Emergency Meeting Convened — Attendees: Lisleia, Deschamp, Karen, and...
After letting the silence hang, Lisleia turned a displeased look on Getier.
"You didn't actually listen to me, did you? There were six to begin with. Why did you only drag in four?"
"By that, you mean..."
"There was a prohibition spell on the matter of who was behind them. There was an elf, remember? The one with an ear cut off."
"Yes."
"The moment I pressed any deeper, those eyes rolled white and the elf dropped dead."
As she spoke, Lisleia scattered tea leaves into her cup and laid a hand over it. Steam soon began to curl upward.
"Oh. Hey, Hervena. That Heating of yours is pretty useful."
"Yes."
"It'll come in very handy when you're drinking tea."
...What an impossibly scattered woman.
That was Blow's honest impression, having watched Lisleia all this while. He couldn't begin to guess where the conversation might leap next. She gave the constant impression of simply saying whatever happened to cross her mind.
Hervena, of course, seemed to have adapted. She answered promptly and precisely, each time the moment called for it.
...So long as that attention doesn't land on me alone.
Blow was turning over how he might erase his presence from the room when Lisleia took a sip of tea and picked up where she had left off.
"I asked some bald fellow, just to confirm, and he died too. I think it's a spell I don't know."
"Is there magic even you don't know, Lady Lisleia?"
"Foolish question. Of course there can be magic I don't know."
"My apologies."
"Anyway, it looks like fairly upper-tier work. You'll have to pry it open one seal at a time. That's your job."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Getier snapped to attention as he answered. Lisleia looked him over as if he were adorable, tapped the desk with her fingers, and stretched.
"We'll sort it out when the meeting starts later. Simple enough."
"Yes. My subordinates are in close communication with the Imperial Capital as we speak."
"Are they? Who's worth anything in the capital right now?"
"When you say worth anything..."
"I'm asking whether there's anyone whose name I'd recognize. Isabella, for instance."
"The former Saintess left the field a long time ago, so it would most likely be Lord Mondrian, the current Director of the Magic Bureau."
"And Deschamp? Karen?"
"I'll look into it."
Getier cast a communication spell even as he answered, and Lisleia shifted her gaze toward Blow and Hervena, who were holding their breath as if playing dead.
"Go on. You two."
"Would that be all right?"
"Yeah."
The moment the word left her, Blow rose, approached Lisleia, and offered a courteous bow.
"Thank you, Lady Lisleia."
"For what?"
"For coming all the way to Caipol on my account."
"A mage without curiosity is as good as dead. Your spirit stirred mine plenty."
"And for appearing at exactly the right moment, as well."
"Well. That's how you get things to quiet down, isn't it?"
"I'm truly grateful."
"But tell me something. Saintess, what are you doing here? Convenient, I'll grant you that."
Marta, who had been sitting demurely, answered with a gentle smile.
"I came because I heard Young Master Blow had fallen into danger."
"Is a Saintess allowed to move about so freely?"
"I was already on the road to the monastery. And Young Master Blow and House Edfork have been a great help to us."
"Edfork?"
"Yes. Lady Yulia and Marquis Deschamp asked us personally."
Lisleia's eyes slid to Yulia, seated between Blow and Marta, and went wide.
"Indigo-hair. Don't tell me you're Deschamp and Karen's daughter?"
"Yes. It is an honor to meet you, Lady Lisleia. I am Yulia Ed—"
"Whoa!"
Lisleia was clapping with delight before the introduction could even finish. She was on her feet at once, brushed past Blow where he stood in awkward limbo, and came up to Yulia to examine her from every angle with meticulous care.
"Well, well. What a relief!"
"Pardon?"
"Your face takes after Karen. Deschamp's so slick-looking, any child of his was bound to come out unbearable."
"Thank you."
Lisleia kept letting out little gasps, as if she still couldn't quite believe it. Yulia, burdened by the attention, quietly avoided her eyes.
"You're learning magic, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Fine progress, for your age."
"Thank you!"
"But there's one thing I'm curious about."
"Please, ask."
"If you and Hervena fought, who would win?"
...What kind of question is that? Beneath even an academy student. Then again, maybe that's the privilege of an archmage—being this utterly unrestrained.
Fair enough. Even being generous, she only looks like her mid-to-late twenties.
Blow glanced at Hervena, certain the remark had gotten under her skin. Sure enough, she didn't look pleased. Her eyes had turned elsewhere.
"I won the last one."
"Whoa, really?"
