Where the Storm Has Passed
After Elis had gone.
"I thought I was going to lose ten years off my life. What on earth was Her Highness doing all the way out here?"
"Sorry. I can't really tell you that much."
Milia shook her head toward Arge, who was carefully opening the door and stepping into the room.
"Well… I suppose that makes sense."
And it did. The other party was none other than the princess—second in line to the throne, a figure of enormous consequence. Anyone could see that if someone of that stature had come in person, the matter was anything but trivial.
"I'll be heading out, then."
"Oh my. Leaving already? I was thinking we might have a cup of tea while you're here."
"I'd like that, but I'm just too worn out…"
Milia answered Arge's regretful tone in a voice drained of strength. With the tension finally released, exhaustion was plain in every line of her body.
"Yeah, I can imagine. Can't be helped. We'll have that tea next time."
"See you later, then."
Arge nodded in understanding. Milia waved him off, then turned and started down the corridor.
"Are you all right, My Lady?"
They had been walking for some time when Schwarz, following a few paces behind, spoke carefully to her back.
"About what?"
"About making that decision without so much as a word to the Count."
I, Milia Valentine, cannot hand Schwarz over to Your Highness… but if ever you have need of me, I will come running, no matter when or where.
One day she would become the head of House Valentine. Those words had also meant that, in the succession struggle to come, the Valentine countship would stand with Elis. It was hardly a light matter for Milia to decide alone, setting aside the current head of the house, Bernus.
"Of course I'm not all right."
"…"
The way she answered—as if he had asked something obvious—left Schwarz looking thoroughly at a loss. Then how exactly did she plan to handle the aftermath?
"But even Father wouldn't have had any other choice. This is the only way our house survives."
"Mm…"
As if she had read the worry running through his mind, Milia's next words drew a low sound from Schwarz's throat.
The First Prince and Bernus were mortal enemies in all but name. Given the prince's well-known temperament, it was painfully clear that once he took the throne he would never leave House Valentine in peace. In the end, the only path left to them was to stand with Elis and make her queen.
"Just in case, I'll send a letter to the Count."
"Please do."
Even if everything they had discussed was true, there was no telling how Bernus would react. Sending word ahead was the wise course, if only to forestall any unpleasant surprises.
A short while later…
"Ugh… I'm so tired…"
Before she knew it they had reached the General Affairs office. Milia pushed open the door. Dane and Neris had already left for the day; the room was quiet.
"Would you care for a cup of black tea, My Lady?"
"Yeah. Please."
She let out a short sigh and headed for her desk. When he asked, she nodded in a voice thick with fatigue. Schwarz gave a light bow and went to the stove to set water on to boil. Milia sank into her chair.
Only the crackle of burning firewood filled the silence. Before long the water came to a boil, and the fragrant scent of black tea drifted through the room.
"Here you are. It's hot, so please be careful."
"Thanks. Honestly, what would I do without you?"
A moment later Schwarz set the steaming cup on her desk. Milia offered him a faint smile. She took a soft sip, then set the cup down again with a sigh that sounded a good deal more at ease.
"By the way… I owe you an apology."
"Pardon? What for, all of a sudden…?"
Schwarz looked at her in genuine bewilderment. Had she done something wrong? He searched his memory, but nothing came to mind that would warrant an apology from her.
"About what I said to Her Highness."
"Ah… that."
No matter how many times you ask, my answer remains the same. I am My Lady's servant alone.
To me, My Lady is the reason I live. Without her, I would have no reason to go on.
"To be honest, I was torn back then. Between you and the family—which one I should choose."
"If I had been in your place, My Lady, I would have struggled with the same choice."
Family or servant. How many people in the world could face that decision without hesitation? For Schwarz the question barely applied—Milia was the only family he had. But for her it was different. On her shoulders rested not only her family, but the entire Valentine countship, and beyond that the weight of the Valentine domain itself. The reason she had not answered Elis at once was precisely because she understood that burden so well.
"You always know just what to say."
"I always mean every word."
"…"
The soft smile that accompanied his reply made her heart hammer against her ribs. At the same time a strange, frustrated heat rose in her chest. He seemed completely unfazed—so why was she the only one whose face kept turning red?
It's not fair.
The first thing Milia did after that thought was stand up from her seat.
"My Lady?"
"Come over here a second."
The sudden shift in her manner made Schwarz tilt his head, sensing something off. He called her name, but she ignored him and simply beckoned.
"Yes? Understood."
An inexplicable sense of foreboding brushed the back of his neck, yet he could hardly refuse. His shoes clicked softly as he approached. He forced the uneasy feeling down and came to stand beside her—
"Sit here."
"…Pardon?"
Arms folded, Milia spoke. Schwarz's voice came out half-dazed.
Sit? Here?
The baffling order set his thoughts racing faster than ever. Was this some kind of test? A loyalty check? Or just an ordinary prank? Cold sweat prickled as he looked at her, but Milia only watched him with an unreadable little smile.
"Well? I told you to sit."
"No… I mean, that is…"
He felt the sweat and let the sentence trail off. His instincts were screaming that he must not sit.
"Haa… If you're going to be like this, I don't have a choice."
"What…? Whoa—?!"
The short sigh left him puzzled for only a heartbeat before Milia's hands shoved him roughly into the chair. A startled cry escaped him.
"M-My Lady?"
"Stay still. Don't move."
She looked down at him—sitting there, voice unsteady—and began to walk toward him with deliberate steps. Danger. His instincts blared the warning without pause, yet he could not move. Like prey before a predator, all he could do was watch her with eyes that trembled with unease.
"I wasn't planning to go this far…"
She came right up to his face and smiled sweetly. To Schwarz that smile was more terrifying than any he had ever seen from her.
And then, the next moment—
"…"
Before he could stop her, Milia settled onto his lap. Schwarz could only stare, expression blank with shock.
"Stop fidgeting. It's uncomfortable."
"I-I'm sorry…"
She shifted this way and that until she found a position she liked, then leaned back and rested her weight against his chest.
What in the world is going on?
Why was Milia using his knees as a chair? Schwarz simply could not make sense of the scene before him.
"Um… My Lady?"
"What?"
"What exactly is this…?"
"Just because. I wanted to try it once."
She answered his careful question with a soft snort of laughter. Watching him flounder so thoroughly made the frustrated heat from a moment ago melt away like snow.
"…"
For Schwarz, of course, it was pure torment. Not that he was uncomfortable—his physical strength far surpassed any ordinary person's, so the weight of her on his lap felt no heavier than a cat or a small dog. Even so, he could not gather his wits. In both of the lives he had lived, he had never once had any experience with women.
What am I supposed to do in a situation like this?
In the year he had spent training as a servant in the count's household he had learned a great many things: the proper mindset of a servant, the ordinary duties of the role, even self-defense and hand-to-hand combat for emergencies. But never once had anyone taught him the correct response to something like this.
"Uwaaah…"
His head spun. He let out a low groan.
And then—
"Kuuul…"
"…?"
The soft sound from his lap made him freeze. He looked down at the small girl sitting there. She must have been truly exhausted. Her head had drooped; she was already asleep, looking more peaceful than he had ever seen her.
"Honestly… there's just no helping you."
He watched her for a moment, then gave a quiet laugh and leaned back in the chair, bracing himself firmly so she would not slip.
He still did not understand what she had intended by all of this. But in that moment he wished for one thing with all his heart.
"Sleep well, My Lady."
At least while she was like this, he hoped she could rest without a care. If that was what she needed, he would gladly be her chair for as long as she wanted.
With that thought he whispered the words to her in a low voice.
And so a somewhat eventful lunch hour quietly slipped by.