Expulsion

Shown to her seat by Blow, Lisleia settled between Yulia and Mnevoir, propped her chin on one hand, and began to read down the menu. Blow stood beside her with his back iron-straight, wound tight as a wire, waiting for her mouth to open.

Lisleia looked like someone nothing could bind—free to a fault. Blow privately thought Duchamp or Rachel would have been far easier to handle. She wasn't quite on the level of Björn, who had drawn a sword at their first meeting, or Randolph, whose mind no one could read. Even so.

...But why do people like this keep swarming Hills?

He was still quietly nursing the injustice of it when Lisleia wrinkled her nose and whipped her head toward Yulia, who sat even more rigid than he did.

"Hard to know what I'd have to eat for word to get around that I ate well. Isn't that right, niece?"

"If I may venture an opinion as a partner in Hills, I would recommend the corn cheese."

"I don't like corn."

"Then perhaps the Westriver pork roast? It does come with meat."

"I hate pork. And why is the name like that? Isn't that Hervena's family name?"

"The young master will explain that in a moment. In that case, might I suggest the Oolled? It uses a rare curry powder."

"I don't eat things I don't know."

By now anyone else would have frozen solid, but Yulia's face didn't so much as flicker. The hand she had lowered beneath the table, however, was clenched white. Blow, unable to watch any longer, cleared his throat and stepped in.

"Lady Lisleia."

"Mm."

"Allow me to prepare Hills's signature dish."

"Suit yourself. I only need my stomach filled, so don't knock yourself out."

With that she floated the menu across to him by magic. The motion was so natural that, for an instant, it felt as if she had simply handed it over by hand. Blow offered her a bow, then leaned in and spoke to the badly nervous Melo in little more than a whisper.

"Melo, I think we'll need the seasoning a little strong."

"What? But Lady Lisleia is an archmage. If I salt it heavily, won't she think it's too salty? She must have eaten so much fine cooking..."

"No. Make it the way you would for Liz or Tommy. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'll take the responsibility."

"Yes. I understand."

Melo nodded as if that trust were enough, then held out a roasted potato for him to see. She had made the dish more times than she could count, and it showed: the potato looked soft as a cloud and rich with savor, and Blow swallowed before he knew he was doing it. He shook his head clear, set the potato neatly on a plate, dusted it with parsley, and placed it before Lisleia and Mnevoir.

"What, potatoes?"

"Roasted potatoes you could eat every day and never tire of. They're the restaurant's signature."

"Hmm."

"An intermediate spell, practiced a thousand times. That sort of thing."

"Dangerous mouth you've got. So it only has to taste about that good?"

Blow put on the same bright, easy smile Yulia wore, and against that backdrop Lisleia popped the potato into her mouth. At first her jaw worked slowly. Then it quickened, her eyes went round, and she looked up at him.

"The seasoning—what is this? It's perfect!"

"I put a little care into it."

"How did you know? That I like things with a kick?"

"Who can say."

...You could tell from the way she talked. There was something strangely childish in it. In the words of that other world, a grade-schooler's palate. Say that out loud, though, and he might not live to regret it, so Blow only smiled back.

Mnevoir, served the very same potato as her master, tilted her head, then shifted her gaze to Lisleia, who was munching away in earnest.

"Master, this is a bit salty for me."

"When you get old, your tongue goes dull. It has to be about this strong."

"I see."

"Hey! What do you mean, I see? If you're a disciple, act like one! You're supposed to say, Master, you are still young and beautiful! That's the line!"

"...Master, you are still— you aren't— I'm sorry."

"Ugh. I should've just brought Aurora."

"That's a little..."

Mnevoir's quietly glaring eyes might as well have been invisible. Lisleia kept chewing and swallowing, and in no time at all the plate was bare.

"That was good. I ate well."

"If you wish, I'll have another dish ready at once."

"What? I'm full. I'll say what I came to say and go. Before our little one over there stops eating through her nose."

Hervena, at the next table, had been so busy reading the room that she had barely touched her food. She startled, then carefully set her fork down.

"Jumpy, aren't you. Anyway—the Blow Deblique experiment starts ten days from now, yes?"

"Ah. Yes. Understood."

"It's been a while since I came out, and there's a fair bit that needs handling. Any questions for me?"

"None."

"Don't be so cold. Ask just one."

Chin still propped on her hand, Lisleia looked up at him. There was, in fact, exactly one thing he wanted to know, so Blow judged the moment a good one, cleared his throat, and spoke with care.

"Before, Instructor Mnevoir said it seemed Lady Lisleia had taken a liking to me. I wondered whether that was true, and if there was a reason, what it might be."

"Oh, that?"

"Yes."

"Your face?"

"...Pardon?"

The question slipped out of him before he could stop it. At the sudden remark, Skadi and Hervena both jerked their heads that way in surprise. Yulia, for some reason, kept nodding along as if she thoroughly agreed.

"I'm joking."

"I thought you might be."

"Well. The neighborhood ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠brats seem to like you."

"Brats... do you mean Malred?"

"Yeah."

Malred's voice, and Emma's, flickered through his mind. Blow's mouth fell open. Surely not. He put the question to her carefully all the same.

"Don't tell me you were the one asking the children about me, sometime last week..."

"Yeah."

"I had no idea."

"You're not supposed to. It's information gathering, after a fashion. Your reputation's pretty good, though."

"That's a relief."

"Children's eyes are accurate!"

"I really am curious. If my reputation had been bad, may I ask what would have happened?"

Lisleia smiled, thin and easy, and added it as if it were nothing at all.

"......"

"Still, the more I listened, the more I wanted to let you live. Blow Deblique?"

She dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

...So that's how it is.

A relief, whatever else it was. He smoothed a hand down his chest, and as Lisleia rose and drew on her coat, he offered one thing more.

"Lady Lisleia, since the back alleys came up. There's reason to believe the lich and Grown in the back alleys of this Dusk Block have been cooperating with them."

"Mmm. Is that so?"

She stroked her chin at his words, then snapped her head toward Hervena.

"Little one."

"Yes! Lady Lisleia!"

Hervena shot to her feet. Lisleia came over, set a hand on her shoulder, and smiled.

"You can handle it yourself, can't you?"

"Are you granting me leave from the security force?"

"Yeah. It's a bother, so while I'm staying in Caipol, I'll see to it you can come and go as you please."

"Thank you."

Hearing that brisk answer, Lisleia did up the buttons of her coat, jerked a thumb at Hervena, and looked at Blow.

"Your right hand will take care of it."

"Take care of it, meaning..."

"Well. It means the streets get a little cleaner."

There was a chill in the words. Blow swallowed hard and bowed to her once more.

"Thank you for looking out for this. I'll go on being someone worth leaving alive."

"Ha. That tongue of yours really is something else."

"Thank you."

"Anyway. Be good to our little one over there, too."

A strange smile spread at the corner of Lisleia's mouth. Hervena caught the meaning at once, and her face went red as a radish.

"I'll drop by now and then. I'd like that potato just as it is."

"Yes."

"I'll be counting on you."

With that, Lisleia and Mnevoir took their leave. Everyone left behind let out a breath of relief, no one waiting to see who would sigh first.

"Haa..."

The most thoroughly spent of them was Yulia, who had been stuck to Lisleia all day. Strength gone out of her entire body, she sagged back against her chair and looked toward Blow.

"Senior, are you all right? You look tired."

"There's such a thing as an image, young master."

"Yes."

"The Lady Lisleia in my imagination was tremendously charismatic, and silent. The gap between that and the real thing was enormous."

"I see. She may simply have changed lately."

"Easier than I thought, and more uncomfortable than I expected, maybe? So, listen—I kind of want to whine at you a little."

The complaint was just bare enough of charm that Skadi's and Hervena's faces went stiff. Blow, who had no way of knowing why, only smiled and made the offer.

"Lady Lisleia's gone, so let's have a drink. Just us."

The words were hardly out before Skadi and Hervena crossed to Yulia's table. From the cellar came the sound of someone climbing the stairs, and Jane's head peeked out.

"Jane, you were downstairs?"

"Yes. I was checking the inventory."

"Wise."

"...Wise how?"

"You slipped down there because running into Lady Lisleia looked tiring, didn't you."

At the accusation Jane scratched her head, sheepish.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I like that kind of wisdom."

Jane smiled at that, and before long she had taken a seat at their table, drinks and all. For a long while, though, nothing moved across it but an awkward quiet. No one spoke but Blow. What little conversation there was kept dying after a few words, because Hervena and Yulia would not stop watching each other.

He nearly let it pass. The current of it nagged at him anyway, so he filled their glasses and spoke first.

"Hervena."

"Yes, Young Master."

"It's awkward with Senior Yulia, isn't it? And Senior, you as well..."

"...No?"

"Haha, young master! A s-spar is only a spar, there's no way I'd— haha!"

Hervena kept dodging his eyes. Yulia couldn't even finish a sentence. Blow looked from one to the other, stroked his chin, and smiled as he went on.

"You're going to keep seeing each other coming and going. Better not to be awkward than to be awkward, don't you think?"

"......"

"......"

At that, the two of them stole a glance at each other. The awkwardness was so fierce that the flush climbed all the way up Hervena's neck, while Yulia hunted for something to say. Blow let out a deep sigh.

"It really is too hard, isn't it? Then, Hervena, you'd be better off just staying in the dormitory."

"What!?"

"The young lady drops by so often, coming and going. And you, my lady—I think it would be better if you set a date and a time before coming to Hills from now on. If you happen to run into Hervena, well..."

"No, young master! No...!!"

Both of them looked as if the world had come down. Blow turned his gaze on Skadi, who was dying of laughter.

"Right, Skadi? They're that awkward. Better if they don't run into each other, yeah?"

"Right, right! While Jane and I hold this place down, they can just take turns coming!! Umhaha!!"

"......"