"Yes."
Yulia laid a quiet emphasis on won, and Hervena's face flushed scarlet. Lisleia shot her a glance, burst out laughing, and turned her gaze back to Yulia.
"So it's true, then?"
"Yes."
"And when was this last time?"
"Not even a fortnight ago."
"What? I'll have to hear every bit of that later! Mnevoir, am I right?"
"There is a report summarizing the spar. I will have it delivered."
"Mmm, no. This is the sort of thing you hear in person! We'll go to Hills this evening."
...Does Hills have a ley line running under it?
A chill ran down Blow's spine at the unexpected words. Hoping desperately that he had misheard, he ventured a careful confirmation.
"By Hills, do you mean my restaurant?"
"Where else?"
"I'll prepare everything I can."
"Good. I've passed by a few times. Looked decent."
...Since when?
After the spar between Yulia and Hervena, Blow had practically lived at Hills, and he was still tilting his head in confusion when Lisleia—already done looking at him—rummaged in a pocket, held ten gold coins out to Yulia, and smiled brightly.
"Here."
"...Pardon? What is this?"
"Pocket money. For my niece."
"Refusing would be poor manners. I'll accept it with thanks."
"I gave you pocket money, so stay a little while."
"Yes?"
"Don't want to? I've got an awful lot to talk to you about."
Lisleia's eyes were sparkling. Yulia swept a regretful look over Blow where he stood, composed her expression, and answered in a soft voice.
"...As you wish."
"Haha. So, the way your dad and mom met—"
And so Lisleia's story began. A good while later, Blow approached her quietly and bowed.
"Then I'll take my leave, and see to the preparations for dinner."
"Go on."
"Saintess, I'll go ahead. I'll be sure to call on you soon."
"Ah, yes. Young Master—Liz... is she doing well?"
"Yes. She's working at a clothing shop now."
"What a truly good thing. I understand. I had been very curious about that."
Marta let out a sigh of relief. Blow bowed to her once more and carefully took his leave, and Hervena, who had been watching for an opening, slipped out after him.
Lisleia, who hadn't missed a bit of it, chuckled and turned her head toward Yulia.
Out beyond city hall, Blow climbed into the Hetaya carriage, drew a deep breath, and let his head fall back against the seat.
...The worst of it is behind me. The experiment, though, is only just beginning.
One worry set down, he opened and closed his own hand for no particular reason.
"Young Master."
Hervena, seated beside him, looked up with tears welling in her eyes. She had suffered in more ways than one through all of this, and pity stirred in him. He carefully stroked her hair.
"Hervena. You worked hard."
At those warm words she threw her arms around him and buried her face against his chest.
"I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you right away..."
"I figured if it was you, there had to be a reason."
"I was afraid you might be put in danger."
"I heard about that. You were being watched, weren't you? You handled it wisely. I think that's why we got through."
"I really... I was so afraid something would go wrong..."
She began to sob. Grateful for the feeling behind it, Blow patted her back.
"Thank you for trying so hard."
"Hic... yes..."
The carriage wove busily through Caipol, and Hervena calmed—but she was still, ever so subtly, holding on to him.
...He's warm. I wish time would stop.
She was wearing a smile she couldn't hide when the hand stroking her—Blow's hand—came to a stop.
"But, Hervena."
"Young Master."
"That bracelet on your arm..."
Hervena jolted upright, lips trembling.
"Ah, the bracelet! Ah, that! That was...!"
"Did you make a spare, in case I lost mine?"
Her eyes darted, and then she nodded hard.
"Yes! That's right."
"Thorough as ever. Thanks to you, it came in very handy this time."
"I thought that if it was you, you would recognize me."
"You even threw in that awkward salute. How was I supposed to miss it?"
He said it while stroking her hair. Pleased that he had known her, she quietly rested her head against his shoulder.
"Jane was seriously angry with you. I'll talk to her."
"It was easy enough to misunderstand."
"It's a mercy Megan wasn't there, if nothing else."
"That really is a mercy. If it had been Megan, she might have actually grabbed me by the hair."
A peaceful silence followed. Hervena made no effort to fill it. She even closed her eyes, simply feeling Blow's warmth.
"Hervena."
"Yes, Young Master."
"Do you want to come to Hills, too?"
"What do you mean?"
"You went through all that at the dormitory this time. If something bad happens again, it'd be better to have you close. And there's a room sitting empty, as it happens."
Hervena's head snapped up. With a trembling hand she seized his arm.
"Would that really be all right?"
