Their Weekend (3)
The Girl and the Dragon.
It was a play about the young lady of a declining baronial house who, by chance, healed an injured dragon, shared countless adventures with him, and eventually rose all the way to the rank of duke.
If one looked only at the beginning, middle, and end, it might have seemed like nothing more than an ordinary adventure tale…
"…"
In truth, it was pure melodrama of the most outrageous kind.
The injured dragon she happened to meet turned out to be a neighboring kingdom’s prince, cursed into dragon form. The heroine herself was revealed to be the kingdom’s hidden princess. On top of that she had been given a terminal diagnosis from an unknown illness—yet at every crisis, characters who had never even been foreshadowed would swoop in to save the day. In the end her illness was cured, she gained the rank of duke, and everyone lived happily ever after.
It was the sort of plot that left one dizzy, unsure where even to begin poking holes—yet Schwarz could not tear his eyes away from the catastrophe unfolding before him.
"Hic…"
The reason was simple: Milia was completely absorbed, tears welling in her eyes. He simply could not bring himself to leave her side.
Afraid of disturbing her concentration, Schwarz held his breath and endured the ordeal in silence.
At last the grand music of the climax swelled, the curtain fell, and applause filled the theater. Only then did Schwarz allow himself a short sigh of relief, thinking, It’s finally over.
"It really was a wonderful story… don’t you think?"
"If it pleased you, My Lady, then that is all that matters to me…"
Watching her dab at her tears with a handkerchief, Schwarz managed to steady his trembling voice just enough to answer.
Had it not been for Milia, he would have fled the place long ago.
"Especially the part near the end, when the dragon held off the enemy army all by himself—he was so cool!"
"Ahahaha…"
Faced with her sparkling, excited eyes, Schwarz could only offer an awkward laugh in reply.
In truth he had checked out somewhere around the middle and remembered almost nothing of the plot, but he was not foolish enough to admit it out loud.
"Anyway, I must have been concentrating so hard that I’m suddenly starving…"
"Mm… shall we get a light snack, then?"
They had moved dinner earlier to make the curtain time, so it was only natural she would be hungry now.
"I’ll leave the menu to you. Your choices are never wrong, after all."
"Hearing you say that puts a little pressure on me…"
It had been pure luck more than skill, so Schwarz answered with another sheepish smile.
They slipped out of their seats, wove through the crowded corridor, and stepped outside the theater.
The hour was late enough that the streets had grown quiet.
Most shops had already extinguished their lights; even those still lit were closing one by one.
"At this rate I worry whether any shops are still open."
"You’re right… we’d better hurry."
With that, the two of them quickened their pace.
How long they walked, he could not say.
"My Lady, what about that shop over there?"
"Hmm… what do they sell?"
Among the shuttered storefronts, one still glowed with light. A few people stood waiting in line, so it was clearly still serving customers.
"Let’s take a look."
"Okay."
Milia nodded at his suggestion, and together they approached.
"Are you still open?"
"I was just about to close, but I’ll take one last set of customers."
The middle-aged proprietor, wearing a good-natured smile, nodded at Schwarz’s careful question.
"What sort of shop is this?"
"Toast, of course."
"Toast?"
Schwarz tilted his head at the answer.
It made sense that he would be puzzled. The First Commercial District was lined with high-end shops that catered mainly to nobles. Selling something as common as toast in a place like this…
Flavor aside, he had to wonder whether any noble would actually buy such a thing.
"I know it doesn’t quite suit the neighborhood, but I’ve poured my heart into this recipe and I’m rather proud of it. Once you taste it, you’ll have no choice but to agree."
"I see… In that case, could we have two to go, please?"
"Coming right up—just a moment."
Encouraged by the proprietor’s confidence, Schwarz ordered. The man disappeared inside and began preparing the toast.
Butter melted on a hot griddle; bread sizzled as it browned. Beside it, ham and eggs crackled appetizingly.
"Mmm~ that smells wonderful. What is it?"
Drawn by the savory aroma, Milia sidled up beside him and peeked curiously over his shoulder.
