The Brake

"You dance rather well, Blow Deblique."

"I learned in my first year."

"Hmph. From the look of you earlier, I thought you couldn't dance at all. How disappointingly dull."

Rachel and Blow Deblique cut through the hall. Watching the two of them sweep so lightly across the floor, Skadi realized all over again just how much Blow had been looking after her when it was her turn in his arms.

Rachel's eyes met Yulia's for an instant, and she wore a look of open triumph. Yulia let out a hollow, incredulous laugh, her brow crumpling like crushed paper.

Blow saw it and sighed.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Revenge for Yelich."

"Lady Yelich struck me as the sort who isn't satisfied unless she takes her own revenge."

"Oh? You caught even that?"

"She seemed that way."

A smile touched Rachel's lips as she answered him.

"Yulia's just fun to tease, that's all."

"I hope the two of you can come to an amicable understanding."

"Anyway, get Straight Rachel developed quickly. I'll cover the research costs."

"I'll have the development finished ahead of time. Once Straight has found its place, I'll promote this as the new product."

"Now that is a good answer."

Pleased, Rachel gave him a small smile.

"After you dance with Yulia, come by my table for a moment."

"With Lady Yulia, you mean?"

"Yes. I have a gift for you."

Blow turned over what she could possibly mean by that. While he was still puzzling it out, Yulia came toward him.

"My lord!"

A moment ago he had been ready to ask whether they might sit out a single song. But the earnestness on Yulia's face left him no choice but to take her hand.

And then the murmurs, one after another, began to reach his ear.

"Well, now. Young Lord Blow's partners are nothing to sneeze at."

"Count Rosalyn, and he'll have danced with all three of the great houses."

"Rosalyn? Not a chance. She stormed out of her seat earlier."

"If anything, we ought to be grateful the young lady of House Mertios isn't here."

The talk was beginning to weigh on him. Yulia, who had drawn in close, only sparkled up at him and smiled.

"Young Lord Blow!"

"Yes, my lady."

"Dance two songs with me? I'd like to hope for at least that much."

Blow looked at himself reflected in her clear eyes, then nodded.

"All right."

"I knew you'd say that, my lord."

Only then did Yulia Edfolk's face soften, as if her mood had finally lifted.

A little later the music rose through the hall again, and Blow leaned in to whisper.

"Senior, in a little while Lady Rachel—"

"My lord."

"Yes, my lady."

"Save the business for later. I'll do whatever you want."

"…Shall we?"

"Please."

Yulia let the hand on his shoulder slip down to his back. Her face was brighter than he had ever seen it.

Blow's table, without Blow.

Rebecca had accepted an invitation and was out on the floor. Skadi, her face still flushed, was telling Jane this and that about the dance she had shared with Blow. Hervena sat with her nails biting into her palms as if they might break the skin, staring out at the ballroom.

Yulia looked up at Blow and smiled, soft and shy, and Blow Deblique smiled back as if in answer.

I don't want to see it.

Hervena knocked back the Ropert Rose she had poured earlier. Her eyes stung, and she dropped her head.

Renelit, who had been glancing over from another table now and then, came across and took the seat beside her.

"Hervena Westriver!"

"Ah. My lady."

"You look awful! Not having fun?"

"No. Well… actually, yes. I'm not a very good dancer."

"Really? That's a surprise. I thought you were good at everything."

"I've ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠never learned. I never had any reason to enter society."

"And you're this pretty—Young Lord Blow is too much! Still, if you said you wanted to learn, plenty of people would teach you. Theo's right over there."

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it."

"Well, at your level!! Learning might just get tiresome."

Renelit laughed and refilled Hervena's glass. Hervena accepted it with a polite nod, then spoke first.

"About Teacher Aurora…"

"Ah, she's my eldest sister! Have you tried her cookies?"

"Yes. She gave me some when I stopped by the laboratory last time."

"My. My sister doesn't just let anyone into a place like that. She must have taken quite a liking to you!"

Renelit smiled and held out her glass, and Hervena touched hers to it.

"You seem close. With Teacher Aurora."

"Of course we are! I think she's incredible."

"Oh. Really?"

"My sister went through a lot when she was my age."

