A Deadly Either-Or
The windowless Blue Rose Gallery of Angus Coffeehouse held nothing but a taut, humming tension.
Redprine Blueos had both corners of her mouth lifted, letting out a soft heh as she watched James. James, looking down at her, clenched his teeth and drew a long, deep breath.
"James."
Julbert's tone had dropped, unmistakably. James snapped back to himself, stepped away from Redprine, and bowed to his master.
"My apologies, Young Master."
"Step outside for a moment."
"Yes. I'll wait outside."
With that, James went straight out. Redprine followed him with her eyes, a strange smile playing on her lips.
A brief silence. Julbert took a sip of tea, then spoke again.
"Forgive him. James is... how shall I put it. A little rigid."
"Seriousness is a virtue, isn't it? Must be nice, having someone like that under you."
Redprine said it, then swept her tongue across her lips. Julbert's expression did not shift by so much as a line as he asked her,
"Redprine. Wouldn't you say our interests align, as things stand?"
"Huh? You still think that, even after reading this article?"
"Suppose, on the off chance, that Yulia Edfolk becomes student council president. What do you imagine happens then?"
The moment Julbert put Yulia's name in his mouth, Redprine's face twisted, and she shook her head hard from side to side.
"That would be awful. Our dear indigo young lady hates me! So! Very! Much!"
"Which is precisely why our interests match."
"Haha! So what, you want to be on the same side as me? Me, Redprine Blueos? With you, Young Master?"
"Yes."
Redprine studied Julbert's serious face, then burst into a giggle and asked,
"Young Master, have you lost your mind?"
"And if I haven't, do you think I'd still be sitting here?"
Julbert's gaze was sharp. She tilted her head, shrugged, and spread both hands.
"Who knows? Honestly, when you first reached out, I thought... how do I put it. The great Young Master Julbert, reduced to this? That sort of thought..."
"Then use me, reduced as I am."
"Hm?"
"I'll be using you as well."
"Meow."
"Expulsion would be rather inconvenient for you too, wouldn't it?"
"Sorry? I don't particularly care."
"Truly?"
"Hmm. Now that I think about it, maybe I do. Especially when I picture how sad my dear daddy would be?"
Even as she said it, she was smiling wide enough to show her teeth.
"All right, then. Suppose Young Master Julbert becomes student council president. What falls into my lap?"
"I'll give you freedom."
"Freedom?"
"Yes. Even now you're stacking demerits, one after another, by spreading articles."
"Of course I am. Our Indigo Witch is ever so diligent about collecting them."
"Under the banner of granting students their freedom, I'll see to it that you can keep raising hell."
"Mm! I like the sound of that."
"Whatever article you publish next year, the student council will not move to check you. That is what I'm offering."
Listening, Redprine asked, as if genuinely puzzled,
"And how do you know what kind of article I'll write?"
"So long as it isn't one that insults the imperial family, it's fine."
The instant she heard that, Redprine shivered once from head to toe, covered her eyes, and laughed.
"Hahaha! That sounds an awful lot like you're telling me to write one! Young. Mas. Ter!"
She kept laughing for a good while after that. Then she put on a thin, fishy smile, rose from her seat, tipped the last of a coffee that was already gone into her mouth, and walked to the door.
Hand on the handle, she spun back toward him.
"This looks fun."
"I like fun things too, Redprine."
"So I see. You're more entertaining than I expected, our Young Master Julbert."
And with that she flung the door wide and was gone.
James was waiting outside. She answered his stinging glare with a wink and vanished down the end of the corridor. Dumbfounded, James stared at the back of her head and shook his own, slowly, side to side.
Julbert, meanwhile, was looking at the painting of a blue rose that hung in the gallery, draining his last mouthful.
Back at the Nyx Inn.
Once the food came out, the servants' table rang with voices full of joy.
"This sausage is seriously good!"
"The sauce is insane, the sauce!"
"No, this Cheese Corn Cheese? I'm telling you, this is the real main."
"Come on, nothing gets past the wall of meat!"
The mood's good. If I just stick the landing on the last finishing blow, we're set.
Blow glanced toward the kitchen, waiting on the dish that was about to come. As if it had been waiting for that look, Melo's bright, ringing voice carried out.
"Food's coming out sooon!"
The inn was small enough that her voice reached every table. Everyone had already tasted her cooking once, so expectation sat on every face, and Rachel, seated across from him, smiled as if thoroughly satisfied and topped off Blow's glass.
"The sausage is first-rate! The sauce sits with it beautifully!"
"I'm glad it suits your taste."
"Good thing I brought the wine I've been saving and saving."
"I'm not much of a wine man."
"Doesn't suit you. Weren't you rather famous as a drunk, in your own way?"
"Wine just feels a bit difficult."
"Ah, I see. Then I'll explain it simply. This bottle is seven gold."
The price knocked the breath out of Blow. Careful not to spill a drop, he lifted the glass to his mouth. It did seem, unlike any wine he had drunk before, to carry a deeper grape scent, and what people called body felt heavier.
Just then Yulia's face entered his view: she was looking at Rachel and shaking her head as if she had had enough.
