The Grand Festival (3)
Every race has its own standard of beauty.
To an elf, dwarves were short, bearded little lumps of earth. To a dwarf, elves were fragile sticks that looked ready to snap at a touch—tall, spindly weaklings with nothing but height to recommend them.
To a beastkin, humans were a soft, fangless, muscle-less breed of weaklings. To a human, beastkin were furry savages with rocks for brains and manners to match.
And to a dragon, what were humans?
Irrelevant. There was no other answer.
"Haaaaah…"
"Um… My Lady?"
Schwarz watched Milia with a helpless expression as she sat on a nearby bench, sighing as if she meant to sink straight through the ground. The girl in his eyes looked as though the world itself had ended—utterly steeped in despair. She gave no reaction when he spoke, and her gaze had lost all focus. He could not begin to guess why.
"Hm? Isn't that Milia and Schwarz? What are you two doing here?"
"…?"
Just then, a familiar voice reached Schwarz's ears. He turned, and the figure that entered his sight was a young woman—long hair the color of red mixed with brown, matching eyes, a tall and slender frame, and an air of mature composure.
"Lady Arge?"
Arge fen Rumenia. Daughter of the Rumenia family, one of the kingdom's five great houses.
"It is an honor to see you, my lady."
Schwarz rose from his seat and offered her a light bow.
"It's been a while, Schwarz. And…"
Arge waved him off as if to say that was enough, then caught sight of the wilted Milia and let out a puzzled sound.
"What's wrong with Milia?"
"Well… I honestly don't know myself…"
"You don't know?"
At his awkward reply, Arge made a low sound of thought and narrowed her eyes. Her gaze flicked rapidly as she pieced the situation together in an instant; then she folded her arms and began to lecture him.
"Schwarz. Do you know this? A girl at that age has a heart like a reed—it sways at the slightest breeze."
"Pardon? Ah… yes."
"Even the tiniest, most trivial thing can wound her. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"I—I understand."
The sudden scolding left Schwarz flustered, but it was not as if he could argue. Arge's lecture continued for several minutes more.
"Step aside for a moment. I'll talk to her myself."
"Yes, my lady."
At her words, Schwarz rose and yielded his place. Arge settled beside Milia and carefully drew her into an embrace. Only then did the unresponsive girl lift her head and look at her.
"There, there~ What's got our Milia so sad? Want to tell this big sister just a little?"
"Uuu… Unnie…"
"That's right, that's right~ Good girl."
Milia, who had been watching Arge speak as if soothing a small child, buried herself in the older girl's arms with a face that looked ready to burst into tears at any second. Arge answered in a gentle voice and began to stroke her hair. Then she shot Schwarz a sharp look that clearly meant get lost.
"Nngh…"
Schwarz was far from willing, but he could not defy her. Reluctantly nodding, he retreated far enough to keep the two in sight and watched them begin to talk. Honestly, he wanted to know what they were saying—but he was not so foolish as to think either of them would let him off lightly if he tried.
"Haa…"
Perhaps from the mental strain, Schwarz let out a low sigh.
And then—
"Heh. Looks like you've got your hands full."
"…?"
A familiar voice, and a hand settled on his shoulder. Schwarz turned with a puzzled look and found a boy standing there—grey hair, deep green eyes, large round horn-rimmed glasses, and heavy dark circles under them. His thin voice sounded as if it might snap at any moment, carrying a faintly precarious air.
"Dane?"
"Enjoying the festival, are we?"
Facing Schwarz's expression of pure what are you doing here, the former General Affairs Department Chief offered a greeting.
Meanwhile…
"So that's what happened?"
"When I started thinking about it, I just got so sad without meaning to…"
"Hmm…"
Having heard the rough outline from Milia, Arge looked at the dejected girl. She had always thought of her as a little sister—yet here she was, already old enough for worries like these.
Time really does fly, Arge thought, and a faint smile touched her lips.
"Even so, that's just too much! How can three whole years go by without a single step forward?!"
"Yeah… that is pretty serious."
