110. Cosmic Horror (2)
Friday evening, the day before Blow was to meet Yulia.
The conference room in the student council building of Caypol Municipal Magic School. Yulia sat in the regular meeting with the department heads and deputy heads of the student council, and every face in the room was drawn tight with tension. Student Council President Randolph, who had not shown so much as the tip of his nose in that chamber for months, was holding his seat with his secretary beside him.
"Why is the president..."
"Shut your mouth. You want it torn open?"
At Cindy's snap, Indoor clamped his lips shut.
He's come to meetings twice all year. What is this about?
She was not the only one thinking it. The other deputies and department heads seemed to share the same unease; their eyes kept drifting back to him.
One person, however, showed no ripple at all. Rebecca was in the middle of her report, steady as ever.
She really is something.
Cindy's gaze skimmed the Academia report laid out in front of her.
"—The champion matches will proceed as I reported last time, beginning the Monday after next."
"And where did we say the champion matches and the cooperative preliminaries would be held?"
"The Björn Arena that was wrecked last time will be fully repaired as of next Wednesday, so we've decided to hold them there."
"See that nothing goes wrong this time."
Randolph's loaded words dropped the chamber into silence. Julbert closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them, laboring to keep his expression at ease.
"Well, setting that aside—who from here is entering the champion matches? I'd like to see their faces."
At that, Yulia, Cindy, and Danvers rose from their seats, and Rebecca, already on her feet, lifted a hand. The prince's gaze went first to Yulia, the highest in standing among them.
"Yulia. You're entering again this time?"
"Yes. I am."
"Shouldn't you be leaving a chance or two for your juniors?"
Whether he disliked the solo reign she had kept up for years, or whether the words were a kind of praise, no one could tell. Yulia hesitated over how to answer, then took the most roundabout path she could find.
"The Capall Academia isn't only our school. Every school in the city takes part, so I thought the finest student in the academy ought to go—and that we needed competition to decide who that was."
"True enough. If someone like that emerges, you'll be able to focus all the more on your duties as student council president next year."
He spoke as if the matter were already settled, and every eye turned to Julbert. Feeling the weight of those gazes, he lifted his teacup and took a silent sip.
"Whatever position I hold, I will do my utmost, President."
"A fine sight, in any case. And you, Cindy—you're entering as well?"
"Yes!"
Cindy answered in a bright voice and clenched her fist, and the president smiled faintly at the sight of her.
"Will you be all right? This time Hervena will be out there, as well as Yulia. I say it only because I think well of you."
"There are things you only see when you clash head-on! I'll learn everything I can this time!"
"Hah. Our Head of Finance is always so full of fight. I like that. But... Julbert Mertios. You're not entering?"
"No. I've decided to sit this one out."
"You've put your name forward for the presidential election, and yet you're sitting out. I find that rather curious."
The blunt remark froze, in an instant, the air Cindy had managed to thaw. Julbert rose at once, bent at the waist, and answered.
"As Head of Student Welfare, I will see the event properly prepared from behind the scenes, in every respect."
"I'd rather you took after our Head of Finance. Or is it that you fear Yulia will catch you? By a very wide margin."
"Just as there must be shadow where there is light, I thought someone had to keep things in order from behind."
"Well. It's your choice."
After a few quiet words with his secretary, Randolph shifted his gaze to Rebecca.
"Is there anything further to discuss?"
"No. I've covered everything."
"I see. Then... you've all worked hard again this week. Keep to the plan."
"Yes."
"The mood in here is stiffer than I expected. Is it because I so rarely attend?"
"Not at all. We have simply been conducting the meetings with due gravity."
A faint smile caught at Randolph's mouth.
"Hm... Very well. Will you speak with me a moment?"
"Yes, President."
"Today's meeting ends here."
With that, the officers filed out one after another. In the brief pause that opened, Yulia set her thoughts in order at speed.
To everyone, the man called Randolph was an unknown whose interior could not be read. He seemed to hold the presidency only because the blood of the Imperial Royal Family ran in him, and through all his school life he had never plainly set any affair in motion.
...I can't tell. Is this about the election? Or will he say nothing much at all?
She sat with her hands folded modestly when a low, insinuating voice reached her.
"Head of Public Relations."
"Yes."
"You've been busy with something amusing lately, haven't you?"
"Might I ask what you mean?"
"I hear you're selling sugar."
Caught off guard, Yulia started and looked at him.
"Yes. That's correct."
"And not Parso's sugar, either—the Ain's. You knew what would be said behind your back, and you did it anyway?"
"...Yes."
"Quite the departure. Was this your idea, Yulia?"
Cold sweat slid down her spine.
She had confirmed that the Imperial Palace thought poorly of Parso over the high price of sugar, but she had never been able to grasp what each person privately believed. Randolph, seated before her, had until this moment sat closest to unknowable—or simply uninterested. He was the Second Prince, and perhaps because of that place in the order of succession, he had never once put in his mouth a word that could be read as politics.
Is it because he's of the Imperial Royal Family after all? But why now?
If he had spoken of it, then he was only confirming with her something he had already verified. Better, Yulia judged, to tell the truth than to dress a lie.
"It was Blow Deblique's idea."
"That scoundrel Blow. Since when have the two of you grown so close?"
"Not long."
"Most unexpected. Of all people, I wouldn't have thought you would grow friendly with him."
"I didn't expect it either."
"That's the way of people. Well then... tell Blow I said I would like to see him once."