"Why wouldn't it? I never brought it up before because the dormitory you were in looked so nice."
"I want to go. I'll move—"
"Yeah? Then once this term wraps up."
"No. I could move as soon as tomorrow."
She said it with her face flushed red. Blow smiled at her and spoke as if sharing a secret.
"It's not that urgent. Let's leave ourselves a little room."
"Yes! Thank you so much!"
"If you're this grateful, I must have treated you pretty poorly."
"Yes, yes! Please keep being kind to me from now on."
"I'll try."
"And w-we have a meal planned. You and me."
"Ah, let's do that after Academia is over. Things will be hectic until then."
"Yes!"
Hervena's face brightened at his words, and at last the carriage wheels stopped.
When he stepped down, color rushed into Liliane's face where she had been keeping watch in front of Hills, and she flung open the doors of Hills and Red Forest.
"Young Master, you've arrived!"
The moment she finished, the staff and the beastfolk poured out, and with them three Barbarians. Blow took each of their hands in turn.
"Thank you, all of you. I'll hold a staff dinner soon—enough for everyone to eat their fill."
"You worked hard!"
"You're the one who worked hard, Young Master!"
While Blow was looking them all over, Linne approached, dark circles sunk all the way to her cheekbones, and asked in a trembling voice.
"D-does that mean we open normally starting tomorrow? S-Senior Jane is c-coming too, right?"
"Yeah. For today, go home. You look exhausted."
"Th-thank you. Haha..."
A step behind her, Haghia was breathing out pipe smoke with a faint smile. Blow turned his gaze on her and nodded.
"Haghia. I'll need to send a communication to Skadi's estate. Lady Lisleia is coming."
"Ah, of course. Then we'll have to put off the communication that already came in."
"There's one from somewhere else?"
"Yes. Around noon, a communication arrived from Lady Rachel."
"Ah, right. Understood for now. One moment."
At the name Lisleia, Liliane and Linne startled and fell to whispering between themselves. Blow snorted a quiet laugh at the sight, and at last peeled the Closed sign off Hills. Everyone who saw it burst into applause, as if racing to be first, hard enough to split their palms.
"If she's the Lisleia I know, there won't be a problem, daughter."
"I see."
"It won't come to the thing you're afraid of. Still, this incident will stir the Imperial Capital as well, so I ought to make ready for that."
That was the answer Yulia had heard from her father, Deschamp, on Sunday morning. And at the time, she had never imagined it—that she herself would end up sitting in on a meeting with the Imperial Capital.
She had planned, in the carriage bound for Hills, to ask Blow to stroke her hair. Instead she was now in her second hour of conversation with Lisleia. What surprised her, a little, was that it wasn't as uncomfortable as she had expected.
"Yulia, does Deschamp still bring Karen bouquets these days?"
"Pardon?"
"Every time Deschamp came home, he used to give Karen a bouquet."
"If you mean that, he still does. Whenever Father brings flowers home, she always arranges them in a vase and sets them in her office."
"Haha! You should have seen how Karen recoiled at first! But after about a year, she started waiting for them on the quiet. She'd get sulky if he didn't bring any."
"I see."
"Karen was always clumsy about that sort of thing. Deschamp fretted over it quite a bit."
"......"
"From the look of you, I'd say you put Deschamp through some heartache too."
At the sharp question, Yulia cleared her throat.
"...I can't say that I didn't."
"You really do take after Karen."
Lisleia burst out laughing and was lifting her tea when Getier approached.
"We're ready. Shall we begin at once?"
"Yeah."
"Yes. Please begin."
A moment later a great magic circle unfolded, linking three smaller circles together. Every trace of playfulness vanished from Lisleia, and she addressed the circle in a markedly serious voice.
"This is Lisleia. Who's there?"
"From the Imperial Capital: the Director of the Magic Bureau, the Director of Public Security, their officials, Marquis Deschamp, and Duke Karen."
At that single word, the air went still. Lisleia burst out laughing the moment she heard it, and greeted him in a rather glad voice.
"Didn't die this time either, huh? One Hundred and Eight Swords."
"Who said anyone was dying? The joke goes too far."
"One Hundred and Eight Swords Ambushed! That was the headline that landed over here."
"As I have said, time and again. Unless you and White Flame come at me together..."
"A few years out of sight and the nonsense has only gotten worse? I'm here, and so is the Saintess of this generation."
Lisleia drew a steadying breath, and opened her mouth.
"Then let's begin the meeting."