-roaming mine. In that case… does he not need his owner’s mark?
As if possessed I leaned toward his face—then sanity returned and I jerked backward. No. I cannot squander the first time so cheaply. What meaning does a first time hold if Karl himself does not remember it?
Embarrassment spun me around; I fanned the heat from my cheeks. Anxious or not—no, anxious my foot—I had nearly gone too far simply because I felt guilty for neglecting him.
“Mar? When did you arrive?”
Not long after, Karl’s voice reached me.
That… was far too close a call…
The sleep I had failed to win the night before arrived the instant I reported for club duty. When I opened my eyes again I found a thoroughly flustered Margeta staring back at me.
If I’d opened my eyes a second earlier it would have been a disaster.
In truth I had woken some time ago. The sound of the door was ambiguous, but once Margeta drew near the sheer presence of another person pulled me fully awake. I had meant to sit up and greet her despite my heavy body; instinct stopped me cold.
She had not merely approached—she had come close enough for her breath to brush my face. Eyes closed, I could not know the exact situation, yet one fact was crystal clear: if I opened them now an awkwardness so severe that I would not see Margeta for some time would unfold.
The moment I felt her retreat I opened my eyes and sat up. Thankfully the catastrophic awkwardness my instincts had warned of had been successfully avoided.
“Ah, Young Master Karl. You’re awake?”
Margeta offered the greeting as if nothing were amiss, yet her face was already so red it was hard to tell where hair ended and skin began. I had been trying to pretend ignorance; if the person herself kept looking like that the whole effort was wasted.
“Forgive me, Mar. Greeting a guest with the sight of me asleep was hardly proper.”
“It’s all right. I was the one who dropped in unannounced.”
She hid her mouth behind her fan and smiled with her eyes. Just that single line told me she was desperately cooperating with my attempt to change the subject. Poor thing. Had I opened my eyes any sooner I am certain I would have watched Margeta flee in tears.
Even without seeing what she had been about to do, I could guess. Anyone who failed to notice would have to be a complete blockhead. I am not Erich.
“I’m grateful you say so.”
“Heh. Grateful for what?”
I returned a bitter smile to Margeta’s. Do I even have the right to call Erich a blockhead? In some ways I am a far worse scoundrel than he is.
“Ah—I’ve left my guest standing all this time. Please sit. Would you like some tea?”
Only then did I realize I had not even offered her a seat. Both of us had been so distracted we were still on our feet. At my belated invitation Margeta gave a small shake of her head.
“I’m fine. I’m more worried about you, Young Master Karl. You look terribly tired.”
“It isn’t that. My body simply feels a little heavy.”
“That is exactly what people call being tired.”
Margeta tilted her head, swept a glance around the club room, and spoke again.
“If you’re tired, go rest in the vice-president’s office. There’s a place to lie down there.”
I already knew; I had been in and out of that office while preparing for the expo. The sofa was more than long enough for one person.
“I’m all right. I couldn’t possibly impose on you, Mar.”
“Is that so? I don’t consider it an imposition, so you’re free to come.”
The bright smile said she would accept no refusal. I could have driven her off at once by asking, “So, Mar, what exactly were you doing while I slept?”—but that felt unnecessarily cruel.
It is inconvenient, though.
In the club room the best I can manage is collapsing over a desk. I try to sleep off fatigue and only accumulate more of it. A baking clubroom with a proper sleeping nook would be stranger still.
Yet lying around the dorm all day makes me feel like a salary thief, and the distance I would have to cover if something blew up at the Academy is even more troublesome.
“Then… may I impose?”
“Of course.”
I felt rather like a freeloading kept man, but so it was decided.
If my body had suffered in the club room, my conscience suffered in the vice-president’s office.
“Oh my, Young Master Karl. You may sleep longer if you wish.”
“I’m fine. This is enough.”
She had told me to lie on the sofa, so I did—yet Margeta simply took her own seat and began working. An adult sprawled out snoring while a young lady three years his junior handled paperwork right beside him? Even a man whose inner triangle has worn down to a nub would feel the pain of that catastrophe.
I bolted upright in horror; Margeta merely stared in silence and applied pressure until I lay back down. So I really did sleep. The fatigue vanished, but my heart ached. I wonder what face the Iron Blood Duke would make if he heard of this.
“Whenever you’re tired, come find me. I’m perfectly all right with it.”
Unfortunately, I am not all right at all.