"...Lady Campbell, the joke is going a bit far."
"Hahaha! You've got a surprisingly innocent streak, Blow Deblique."
Blow looked at her, unsure what she meant, and Rachel Campbell held up three fingers. He tilted his head.
"Three gold, you mean?"
"No. Three silver. Who hauls something that expensive on an expedition? Haha."
Blow swallowed the rough words that nearly escaped and hastily armed himself with a business smile.
"Wine really is difficult."
"Sparkling wine suits you better. Try some next time."
Rachel put the last sausage on her plate into her mouth, her expression filling with pure satisfaction, and then she asked him,
"Blow Deblique! Got a wish? I'm in the mood to grant one. This time it isn't a joke. I mean it."
"A wish?"
...My wish is that you leave. Right now.
Say that, though, and he would probably trade places with Greig, standing out there all alone, so Blow only smiled and answered,
"Nothing comes to mind."
"No thought of opening a branch in the imperial capital, Serdia? This corn cheese and the potatoes are absurdly good."
"What? No, what are you saying?"
Blow hadn't even answered, and Yulia Edfolk was the one looking more startled. He glanced at her, then shook his head at Rachel.
"We haven't even properly opened yet. I've thought that if the chance comes, I'd like a branch."
"So you haven't opened, and it's already this good? My mouth is watering."
Rachel looked once at the plates emptying in front of the others, then leaned toward him.
"This is what they usually call buying at the bottom, isn't it?"
"Haha... They said they haven't even opened, and you keep pushing. Isn't that a bit...?"
Yulia Edfolk's speech had gone oddly halting again, nothing like her usual self. Blow watched the two of them talk over his head for a moment, then decided to smooth the situation over.
"Well, I'll hold an investor briefing someday."
"I'll be sure to attend. Oh, that reminds me. The Black Bridge Gathering is next month. How about doing it then?"
"Why would I go there...?"
"Why? The invitations have been going out steadily, haven't they?"
"Don't they usually hold the gathering in Serdia? It's too far."
"If distance is the problem, we'll hold this one in Caipol. What do you say, Yulia Edfolk?"
"Well, I... that would be fine."
The Black Bridge Gathering.
A place where the noble heirs currently enrolled at the academies met once a quarter to talk and trade thoughts. The name had stuck because, ordinarily, they gathered at the coffeehouse beside Black Bridge, the largest bridge in Serdia. But as with most gatherings, time had left only the name behind, and Blow had heard that these days it had grown more varied—masked balls and the like.
"Well? Blow Deblique."
"I've never been, so I think it might feel a bit awkward."
Next month they would barely have opened, and he expected to be busy, so he tried to refuse in a roundabout way. Rachel did not look inclined to let it pass.
"Then you can come this time. Come to think of it, there's one more besides you who's never shown up."
Rachel's gaze slid to Skadi. Skadi quietly avoided her eyes.
"The two of you can come together! This gathering is going to be a lot of fun!"
"Hmm... I'll go next time, not this one."
"Is that truly how you feel, Blow Deblique?"
Her tone had turned abruptly serious, and Blow flinched as he looked at her. Rachel gave him a meaningful smile.
"A man who means to do business, dodging a gathering? Then I'll just introduce these excellent dishes myself—"
"I'll go."
He was the sort who would rather die than watch someone else profit off what was his, and he answered at once, then held a hand out to Skadi, who had been holding her breath and listening.
"Come with me, Skadi! To the Black Bridge Gathering!"
"......"
"We'll go and show them what Caipol Magic School can do!"
In that moment Blow's head was full of nothing but the thought that he did not want to die alone. Skadi's expression had gone strangely subtle, but she took his hand lightly and nodded.
"All right. If you're going, I'll go."
"Perfect! You can each bring one trusted aide, so the people who ought to see each other will see each other!"
With that, everyone knocked glasses against the one Rachel held out. At the news that only a single aide could be brought, Herbena stole a look at Jane's face.
"The dish is out!"
A savory smell rose as what might be called gambas al ajillo was set before them. On the iron skillet, shrimp lay properly seared atop golden olive oil, with thinly sliced garlic cooked down until it was soft, and peperoncino and parsley spreading their own colors in a way that pleased the eye. The moment it arrived, the sweet scent of garlic cooked all the way through bloomed, and the grain fragrance off the baguette Blow had gone to some trouble to procure set appetites turning in everyone who looked at it.
"Talk after you've picked it up!"
Rachel immediately took the shrimp in front of her and brought it to her mouth. Fried as if in olive oil and properly seared, the shrimp was crisp outside and moist within, and because it was large it filled her mouth and made her glad. At the sweet, fragrant flavor of garlic—something she had only ever thought of as spicy—Rachel's eyes flew wide.
"This is incredible!"
She gave Blow another thumbs-up. He looked over the faces at the other tables, every one of them brimming with joy, let out a sigh of relief, and nodded to Melo, who was peeking out of the kitchen to watch.
"The potatoes are really good too!"