"Toast. Though it seems a little different from the usual kind."
"Toast? I’ve never heard of toast with all those things in it."
Watching the ingredients cook, Milia’s eyes widened in surprise.
In this world, “toast” usually meant French toast—bread soaked in milk, coated in egg, and fried. That was fine in its own way, but compared to the toast Schwarz had in mind, the difference was night and day.
Before long the proprietor layered golden bread with egg, ham, pickles, shredded cabbage, ketchup, and a strangely familiar sauce, then tucked everything into paper bags and handed them over.
"Two servings of toast, ready for you."
"Thank you. Business prosper."
Schwarz accepted the bags with a polite bow. Beside him, Milia sniffed the air like a cat that had caught the scent of a treat.
"Now the only question is where we’re going to eat these."
"Mmm…"
Milia made a soft sound of consideration.
Even if the streets were empty, walking around eating in public was hardly something one wanted others to see. In noble society the smallest detail could become a blemish—especially here in the First Commercial District, where so many shops served the aristocracy.
"I’ve thought of the perfect place."
Just then Milia, who had been frowning in thought, let out a bright “Ah!” and turned to him with a faint smile.
"Where might that be, My Lady?"
"Not far from here. Follow me!"
Before Schwarz could even tilt his head in question, she seized his hand and tugged him along without giving him a chance to protest.
"Wha—!? My Lady, you’re going to pull me over! Slow down a little!!"
Dragged helplessly behind her, Schwarz cried out in alarm.
A short while later.
"Here we are! What do you think?"
At the top of a tall flight of steps at the end of a deserted alley, Milia turned to face him, voice full of confidence.
"This is…"
Schwarz could only tilt his head. No matter how he looked at it, it was just an ordinary staircase.
"Even if you ask me what I think, My Lady… it’s simply a set of stairs."
Being out of sight was certainly an advantage, but beyond that the place had little to recommend it—except that the steps made for a slightly more comfortable seat.
"Heh heh… How foolish. How very foolish, Schwarz!"
"…"
Hearing her deliver the line in the exaggerated style of some old historical drama, Schwarz could only stare in blank disbelief.
"Very well. Allow me to enlighten you as to the true magnificence of this place."
"If you’re going to sit, please use this so your clothes don’t get dirty."
As she chuckled, Schwarz pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to her.
"Ah. Thanks."
She accepted it with a word of gratitude, sat down, then beckoned him over.
"Come sit here too. You can use mine."
She spread her own handkerchief on the step. Schwarz carefully settled onto it.
"Now look straight ahead."
"Ahead?"
Puzzled, he turned his gaze forward—and in that instant…
"Well? Isn’t it beautiful?"
"Yes…"
Faced with the view, Schwarz could only nod, his voice trailing off.
Below the narrow alley stretched the streets of what was probably the craftsmen’s quarter, and above it all a great moon hung in the sky, flaunting its presence.
"Well? Isn’t it beautiful?"
"Yes… I’ve never seen anything like this before…"
His eyes widened as he answered.
It was a scene straight out of a fairy tale. He had known this world’s moon was larger than Earth’s, but seeing it like this left him with no word but “dreamlike.”
"Whenever things got hard, I used to look up at the moon and think of you. I’d tell myself you must be looking at the same moon."
"…"
Schwarz turned to her in silence.
No matter how hard she tried to seem perfect and strong, she was still just a sixteen-year-old girl. The way she let herself be so carefree when they were alone was, in a way, the rebound from all that effort.
"What are you staring at? The toast’s going to get cold. Hand it over already."
"Yes, My Lady."
Remembering how she had struggled alone all this time, with no one to lean on, Schwarz felt a quiet ache in his chest.
"Oh!? This is way better than I expected!"
"I’m glad. I was worried it might not suit your taste…"
From now on, I’ll always be right here beside you.
Watching her enjoy the food so openly, that was the thought that rose in his mind.
In that moment his heart began to beat a little faster, though he himself did not notice. He simply reached into the bag and took out his own toast.
And so their weekend drew quietly to a close.