Hervena shot Skadi a look full of grievance. Yulia, as if she had made up her mind, whipped her head toward Hervena.

"Haha! Hervena! I hear you ran a joint operation with Lady Lisleia this time? I heard about it at the meeting, and it was so, so impressive!"

"Not at all, Senior. If you had been the one to do it, you would have done far better than I did. And at our last spar, I learned. So. Very. Much."

"Me too, Hervena!! I won, but it was a spar I learned far more from!"

No one was dragging the words out of them, yet both talked fast, stealing glances at Blow all the while. Watching them, he let out a small laugh and nodded.

"I suppose we can pretend what I just said never happened."

"......"

Hervena's mouth pushed out, the look of someone who knew she'd been had. Yulia exhaled a long breath of pure relief. Meanwhile Blow turned to Skadi and lifted his glass.

"Thanks for lending us the mansion, Skadi."

"Come over whenever you like."

"I wish we had a mansion of our own."

"I figure that happens once potion output is about a hundred times what it is now. Manager Jane?"

"I'm taking back what I just said."

Laughter spread around the table. Blow raised his glass again.

"Then, for tonight at least, how about we talk about something other than work?"

"Yes, young master. That does seem better!"

"Umhaha! Then shall we hear about the time Hervena nearly blew up the laboratory in her second year?"

"And why are you bringing that up now?"

Hervena faltered, the memory catching her halfway. "Oh, right. It was a complete uproar back then. I never thought I'd be contacting the mansion about anything other than the Young Master's affairs..."

"Everyone, let's have a drink."

Glasses met at his word. Pleased, Blow caught the eyes of Melo and Hans, who were watching their table with warm faces, and gave them a small signal.

The following Monday, at Caipol Magic School.

Hervena had come to class for the first time in a long while, and already she was bored with it.

Even so, my magic improved so quickly while I was going around with Lady Lisleia. Maybe I should ask her to take me as a disciple.

"Don't forget there's practical work in the last two weeks. We may link the class with Instructor Aurora's elemental magic, but I'll post notice of that later."

"Instructor, I have a question! If that happens, is one of the classes that week cancelled?"

"Skadi Hetaya, obviously not. It'll feel like taking the classes back to back."

"Ah, no!!"

"Yes."

Mnevoir's answer cut the hope off clean, and groans broke out here and there. When she finished the lesson and stepped out of the lecture hall, the room turned noisy in an instant. Hervena stretched her arms high overhead, tucked her notes into her bag, and tossed a question at Skadi.

"Lunch at Hills, right?"

"No. I'm eating with Cindy and Indoor today. Want to come?"

"No. I have to pack."

"Hm? Pack? Oh, right—you said you were moving."

"Yeah."

"Nice. Let's head out, then. Why aren't these kids clearing out?"

"Right?"

The two of them made for the main gate, and there was Rosalyn, face sullen, waiting with her attendants. Hervena let out a thin sigh and shook her head at Skadi.

"Why is Rosalyn planted in front of the door like that? It's enough of a madhouse already."

"Hmm... looks like she's waiting for someone. Whoever it is, I feel sorry for them."

They were just passing Rosalyn when she stepped into Hervena's path. Hervena, not having expected it at all, flinched and bowed.

"Hervena."

"Yes, my lady. Did you have business with me?"

"Th-then of course I have business, standing here like this. Would I be doing this if I didn't?"

Skadi could only tilt her head at her. Rosalyn's face was strangely flushed, and her hands were trembling.

...Something's off with her.

Skadi's eyes narrowed. Hervena, who hadn't so much as frowned, bowed to Rosalyn again.

"Yes. Then what is it you needed?"

At the question Rosalyn bit down on her lower lip, rubbed her hands on her slacks for no reason at all, and mumbled in a voice that barely carried.

"Is Blow all right..."

"The Young Master?"

"Yes...!! I asked if he's all right......"

"Yes. I saw him yesterday, and he's fine. Thank you for worrying."

"I-I see. That's a relief. Have something good for lunch."

She left the awkward farewell behind, spun on her heel, and was gone. Hervena watched her for a long moment, then looked to Skadi—whose eyes had narrowed until they were on the point of vanishing—and swallowed.

"Rosalyn, that... don't tell me..."

"...No way."

"Right?"

"She supplies the liquor to Hills. Rosalyn does."

"Then let's think of it that way."

...Yulia and Jane are already enough of a trial, and now Rosalyn too? If there's any comfort in it, it's that her character is the problem. Small comfort that that is.

Skadi quietly moved today's lunch to Hills and started toward the student council building, where Indoor and Cindy would be. A tremendous crowd had packed itself in front of the hall, and both she and Hervena stopped short.

"...What's going ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on?"

"Skadi, is it normal that these days I feel sick the moment I see people gathered like that?"

"It's normal. Still, we might as well see what it is."

They went closer, and the sight left both of them staring, mouths open. People in white—the dress of the Imperial Magic Bureau—were in the middle of hauling every last one of Julbert Mertios's nameplate and belongings out of the student council building.