Having given up on reading his intent, Yulia answered as one who had no choice.
"Yes, I understand. When would be convenient to set the day?"
"After the Academia preliminaries. You'll be busy before then, won't you? The three of us can dine together."
"Thank you for the consideration, President."
"I'm only intrigued, nothing more. Don't be so tense."
"Yes."
"I'll go first. I'll look forward to the Academia preliminaries."
"I'll do my best."
Leaving those words behind him, Randolph made for the door. When his footsteps had faded, Yulia dropped heavily into her chair.
A little later, Deputy Head of Public Relations Maxim and her confidant Marchen came looking for her, both wound tight with nerves. Only then did Yulia manage to lift the teacup she had not been able to touch.
"...His Highness the Prince."
The title alone was enough to set Blow's head aching. Turned another way, though, it also felt somewhat late in coming.
There was the man he had become, changed by a full half-turn from what he had been; the uproar with Greig; and on top of that, the White Sphere. He had been throwing variables into the world without pause. Of course someone's interest would stir. Even so, the weight of it was real.
Yulia addressed that weight in a calm voice.
"For now, he told me it was only that his interest had been caught."
"If I meet him, I have no sense of what I ought to say, or how."
"Nor do I. This private meeting was the first in a very long time."
"I heard he hardly attends the meetings at all."
"It would be no exaggeration to say Student Affairs has been dividing the president's work among themselves."
Blow's sigh lengthened at the way everything kept tangling itself with the Imperial Palace.
"Couldn't we simply think it through when we're actually in front of him?"
"I'll gather what information I can in the meantime. About what he's thinking."
As she spoke, the tension in her had eased visibly from before. Blow gave a small shrug.
"What could really come of it?"
"Even so. It's a burden. That's the truth of it."
Seeing her still held stiff, he called toward the kitchen.
"Melo!"
"Yes! Young master!"
Melo came out wiping her hands on her apron, and the moment she saw Yulia she bowed from the waist.
"My lady! Hello!"
"Oh my, Melo... yes. Is the work in the hotel kitchen manageable?"
"Yes! The seniors are kind, too...! It's so much fun!"
"It can't be easy."
"It isn't easy, but everyone looks after me...! And it is fun!"
Melo's words snagged, as if something kept catching on her tongue. Her eyes, though, were bright, and there seemed to be no great trouble in them. Blow smiled as he looked at her.
"Having fun?"
"Yes! There are so many ingredients I've never seen before! There's lobster, too! I haven't gotten to touch one, but..."
She trailed off, regretful, and Yulia spoke as if sorry for it.
"That would be because it's a fine ingredient. Melo is still an apprentice."
"Yes. Still, I've watched them prep it a few times, so I think I could do it!"
Blow regarded the confident girl, stroking his chin.
"Is that so? I'm in the mood. I'll get you a few lobsters—try prepping them."
"Ah—!"
"Right. We'll eat them the night before the Black Bridge Gathering."
"Really?!"
Melo's face lit all at once. Blow nodded and stroked her hair, and Yulia, who had been watching him in silence, asked in a quiet, suggestive tone.
"Oh my. Young master, might I join you?"
"Of course."
"Thank you, young master. If it could be managed, what about two nights before?"
"True. The night before, I'll be run off my feet myself. Hans, have it ready to match."
"Yes. Understood."
All at once Yulia realized the tension that had settled into her shoulders was entirely gone.
...So that's why he called for Melo.
A smile she found warm, even in herself, spread at her lips.
"I've been hearing it from Marchen. Melo is adapting better than we expected. Of course, it's only been a day."
"The beginning is what matters most."
"They say her vegetable work is so quick she's a real help in the kitchen."
"She's probably peeled a few thousand potatoes by now. I suppose I ought to call it only natural..."
"And the tomatoes aren't a problem. The desserts will be prepared as you said, young master. Is the sparkling water coming along?"
"A prototype is out. We're adjusting the concentration."
As if relieved, Yulia passed a hand over her chest and leaned back in her chair.
"I think I heard earlier. Are you entering the Academia again this time, my lady?"
"Yes. I have to. This Capall Academia will be my last."
"Three wins in a row... that would be a record without precedent."
Blow said it lightly, but contrary to the ease of his words, Yulia's face stiffened a little.
"I don't know. This time there's Hervena, and Rebecca as well. It won't be easy."
"Even so, you can't simply set experience aside, can you?"
Hearing it did nothing to clear her mood. When the White Sphere had appeared, what woke Blow in the end had been Hervena's magic. If Hervena was a flower come into full bloom, then she herself seemed to have nothing left ahead of her but the fall of the petals.
"I think the championship will be beyond me, no matter how I look at it."
"Because of Hervena?"
"The truth is, even the wins until now were luck. It wasn't only Lady Rachel. I never measured up to the others from the Imperial Capital, either."
Blow had never gone to the Academia held in the Imperial Capital, but he knew the story well enough. This year she had lost to Rachel, and last year to Yelich of the Imperial Capital Magic School.
"When I practiced with Hervena last time, it became even clearer. So this is what real talent is, I thought..."
"Don't you have a talent of your own that's far from ordinary, Senior?"
"No. The truth is, I struck a wall a long time ago."
Blow could not readily answer that. With some effort, Yulia lifted the corners of her mouth.
"That limit of mine... turned out to be something like a hurdle another person can clear."
He was thinking he ought to pour her a drink when she, after a hesitation, opened her mouth in a trembling voice.