Redprine Blueos
…Get a book into his hands even once, and he turns into a tiresome creature. Blow Deblique.
Rachel turned the thought over while she studied him in silence. Jane and Hervena, now set face to face with the pair from House Campbell, stole a glance at Blow, trying to read his mood.
That was when he drew the gaze he had fixed on Greig over to the two of them, smiled, and spoke.
“If Greig apologizes, you’ll accept it, right?”
“Well, I don’t particularly care.”
Hervena said it in a tone of pure indifference; by now, it truly didn’t matter to her. Jane, unlike her, thought for a moment, then answered in a voice that was low and perfectly clear.
“If he apologizes, I will accept it.”
At those words a fire seemed to roar up in Greig’s gut.
…A noble like me, apologizing to those commoners?
The thought set his hands trembling, little by little. When it became plain he had no intention of apologizing easily, Blow turned to Rachel and spoke as if he were simply airing a complaint.
“It seems our Greig doesn’t feel like apologizing, Lady Rachel.”
“…Greig?”
Rachel, who had been watching without a word until then, stepped in toward her brother, whose whole body was shaking.
“Greig Campbell.”
Her voice was packed tight with anger. Only when her black blade flashed into his sight did Greig understand, all at once, that law and courtesy and rank were a very long way off beside that enormous sword.
The moment he understood it, his head dropped toward Jane.
“I-I’m sorry! Hervena, Jane!”
“……”
“You especially, Jane. I misspoke. I’m sorry for saying something unbecoming of a noble.”
Jane let out a faint sigh, and then she accepted it.
“Very well. Thank you for the apology.”
Once she had said so, Hervena gave a shrug, and Greig’s apology ended there. Seeing it done, Blow moved with a noticeably lighter step. He turned to Rachel beside him and spoke with impeccable courtesy.
“Shall we go in?”
“Let’s.”
Rachel and her retainers went inside, and Greig tried to slip after them. Rachel stopped dead and snapped at him as if she couldn’t believe her ears.
“Greig. You stir up a mess like this, and now you mean to sit at the same table?”
“N-no, I need to eat too…”
“Wait outside. If I have to look at your face, I don’t think the food will go down.”
With that she swept into the inn. Blow fought to keep from laughing. He patted the shoulder of the Greig left standing there in a daze, and spoke as if it were a terrible shame.
“Since you won’t be eating today, next time you come I’ll pile on twice the potatoes.”
“……”
The smugness in Blow’s voice was unbearable. Greig Campbell’s face went scarlet, and he couldn’t find a word to answer. So he was left to take the October chill alone, standing out there with no one beside him.
After Rachel came in, a stretch of greetings passed between them, and at last everyone found a seat. For some reason her eyes had settled on Riné, sitting at the very end.
Riné, of course, found that unbearable, and she avoided the other girl’s gaze. Rachel, with no idea what was going on inside her, pointed at the place beside herself and called out.
“Riné Planche. If you don’t mind, come eat next to me.”
“Whaaat!? M-me?”
“Is there another Riné here besides you?”
Riné looked at Skadi and Hervena, seated beside her, with an expression that begged to be saved. Skadi made a point of checking the time for no reason at all, and Hervena occupied herself with the flower set on the table.
“What? Do you dislike me?”
“N-no! I-I’ll come, right now!”
Riné hurried to her side, and with that everyone was seated. Riné took the place beside Rachel at the end, and next to her sat Skadi and Hervena. Opposite Rachel were Yulia and Blow, with Jane to their right, while the rest of the servants had taken another table.
Rachel gazed at Riné—tense, busy reading the room—with a look that said she might die of how adorable the girl was. Yulia tilted her head as if she couldn’t make sense of it.
“You cherish Riné a great deal.”
“Riné? She’s cute, isn’t she?”
“I’ll grant you that.”
“And she’s cool, too.”
Yulia turned the remark over for a moment and still couldn’t find the answer. Interest stirred, and she asked again.
“I find myself curious which part you mean. To hear that Riné has caught our Lady Rachel’s fancy.”