What made this gambas peculiar was that it contained potatoes, the signature of Blow's shop. Soaked through with olive oil until they were moist, they gave warmth and a nutty savor the more you chewed.
Rachel, who had forgotten even to speak while emptying her plate, looked at Blow in astonishment.
"What's this dish called?"
"...Shrimp Meat Garlic."
"Simple enough."
If some reincarnator from Spain ever heard that name, they might well slap Blow across the face. Even so, he hadn't quite had the nerve to say gambas outright, and Blow Deblique quietly avoided her shining eyes.
"An incredible flavor, Blow Deblique! And the dishes sit together beautifully. They don't overlap."
"I was worried it might be too oily. I'm glad."
"Hm? This shrimp dish isn't oily at all."
...The olive oil is glistening like that, and it isn't oily?
Blow looked at her as if he couldn't understand, and Rachel, having knocked back her wine, smiled and resolved his doubt.
"It isn't meat, is it."
"...Your standard of judgment is unusual."
"What else would I judge by? Anyway, every one of your dishes is making me happy."
"Thank you."
"How about just making these the main event at the next gathering? I think everyone would love them."
"If I did that from the very first meeting, it might look like I was pushing myself forward too much."
"That's fair, too. You've got a quietly sensible side, haven't you?"
"Thank you for the compliment."
But then something reached his ears that he truly did not want to believe.
"It's fine. I can just eat it again next week."
"What do you mean...?"
"Ah. For a while I mean to run expeditions out this way. Everyone only wants to go near the capital, so shouldn't I, next year's student council president, set an example?"
"...Then you could go near the capital too, Lady Rachel."
"Why? Am I an inconvenience, Blow Deblique?"
"A very little bit?"
"He's probably the only one who can talk to me like that. Isn't that right, Linne?"
Linne, who had been earnestly enjoying what the shrimp had to offer, nodded in a hurry and cried out,
"Y-yes, yes ma'am!"
"That's right. Linne, you make sure you come to Serdia Imperial University."
"Th-that's my dream!"
The mere imagining put Linne in a good mood, and Rachel knocked glasses with her. Then she looked around at all of them, clapped her palms together, and turned to Blow.
"Oh, wait. Then I can watch your Caipol Academia too!"
"...You're saying you'll come then as well?"
"For knight academy cadets, fifth year and after is practically all field training."
"I don't know whether I should say I'm jealous."
"Go on one expedition and you won't say that, Indigo Witch."
Rachel thought for a moment, then something seemed to strike her, and she asked Yulia, seated in front of her,
"Come to think of it. Caipol Academia has a champion's match too, doesn't it?"
"It does."
"Then are you entering this champion's match as well?"
"If I pass the preliminary tournament."
"Oh? You might not pass?"
"You only know which is longer once you measure them."
"True. And that purple-haired one over there can enter starting this time, can't she?"
Herbena, who had been drinking beer and trading idle talk with Skadi, startled and looked at Rachel. Yulia's eyes, hearing it, narrowed ever so slightly.
"When are the preliminaries?"
"...I don't want to tell you."
"Come now."
"The end of November."
"Barely a month left! Sophia! Adjust the schedule properly!"
"Yes, my lady."
One of her escort knights, quiet until then, rose and offered her a formal salute.
Caipol Academia.
If the Serdia Academia was an exchange among students from across the whole Empire, Caipol Academia was an exchange tournament among the schools inside the city of Caipol.
And the moment Blow Deblique heard it, his eyes lit up.
A festival lasting several days. Countless things he could do were already rising in his head. Light food, of course. He could unveil a new potion from the potion shop. He could lead with drinks—Elderflower tea, vin chaud, that sort of thing. Whatever he did and however he did it, he was deep in that happy imagining when Rachel Campbell, her face full of mischief, cut it short.
"Hey, Blow Deblique."
Blow came back to himself and checked her emptied plate.
"Yes, my lady. Is the food not enough?"
"Mm, that too. But what do you think?"
"About what?"
"Between Herbena and Yulia, who do you think will enter?"
Ah.
The moment he understood the question, his breath caught.
"...How many get selected?"
"You don't know what a champion's match is? One person, obviously."
In truth he already knew that perfectly well. Of course he did. He had gone around fighting duels; there was no way he wouldn't know. The only reason he had asked again just now was to drag out even a little more time.
Every eye turned on him at once. He answered as if it were nothing.
"I did spar this time, but I didn't even see the last Academia, so I don't really..."
"No. You've taken magic from both of them, at least."
"I don't remember that. Not a single thing comes back."
"Really? Then just go by feeling."
Rachel, delighted by a question she herself had asked, sat in the background, and in Blow's eyes were Yulia and Herbena, both of them with their gazes locked hard on him.
"I'm fine. Young Master Blow. Please speak honestly. I absolutely! Never hold a grudge!"
And yet Yulia's fingers were plainly trembling...
"Me too, Young Master. But unfortunately I am Young Master Blow's aide, so please don't forget that I'll still be stuck to you even after I graduate."
Herbena had lifted her words into something that was practically an open threat...
Whichever side he chose, death seemed certain, and Blow's mind went pure white.