Still, the picture of Schwarz that Milia painted was beyond anything Arge could have imagined. If every word was true, the boy was a block of wood and nothing more. Even temple priests were said to cause the occasional scandal—yet these two, a young man and woman in the prime of their youth, had spent nearly fifteen years together and produced nothing more than a single half-hearted mishap?
Arge found it hard to believe.
"Don't you think it's too much, Unnie? I've been dropping hints this hard and he still hasn't shown me a scrap of interest!"
"Hmm…"
Even as she listened, Arge could not shake a nagging sense that something was off. Not that she thought Milia was lying. It was more as if something had been left out in the middle—a feeling she could not put into words, but her instincts insisted on it.
"Milia."
"Hm? What is it?"
At Arge's careful call, Milia stopped speaking and looked at her.
"You haven't left anything out when talking to this big sister, have you?"
The next moment, Arge fixed her with a serious face and spoke.
"Eh? W-what are you talking about! I told you everything, every last bit!"
Milia waved her hands in flustered denial. Of course it was a lie—but she could hardly tell Arge that Schwarz was a dragon. Amelia and Heinz both knew the truth, yet their reactions had been the strange ones. One of them only cared about fighting the strong; the other would change personalities entirely if given a research subject. Both were a little off-center from ordinary people. Arge was different. Compared to Amelia and Heinz, she was the very definition of common sense—so the consequences of her learning the truth would be nothing like theirs.
"Hmm…"
At Milia's reaction, Arge made a low sound and narrowed her eyes. She had asked on pure instinct with no real evidence; once Milia denied it, she could press no further. That left her with limited advice to give—but what of it? There was only one piece of counsel she could offer anyway.
"Then how about being a little bolder?"
"Bolder?"
Milia tilted her head.
"Skip all the middle steps and go straight to a confession."
"W-wh-wh-what are you saying?!"
Milia flushed scarlet and cried out at Arge's casual suggestion.
"You said it yourself—you can't tell if he's dense or just not interested. Then one simple 'I like you' settles the whole thing, doesn't it? Besides, you've been together for nearly fifteen years. At this point, skipping the middle steps is more than fair, right?"
"Th-that's not wrong, but…"
Milia trailed off, fidgeting with her fingers. Arge was right. She and Schwarz had lived side by side for fifteen years. Even counting the year or so they had been apart, it was a full fourteen. They already knew almost everything about each other—except for one particular field. A single confession would solve most of the worries she carried.
"Milia. Has this big sister ever given you advice that would hurt you?"
"Well, no, but… if he rejects me…"
Milia shook her head as Arge spoke in a coaxing tone. She could not deny that following Arge's advice would be the easiest and fastest path. But what if the confession was refused? What if, just as she feared, Schwarz felt no romantic interest in her at all? She could not even begin to imagine what would come after. The mere thought of it was enough to make her want to cry from fear.
"Milia. Are you the kind of person who gives up without even trying, just because you're scared?"
Arge asked, watching her.
"What? Of course not! Do I look like that kind of person?!"
"Then go for it. You never know how things will turn out, right?"
When Milia shook her head in answer, Arge winked at her as if to say you can do it.
"Uuu…"
Milia let out a low whimper at those words.
Even so—how am I supposed to do something that embarrassing!!
She covered her face with her hands and buried it against Arge's knees.
She's so cute I could die.
Watching her, Arge felt a sudden urge to scoop Milia up in a tight hug, but she forced the impulse down into a corner of her heart and spoke to the still-whimpering girl.
"Just try it my way. Consider it a gamble."
"B-but…"
"Tsk. Big sister's getting mad?"
Arge clicked her tongue and cut her off. A push on the back this strong ought to be enough.
"A-all right… I'll try it like you said…"
"That's my girl."
At last, with a short sigh of resignation, Milia spoke. Arge smiled and rose to her feet.
"You're leaving already?"
"I look free, but I'm actually pretty busy. See you at the ball—I'll be there too."
"The ball? Ah…"
At the same moment, Milia made a soft sound of realization. Arge gave her a light smile and walked off into the crowd with her attendant. Seeing them go, Schwarz approached Milia. And Milia, watching him come, nodded with a firm expression.