Moonlit Garden and Cognac Confessions
The academy entrance ceremony was held on quite a grand scale. They even borrowed the imperial banquet hall for it—what more is there to say? Fake smiles shook the chandeliers. Everyone's lips were curved in grins, but their eyes hid a dagger apiece. The moment anyone showed the slightest opening, everyone in the room looked ready to draw and plunge those blades in.
"..."
I hunkered down in a corner, chugging bottled water. No one talked to me, and I didn't talk to anyone. In my nineteen years of life, I'd never done a single extracurricular activity, so this was par for the course.
The food sucked too. The salad was drowned in dressing and cheese, and the only meats available were fatty cuts. There was a variety of booze—wine, champagne, cognac, you name it—but nothing I could drink. Stuff like this just packs on fat and slows your legs down.
"Who's that guy?"
"New face? Probably the youngest son of the Artel family."
"Oh, him? He looks surprisingly decent."
I was trying to stay invisible, but annoying whispers kept drifting over. People passing by stared at me like I was some zoo monkey, which grated. And what the hell rumors had spread in high society? Why did everyone who saw me mutter about how I looked surprisingly good?
"Should I say hi...?"
"Nah, don't embarrass yourself. I hear he's got some communication issues."
"Ah, so that's why he hasn't left the estate in over nineteen years."
"Dodged a bullet there."
The silver lining was those weird society rumors keeping nosy people away. Normally, I'd be in the estate gym doing weight training right now. What a waste of time.
I want to exercise.
To be precise, I wanted to run. I'd skipped my afternoon workout riding here in the carriage from the territory.
Maybe run home today.
About sixty kilometers from the banquet hall to the estate. It wouldn't even hit a tenth of my usual training volume, but what could I do?
I slipped out of the banquet hall to tell the coachman to head back to the estate first. Night air and moonlight poured over the lavish garden. No one around—just the sound of fountain water splashing into the pond.
Didn't feel half bad.
"Much better."
I breathed in the night air and strolled slowly toward the garden's center. A tune escaped my lips, my steps growing lighter.
Just a quick jog?
Perfect walking path, and no one to see. Not too fast, just jogging while scanning around...
"Hic... sniff...!"
That was the moment I lightly bounced on my toes.
"Huh."
Across the garden, someone knelt sobbing. At first, I thought it was a ghost.
...Not that I'm a coward or anything. Try hearing a woman's sobs at nine p.m. in a medieval night with zero lights. This world's nine o'clock is darker than you can imagine.
"Fuck, that trash bastard... After all I've done for him, this shit...!"
But up close, no ghost talked like that.
"Uwaaaah! Fuck, for real!"
Shit, startled me. The sobbing woman suddenly yelled at the silent fountain, looking utterly wronged.
"What the hell did I do so wrongwwwww...!"
Then she covered her face with delicate hands and burst into tears again. Quite the spectacle.
Don't get involved.
Approaching would just lead to trouble. I backed away quietly so she wouldn't notice me. Crunch.
"Ah."
A small twig on the path snapped under my shoe. My heart skipped a beat.
The sobbing woman slowly raised her head. Our eyes met.
"...Huh."
Silver hair gleamed softly in the moonlight, her elegant dress flawless without a single wrinkle. Blue eyes brimmed with tears, glowing red; cheeks flushed. Smudged makeup couldn't hide her beauty.
"..."
"..."
An infernal silence stretched between us. Her face, soaked in anger and loss, froze in embarrassment. Run? Was this the moment for my nineteen years of trained legs to shine?
Her embarrassed expression twisted further. Shame from being caught cursing the fountain like a sailor must've hit late.
"How much did you—"
"Pretend you heard nothing."
I cut her off before the question finished.
"..."
The silver-haired woman propped her chin, lost in thought. The tears around her eyes had already vanished.
"So... pretend you heard nothing...?"
"Yeah, that's the deal."
I ended the world's most awkward chat and bolted back to the banquet hall.