“That she’s weak, and yet strong.”
“Hm? I didn’t know you were the sort to enjoy koans.”
“My marks in literature run about as high as my marks for putting my body to use.”
“Your literature marks are high? That may be the least believable thing I’ve heard all year.”
Blow watched their exchange the way one watches a match of table tennis, quietly grateful that the attention had not swung his way. Rachel shifted her gaze straight to Yulia, and the corner of her mouth lifted.
“Wasn’t it impressive, the way she stepped up onto the dueling ground?”
“Ah… that time.”
“That violet-haired girl, Rebecca, and you, Yulia—you were only doing what you were bound to do, weren’t you? Because you were strong, or because the responsibility was yours.”
“That’s fair.”
“But our cute Riné had no responsibility, and hardly any strength, and still she stepped onto the dueling ground.”
“Yesterday you said it was amusing because Riné brought up her wages, didn’t you?”
“Offer someone a million gold and half of them still wouldn’t come up. Isn’t that right, Riné?”
“Huh? Huh? Ah… yes!”
Riné, who was quite sure she had only gone up because she had been swept along when Jane climbed up beside her, took a pointless sip of the water in front of her. Rachel’s gaze moved this time to the opposite side, to Jane, sitting with her back perfectly straight.
“The white-haired one is the same.”
Their eyes met, and Rachel put a question to her.
“What’s your name?”
“Jane Foresti.”
“I’ll remember it.”
“An honor, my lady.”
Jane offered her a bow. Rachel laid an arm across Riné’s shoulder and went on.
“That’s why, of everyone who was there, I consider Jane and Riné the most remarkable. You could call today’s banquet a banquet for the two of them.”
“I’m discovering quite a few unexpected sides of Lady Rachel today.”
“Am I? I simply like people who have courage. Oh—in that sense, perhaps you have a fair bit of courage yourself, Yulia?”
Rachel looked at her with a meaningful lift at the corner of her mouth.
…So standing in my way counts as courage, does it?
A flush of heat rose in Yulia. She closed her hand tight around the cup in front of her and answered.
“Haha. You really are an amusing person.”
“I’m a person with no fun in me.”
…Last night she said she was someone with a sense of humor?
While Blow was still turning that over, Yulia spoke in a flat voice.
“Hmph. At a pleasant dinner, let’s leave it there.”
“If that is your wish. Still—Rebecca didn’t come?”
“She said she had a great deal to do.”
“That girl… how should I put it? Should I say she has no nerve? And Julbert?”
“…Do you really think he would come here now?”
“Fair enough. Even so, I thought if it was Julbert Mertios, he might show up shamelessly anyway.”
Rachel said it as if it were nothing. Blow, just then, was breathing a sigh of relief. By her account, the two of them might actually have come. He tried, once, to picture both of them in this already awkward gathering, and the mere thought seemed to turn his hands and feet cold.
“Isn’t there also the daughter of House Ropert?”
“Do you mean Rosalyn? She’s still young, so…”
“With that child, her age isn’t really the problem. Still, we could have had something truly remarkable to drink. Isn’t that so, Skadi?”
“Hm? Yes.”
And so the mood settled into one where Yulia and Rachel led, and everyone else only reacted. Blow caught the smell drifting from the kitchen, rose as if it were nothing, and headed that way.
Melo, seeing him come in, brightened at once.
“Young maaaster!”
“Melo! How’s it coming?”
“The Red and Yellow and the corn cheese are all done! Should I send the last dish out with them?”
“No. It’s hectic in there, so let’s send the Red and Yellow and the corn cheese out first.”
“Yeess!”
Blow gave separate instructions to Hans and Rowbedi, who were in the kitchen with her, and the two of them began plating Melo’s cooking in crisp, orderly fashion. Out in the dining room, Rachel’s eyes flew open at the smell.
“That smell is absolutely incredible.”
Yulia, who had already tasted it, told her with a deliberately easy air.
“That’s Cheese Corn Cheese.”
