Chapter 4
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 0.5
Chapter Title: This is a Crime (2)
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Arranged marriages were no different from love marriages for high-ranking nobles.
The reason was simple.
[I'm off to find my true love!]
[Hey! Leave the secret magic behind!]
In a world without mana, a person just vanishes into thin air.
But here, it was equivalent to leaking a family's aura cultivation methods or unique magic secrets.
To prevent such gruesome incidents, they chose a method that maximized the odds.
[How about we get engaged? We're both count families, and our interests align.]
[Tch. It's a shame about our daughter.]
[This guy?]
They simply made them close from childhood.
Even without love, familiarity breeds camaraderie or affection of some sort. Tie in shared interests, and while affairs might happen, no one bolts to become a runaway noble. From the family's perspective, arranged or love marriages were much the same.
Thus, as time passed, high noble parents grew increasingly anxious. What if their child never finds a match?
The worst outcome was becoming my eldest brother.
The absolute nadir was me, Lucia—still unengaged.
Every time engagement news poured in from all directions, Mother's gaze turned murderous whenever it landed on me.
I had no idea when my head might hit the floor like big brother's.
'Ugh...'
So I took a moment to sort my thoughts. I'd racked up 32 straight wins in these engagement duels (one-sided beatdowns), and now Mother's sighs had deepened.
No fool keeps staring at a tree that won't grow taller.
From that angle...
'Is there anyone...?'
Anyone better than the man before me now?
"So that guy grabbed her leg and wouldn't let go."
"Mikhail oppa did that?"
"Yes. He was a mess of tears and snot—"
The story continued slowly. A clean, deep voice that was easy to listen to.
His clothes weren't flashy either, which was nice. Whether it was because he was a priest, I wasn't sure, but muted tones suited him better than bright colors.
Height and looks... Hm. Uh. Hmm.
Above all, his demeanor was the best. If I had to pick one, it was his gaze.
Every man I'd met so far had been too busy ogling someone else's body.
And not just one or two fixated on the burdensome fat sacks pinned to the chest like beasts.
'Why do they even like these?'
It was utterly annoying.
Of course, you had to bind them tight so they wouldn't sway while wielding a sword, and unwanted stares poured in every time you walked anywhere.
「Can't someone just take these off my hands?」
「? Are you mocking me right now?」
「Why?」
「...」
「They're surprisingly heavy.」
「If I were you! I'd just— all those damn men—.」
When I vented to my one equal at the academy, her response was brutally sharp.
Just plop them on a table, and the guys you want would roll right in. Why ruin such a treasure?
'...Should I test it?'
Daniel, the only friend of the brother who introduced himself as a priest. (I still can't believe he has friends even now.)
He'd never once let his eyes stray from my face. If it was consideration, I was grateful—after dealing with so many wolfish creeps.
"Ah, one moment. This position is uncomfortable."
So I pulled my chair closer to the table. Drag, positioning it just right, then resting both arms on top.
Slowly lowering my posture over them. In my friend's words, presenting the 'obscenely tempting fruit' with a bounce.
"Sorry. They're a bit heavy."
I flashed an awkward smile on purpose. This alone should be enough to rattle any man, or so I'd heard. There had to be a reaction.
"Yes. Then I'll continue the story. At that point—"
"...?"
Nothing. Not even a twitch. And I'd even braved the embarrassment to emphasize their weight.
"...Am I boring you? Have I been talking only about myself—"
"No. It's interesting."
Hmm. Less good manners, more like he was viewing me from another angle.
Should I amp it up, or restrain myself since it wasn't ladylike?
As the dilemma bloomed inside me...
Crash!
Glass shattered.
◆
The incident started with a thud!
Not a typical burst. More like a siege ram slamming a wall.
The restaurant building, wrapped around the garden, shook violently.
Then, with a crash, shards from the broken window rained onto our table.
"Are you alright?"
In the chaos, the Astria name proved true.
Just before the glass fell, Lady Lucia yanked me away, pulling us both from our seats.
How she managed such acrobatics in a dress, I'll never know.
"I'm fine. At this rate, I might just fall for you, Lady."
If the genders were swapped, it'd be pure romance-fantasy cliché. Hero drops a cheesy line, and boom—story wrapped.
"Now you're even joking?"
"I have a good eye for people. I pay close attention to those I need to get close to."
"Hm. That was refreshingly new. Never heard anything like it."
She beamed up at the spot where the glass had shattered.
"Separate from that, I'd still like to hear the rest of your story..."