"Pardon? House Hersi is a noble house, isn't it?"

"Back then we hadn't been noble for very long. It was a bit like that."

"Ah…"

"That's why she teaches in Caipol! She left a research post at the imperial palace sitting there."

"In Serdia, I suppose…"

"Too many people she doesn't want to run into. That's also why she still isn't married!"

Renelit smiled faintly, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠then added,

"My sister had it hard. I've had it easy! On breaks she teaches me all sorts of things, one-on-one."

"And you, my lady—will you be going to the Imperial Magic Bureau?"

"I suppose so? The family keeps saying the second and third sisters ought to be set up with a potion shop or something."

Renelit Hersi spoke of her family's affairs without a shred of reserve. Hervena, who had felt for a while that the two of them understood each other surprisingly well, leaned toward her and chose her words with care.

"If it isn't rude to ask…"

"Nothing rude about it. Say whatever you like!"

"May I ask how House Hersi became a noble house?"

"During the war, my grandfather distinguished himself on a level with the 6 Great Mages. Lady Yelich's house was the same."

"A feat on the level of the 6 Great Mages…"

Hervena turned the words over under her breath, and Renelit chuckled.

"Why? Do you want to become a noble?"

"No."

"You look like you do. Why not?"

"…"

In truth, Hervena could not shake the thought even now.

Caypol Municipal Magic School was a peculiar place, and the master she had found was a man who paid unusually little mind to such things—and still the distance between her and Blow had proved far wider than she expected. Even now her young lord was trading smiles with that Yulia Edfolk as they danced, and more than a few young ladies were already sweeping covert looks over Blow, who had somehow become the center of the hall.

Every time she caught those looks, spite bloomed in her chest. Even if she could not have him to herself, being the only one left with nothing was unbearably unfair.

Renelit, who had been watching her in silence, smiled.

"Even so, you've got a fair chance."

"No. Someone like me, what could I…"

She said it, but a flame had begun to rise in her eyes. Renelit saw it, smirked, and held out her glass again.

"Later, come around with me and say hello here and there. Everyone's quite interested in you."

"Thank you for looking out for me, my lady."

"I like girls who use magic well! Like you!"

"So do I."

"Want to go right now?"

"If you're offering me the chance."

"Good! Where shall we start?"

Hervena rose and followed her. She glanced at Skadi, who was still pouring the story of earlier into Jane's ear. Then she whipped her head around and went after Renelit.

Only after two songs, and one more besides, was Yulia satisfied. A spent Blow steered them toward Rachel's table before their own.

Rachel sat with her legs crossed, one arm along the back of the sofa and her head propped on her hand. She regarded them in a listless drawl.

"You're late."

"Young Lord Blow dances so, so well, you know?"

"That, I know very well."

"Anyway—what did you call us over for this time?"

"Hmm… This is rather high-grade information. I'm a little torn."

The hesitation showed plainly on her face. Yulia took the seat beside her.

"We're in the same boat now, more or less. If it's important, shouldn't you share it?"

"A reasonable point, Yulia."

Even so she seemed to waver. After a brief pause, Rachel spoke.

"…"

At words neither of them had expected, Blow's face and Yulia's went rigid.

The evening before the Black Bridge Gathering, at a rundown inn in Saintume—a midpoint of sorts between Caipol and the beastkin villages.

Cunsai's childhood friend, Liliane Aparot, was unpacking in a room with her father, Ichi Aparot; Cunsai's father, Tekun Cherohun; and several others who had come along to help with the transport.

"Do you think I can get in this time, too? Caipol Magic School."

At the worry thick in her voice, Tekun paused, then came over and gently stroked her hair.

"It will go well."

"I did say I'd work hard on my own, but…"

"If you cannot swim against the current, you swim with it. And if it does not work out, you look for a road that fits the way it doesn't. So don't worry too much."

Liliane brightened into a smile at the warmth of it. Tekun kept stroking her hair and waited for Ichi, who had gone to send word in place of the village representatives' council.

Once I go up this time, I must be sure to offer my thanks to Young Lord Blow Deblique and Lady Yulia Edfolk.