“Why does cheese show up in the name twice?”
“They say it’s because the cheese matters that much.”
“Blow Deblique named it, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Right. I had a feeling.”
“Does it work like that? The cheese really is delicious.”
“The two of you get along surprisingly well.”
With those words, Cheese Corn Cheese and Red and Yellow were set down before them. The moment Rachel saw the look of the dishes, she nodded in open admiration.
“Oh. That is certainly a smell and a look worth our Lady Yulia going around singing about!”
“Wh-when did I ever?”
Yulia’s face went bright red. Blow glanced at her. Mischief took Rachel; she lifted the corner of her mouth, propped her chin on her hand, and added, as if it were nothing.
“You talked about it the entire way to see His Highness yesterday.”
“I don’t know what you mean. I may have mentioned it, but—”
“Hmm? I’m quite sure it was the only thing you talked about the whole way there.”
“It was absolutely not the entire way, Lady Rachel!”
Yulia had shouted it out of sheer embarrassment, and when her eyes met Blow’s she flushed for no good reason at all. Blow, for his part, was thinking that this was becoming a real problem. At this rate, Yulia Edfolk might start showing up at his shop every single day.
“Then I suppose that’s how it was.”
“It’s not ‘I suppose’! That’s how it was!”
While the two of them bickered, Skadi Hetaya nudged Hervena beside her and whispered in her ear.
“Hervena, let’s ask for drinks.”
“You ask. Why are you putting that on me?”
“I’m awkward with Lady Rachel. I’m awkward with Senior Yulia, too. And I’m a noble, aren’t I? I’m in a position where I have to keep my dignity, so I can’t help it.”
The moment the word dignity left her mouth, Hervena looked at her with narrowed eyes, as if she had lost the will to believe anything.
“So I have no dignity to keep, is that it?”
“Then you say it, and I’ll back you up. And…”
Skadi’s mouth crept into a smile as she said it, and Hervena’s brow drew tight.
“I still have a wound sitting in a corner of my heart from what you said and did behind this inn last time.”
“You’re so full of shit.”
It was a line that would never land, and Hervena stared at her as if she couldn’t believe it. The two of them were quietly trading words when someone no one at the table had expected raised a hand and spoke.
“A-a beer, please!”
Everyone turned in surprise. There was Riné Planche, Rachel’s arm still resting on her shoulder, her hand held stubbornly in the air.
I can’t! I can’t stay here sober!
That was the meaning hidden under it, and everyone present seemed to catch it. Skadi and Hervena shut their mouths and glanced once toward Greig, standing outside like a snowman.
“Hahaha!”
Rachel laughed, broad and hearty.
“See? Isn’t the courage admirable? Wouldn’t you say, Skadi Hetaya?”
“Yes? Ah—yes, my lady. My junior’s courage seems remarkable.”
“You’ve been speaking up to me for a while now, Skadi Hetaya. You used to speak casually.”
“At the time, I had no choice…”
“I don’t particularly mind. I’m not even your direct senior.”
“Thank you for the consideration.”
Skadi offered her a bow, and Rachel called out so that everyone could hear.
“Drink whatever you like. You servants, too.”
“Yes!”
“Every expense that comes out today—I’ll settle all of it myself!”
Applause broke out. Blow clapped louder than anyone. Just then Skadi murmured to Hervena, right at the edge of hearing.
“A little heat is fine. I hope Blow packed the curry powder and pepper in there by the fistful.”
Hervena nodded without a word. And so their easy, pleasant banquet began.
Outside the school, near the main gate, stood Angus Coffeehouse.
It sold coffee as its main draw and served tea as well, but the drinks were priced so high that most of its patrons were middle-class commoners and nobles. Even so, the customers never stopped coming, and that was because of the café’s particular virtue: it kept secrets.
The coffeehouse was divided into a number of well-soundproofed rooms—galleries—and the servers, all of them the owner’s immediate family, were famous for how heavy their mouths were. It was a place for the secret meetings of lovers who had to mind other people’s eyes, and for the hushed dealings of people who had to be careful even of what they let pass their lips.