"You bastard! Daring to eye my woman?"
"What? Your woman? Don't make me laugh! Elena loves me!"
"Looks like that's not happening."
The tale was cresting toward that guy's black history peak.
Then the noise from the second-floor terrace made the cold-water splash obvious.
Two men grabbing each other's collars over one woman—a textbook cheap love triangle.
The tired cliché from every romance fantasy novel.
"Duel! We'll settle it here!"
"Fine! I'll show you who suits Elena better!"
"Both of you, please stop!"
Both men drew swords. Guests screamed and fled. The restaurant turned into pandemonium.
Hm. Strangely grating scene. Like twirling your hair in front of a bald man?
Crack. I loosened my knuckles lightly. Even from the second floor, it was within easy reach.
I lightly traced the holy sign. Left to right. Top to bottom.
Red holy power infused my right hand. Tendrils writhed, taking form—a whip of nine crimson lashes brighter than blood.
"Argh! Who dares interrupt a sacred duel! Aaaagh!"
"Which bastard— Aaaaagh! Coward hit... the groin..."
Nothing beat hands-on for this. One strike each, both out cold. No more racket. Especially the groin guy—I'll leave it there.
"Wow... You can use holy arts like that?"
"Just a simple trick. Pre-store it normally and release on demand."
"Hm. Mages do it often, but I've never seen a priest use it that way. Kinda amazing."
She eyed the red whip curiously.
But the two who'd trashed the place were long down, so no lending it out. Any more hits, and heirs might be off the table.
"Sorry for interrupting your time."
With the romance cliché ended, the manager rushed over.
Unlike his initial welcome, sweat poured down his brow. He looked stressed.
"This was our Blooming Garden's fault, so we'd like to offer some compensation."
"It's fine. Just two idiots—"
"We luckily acquired some 50-year-aged Darian whiskey recently."
...50-year whiskey?
That changed things. Even in a magic world, luxuries were limited.
Chocolate and liquor were eternal indulgences.
"It pairs perfectly with the dessert from our standard course."
I didn't expect such fierce temptation that I'd glance at Lady Lucia.
She smiled reassuringly.
"It's fine. I drink a bit at home sometimes."
"If it's not rude, what's your tolerance like?"
"Hm... About eight glasses this size..."
...Eight beers?
The empire's sword and shield lived up to it. Didn't expect such prowess with booze too.
'Should be fine.'
Four liters of beer tolerance? One or two whiskeys would be nothing.
◆
Lied.
I'd never touched alcohol once. And I'd quoted Father's limit.
'Should be fine.'
This was Astria territory anyway. No big issues.
「Why drink? Hm... It bolsters courage.」
Our eldest brother's words after getting brutally rejected by his first love post-drinking. Had to be true.
And right now, I needed reckless courage. Approaching a non-family guy for the first time.
"Our latest 50-year Darian whiskey. Any preferred serving?"
"Hm. Tough choice. On the rocks isn't bad, but for aroma..."
"Neat it is, then. And for the lady?"
"Same for me."
"Yes."
Neat? On the rocks? Unfamiliar terms flew by.
The glass arrived with a scant pour. Honey-like amber hue.
He lifted his lightly. Held it to the light, sniffed, then sipped.
One gulp, and his throat bobbed like that?
'Ah.'
I hastily averted my eyes. Meant to watch his technique, but why there?
To hide my possibly flushed face, I raised my glass. Whiskey through eyes, nose, mouth.
"...Wow."
Utterly unlike any drink before.
Golden like melted amber.
Aroma seeping into every alveolus.
Fiery trail down esophagus, soaking the stomach.
"Incredibly smooth. Pre-aired, perhaps?"
"You know your liquor, sir. Yes—lets guests savor Darian's oak notes properly."
"Heh. Highball would've been tears."
They dove into liquor talk beside me. Mostly gibberish, so I just nodded.
Sip. Another. Another.
Heat blanketed my face. Now I could ask properly.
"True, distinct seasons boost evaporation noticeably..."
"Sharp temps shorten aging, but quality varies—"
"Daniel oppa."
Crack. Conversation halted. The bar wobbled like a ship dropping anchor.
His eyes flickered—the strongest reaction yet.
"Just teasing. Felt like I'd hear nothing but strangers' talk all day otherwise."
"My apologies, Lady."
"Then one question."
"...?"
Memory vault with friend's advice. Pulled the fittest fact.
A line I'd never utter sober.
"Do you think I'm pretty?"
Heh heh. Said it!