"Hey."
She added one more line as I turned.
"Thanks."
Her dress swayed in the night breeze. Long hair fluttered, veiling her cheek. The garden shone beautifully in the moonlight, heedless of her sorrow. Seeing her alone under the night sky felt oddly forlorn.
"..."
I returned to the banquet hall without a word. Grabbed a cognac glass and headed to the chair where she'd been sitting.
"Here."
She stared silently at the glass I offered. Moonlight reflected in the pond rippled from the fountain's spray. Her reddened eyes pondered briefly before she took it. I sat beside her and downed mine too.
I hated booze. Hated hassle more. But how to put it? Like spotting a stray cat drenched in a storm. I didn't want to get soaked myself, but leaving an umbrella by the pole was unbearable... that kind of feeling.
Shouldn't have sat down.
One sip, two—the booze loosened her tongue. Her ears flushed quick, and she started spilling stories I hadn't asked for and didn't care about.
"So! I even paid off that guy's family debts?"
"...Uh. Yeah."
Her epic hour-long love saga summed up in three lines: Family picked her fiancé. She gave her all anyway. He fell for another woman; engagement broken two hours ago.
"And that bastard! Right now, in the banquet hall with her... Fuck it, whatever."
"Why get so heated? Sounds like you didn't want the marriage anyway."
No love match—just elders' arrangement. The breakup seemed good for her. No real affection from the stories.
"It pisses me off! A girl like me, guys should be begging, right? Who does he think he is, dumping me...?"
She sighed heavily mid-rant, fuming.
"Kinda obnoxious."
I poured my cognac into her empty glass.
"I'm pretty, aren't I?!"
"Well... yeah, you're pretty hot."
Obnoxious, but gotta admit the truth. Her looks were overwhelmingly stunning even in this world full of beauties.
I'd frozen the instant our eyes met—says it all.
"Eek."
She hiccuped, covering her mouth and turning away briefly.
"...Right?"
But shyness faded fast; she grinned brazenly like before and chugged more cognac.
"Ah! Feels good. Thinking that trash is gone from my life? Kinda refreshing."
"You were bawling pretty hard for someone relieved."
"That was... just anger! Watch, I'll find a guy a hundred times better and rub it in his face."
"Good luck with that."
"Taller than that jerk! Lean with defined muscles, handsome face. Athletic, smart, funny, considerate, witty—perfect!"
"Faster to hunt a unicorn."
"I'm a unicorn girl! Gotta find a match."
Obnoxious again.
"Not totally wrong."
"Huh."
Why'd she get embarrassed by her own words?
"...Normally you'd call me obnoxious here."
"It's true."
"..."
No grounds to argue—what could I do?
"That's cheating."
She went quiet, then blurted that.
"Cheating how?"
"Playing dumb is cheating too!"
Then don't say you're a knockout unicorn. I wasn't mocking silence—I was teasing the bait she laid.
"Let's head in. Getting cold."
I stood, offering my hand. Her shoulders flushed from the chill night wind.
"...Sure."
She took it carefully and rose from the bench.
"Oh, forgot the most important part!"
"What."
"Noble title at least count-level! That jerk was from a decent house."
"Rarer than a unicorn now."
"So what? It's my dream guy anyway."
Fair point. Ideals don't exist in reality—that's why they're ideals.
The world brightened as we neared the hall. Warm lights made her silver hair glow. Her teary eyes now sparkled with smiles.
"We haven't introduced ourselves!"
"Ram Artel."
"...Artel?"
Her steps froze at my name. Yeah, yeah. The infamous Ram Artel in the flesh. The surprisingly decent-looking one.
"You look surprisingly hot?"
"You?"
"Duh, forgot. Elena Parau."
Elena? Wait—silver hair, stunning looks, Elena...?
"Why so shocked?"
Elena smirked playfully, patting my back.
"No way you didn't know who I am, right?"
...I'd gone and tangled with the protagonist out of nowhere.