In one of those rooms, the Blue Rose Gallery, Julbert sat with a hard face, staring at a newspaper article that bore his name. His aide, James, kept his mouth firmly shut and waited for his master’s order.
His master had failed. After the duel, more than half the compensation had fallen on House Mertios, and because of that his footing within the family had narrowed considerably. The school was much the same. People who used to come running to greet him first now seemed to have grown heavy in the feet; more and more of them didn’t approach at all, offering only a passable show of courtesy as they went by. On top of that, word going around said that Hervena—the one on whom he had spent the most effort—had decided to remain with House Deblique.
He had gained not a single thing. Only the losses remained. They said a loser had no words, but the truth was that he had nothing to say even if he wanted to.
Julbert, who had been keeping his silence, drank the black tea set before him. James, reading that frozen expression, asked carefully.
“Young master, shall I go and fetch the sugar…”
“I’m all right.”
“…Understood. Incidentally, when might they arrive?”
“How much time is left?”
“About a minute.”
The knock came before James had even finished. The door opened, and in came Redprine Blueos, journalist for Magic Inside—hair unkempt and tangled, three buttons of her shirt undone so that her upper chest showed—smiling wide as she stepped inside.
She strode up and bent a deep bow at the waist.
“Young master! Hello there! Your face isn’t looking too good, though!!”
Redprine took the seat directly in front of Julbert at once and drained the coffee waiting there in a single pull.
“…Redprine.”
“Yes.”
“I read the article.”
He set a clipping on the table.
Redprine glanced down at it, then broke into a bright, beaming smile.
“Everyone liked it.”
“And if they like it, that’s the end of it?”
“Who knows? If they like it, isn’t that the end of it? Last time, the Blow Deblique piece you tipped me—everyone liked that one so much, too.”
Julbert said nothing.
Redprine Blueos was the second daughter of House Blueos, the house that published the Serdia Times, the paper of greatest influence not only in the imperial capital of Serdia but across the whole continent. House Blueos had made its name widely during the wars of conquest, and as its influence grew it had become one of the representative houses of the higher middle class among commoners. On the strength of that background, it could quietly set its shoulder against other noble houses. And that was why this Redprine Blueos, under the banner of academy business, had been able to go around stirring up everyone from Blow Deblique to the Julbert sitting before her now.
“If it’s for the public’s amusement, wouldn’t you be better off as a clown? You finished magic school. I expect you’d be good at it.”
“A clown would be better, wouldn’t it? I don’t earn a single coin. I’m running a loss, actually. Even the paper I scatter costs a fortune.”
“Then you could simply not do it.”
“Hahaha. I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because writing is fun?”
Redprine Blueos said it with the corner of her mouth lifted. Hearing her, Julbert let out a hollow laugh and asked back.
“If it’s for the fun of writing, couldn’t you write novels?”
“Who knows? Novels are fake, aren’t they?”
She tilted her head as if she truly didn’t understand, and the look on Julbert’s face hardened.
“Then this is real?”
“Hahaha!”
Redprine set her cup down and leaned toward him.
“Then is this fake?”
Madness glittered in the eyes fixed on him. Dumbfounded, Julbert scoffed and shot back.
“You’re spewing nonsense.”
“Hmm? No way. Greig made contact with Professor Arhudin? That knucklehead? There’s no chance.”
“That would be something even I don’t know.”
“Hahaha! Even a cat walking by wouldn’t believe you.”
Having laughed at him, she lifted a coffee cup she had long since emptied, held it in the air, and shook the last of it into her mouth.
Vulgar beyond words…
James’s face crumpled without mercy as he watched. Julbert, regarding her behavior with much the same thought, let out a thin sigh and drank his tea.
“Redprine.”
“Meow—”
She crooked her wrist like a cat’s paw, flushed, and grinned at them with her teeth showing. At last James’s patience reached its limit. He clenched his fist and stepped toward her.