He brushed a hand over the letter in his breast, the one into which the elder had pressed his gratitude, character by character. Thanks to Blow and Yulia, the demand for sugar had surged, the factory was lively, and smiles were blooming on the villagers' faces. A light of hope glittered on every face that had managed one proper step forward. If Liliane could enter the academy as well, there would be nothing better. By next year they would be short of hands, and they could begin calling home the kin who were struggling in foreign lands.

He was smiling without realizing it when the door burst open. Ichi came back with a set face, his lips trembling.

"Ichi. What is it?"

"Tekun. Let's talk outside."

At that unsettled look, Tekun left a puzzled Liliane behind and followed him out. The moment they were clear of the room, he saw Ichi shaking, short of breath, and understood that the man had hidden it from his daughter.

"Ichi, what in the world happened? Has something gone wrong with the sugar in transit?"

"What? Why would those people suddenly—!"

"I don't know the details either. I only just heard it over the communication."

A shadow that had not been there before settled over Tekun's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠face.

Those Parso people were always like this. The moment something began to go well, they never failed to throw a wrench into it. But this time was different from every time before. Now they had solid backing in House Edfolk and House Deblique. This affair might, in its way, be the last ridge they had to cross. As always, they need only do what they could—unshaken, and with composure.

Having settled his mind, Tekun steadied his breath and passed over the elder's letter from inside his coat.

"This is…"

"A letter from the elder. Our gratitude to Young Lord Blow Deblique and Lady Yulia Edfolk is in it."

"I know. If you're giving this to me, that means…"

"Ichi… take Liliane and go up as planned."

"T-Tekun, you haven't seen Cunsai even once since he went up to Caipol!"

Tekun shook his head and set a hand on his shoulder.

"No. Cunsai will understand. How can I, the representative, go up now? I'm counting on you. The shipment, and Liliane…"

"Hah… things were finally going well, and now this…"

"Whatever you do, do not tell Liliane. She needs to focus on the examination."

"Then how are you going to explain going back down now…"

"We say there's been trouble at the sugar factory. Won't that do?"

Ichi could only nod, his face grim.

They returned to the room. Liliane came bounding out of the bedroom on light feet, her voice bright.

"Uncle, look! They say the fried shrimp here is really famous!"

Hearing nothing but brightness in her, Tekun held out a few silver coins.

"Buy one each for you and your father with this, tomorrow."

"Wow! Thank you! But what about you, Uncle? Why are you packing?"

"They say there's trouble at the sugar factory, so I have to go back down."

"Really? What about Cunsai…"

"A shame. But it looks as though we'll see each other this winter, so it's all right. Will you give him my regards in my place?"

"Yes. I will."

Liliane watched him pack, regret plain on her face. A little later, with his bags all tied, Tekun stepped out of the inn.

"Uncle! Once I get to Caipol, I'll be sure to send word!"

"Yes. Thank you."

He stroked her hair once more, nodded to Ichi, and walked toward the carriage. Ichi, watching him go, lifted the corners of his mouth for the daughter who could not look away.

"We have to be up early tomorrow, so wash your face and get to bed, Liliane."

"Okay! I'll be quick and go to my room!"

She climbed back up to the second floor. Only then could Ichi let out a long, deep sigh.

Very late at night, Ichi started awake from a nightmare of his own village burning.

A dream, and still a sight he never wanted to see again. Only after he gulped the water at his bedside did he realize it had been a dream. He sighed in relief and stepped outside.

Without warning, a thin sound of crying reached him.

"Hic…"

Ichi froze, then went into the room. What met his eyes was his daughter, clutching a pillow soaked through as if she might wring it apart.

The strength went out of him all at once. He stopped where he stood and dragged a rough palm down his face.

"Liliane."

"Dad… hic…"

A short sigh broke from him at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that tear-soaked voice. He went to her carefully and patted her back.

"You heard."

"I'm sorry."

"…"

"I'm sorry for letting it show. I'll stop. I'll stop soon."

He sighed and gathered his daughter gently into his arms.

"It's all right. It will be all right, Liliane…"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

For a long while after that, the crying that filled the room slowly ebbed, until only an owl's call came now and then—and so their night, nothing but darkness, deepened.