Invitation.

“You must have had such a difficult journey getting here.”

“To call it difficult would be an overstatement.”

“Come now, don’t speak as if you’ve seen it all — you’re still young, aren’t you?”

“No, that’s not really what I—”

“Aspara…”

He seized her hand and pulled it toward him, then brought his face close to her ear, wearing an expression of misty-eyed tenderness he had composed entirely on his own.

It was the sort of expression where tears welled up but were heroically held back, the corners of his lips barely managing a smile, infuriatingly, achingly tender.

“…Good heavens, Aspara. You’ve gone so pale from missing me… My heart was simply too pure, and I was briefly bewitched by a villainess — but worry no more, for I shall save you now.”

“What is this even.”

The sentence she had only meant to think slipped out of her mouth.

Aspara truly, genuinely wanted to go home.

Sandwiches and two plates of cake, plus fried chicken stacked high as a tower.

Ugli came through to the balcony carrying an armful of buffet food. Jack, who had been waiting on the balcony, took it from him.

“Thanks. You were gone so long I figured the food had run out.”

“Took a bit longer because I was picking up gossip on the way back. It seems the party’s host — Flower, was it? — went and greeted my lady first.”

While the two masters and the estate’s interpreter were together inside, their two attendants were enjoying something like a rare holiday.

The image of the two of them hiding away on a balcony to talk freely, looking for all the world like lovers on a secret tryst, made Jack’s heart flutter a little.

But the giddiness faltered at the mention of a familiar name.

“Fla— ah, that bastard! That man — did, did you hear what he said?”

“Hmm, it seemed like they just exchanged greetings and parted ways right after. My lady didn’t look particularly angry or shaken, either.”

Ugli spoke as though trying to reassure Jack, whose expression had shifted to worry.

“My lady’s always like that, though. No matter how upsetting the situation, she never looks sad or angry. She doesn’t look especially happy, either.”

“My lady has always been an easygoing sort.”

“Never leaves her room, either. I hear that when she was living here, there were plenty of days she didn’t even get out of bed.”

“She’s just an untroubled person.”

Jack fell abruptly silent after that last remark. On the quiet balcony, only the faint sound of music drifted through the window.

Ugli watched with a sly look as the young knight pretended to be focused on the food, chewing with exaggerated motions.

“You know, when people think of someone with a weak sense of self and low self-esteem, they picture some jittery, trembling thing. But I don’t think that’s right. The people with truly low self-worth are often the ones who seem thick-skinned and tough on the outside.”

“Don’t you speak ill of my lady!”

“I never said I was talking about your lady.”

“Ah, sorry.”

Ha ha. Ugli laughed lightly, wearing the look of a good-natured soul.

Well, it was about your lady, though.

Unlike Jack, who disliked Ugli’s castle lord, Ugli had taken a liking to his master’s new bride in his own way. The way she never meddled in other people’s affairs, the way she seemed willful at first glance but somehow knew her place.

Since Aspara’s arrival, Gus had been showing sides of himself no one had seen before.

I am a monstrous man — how can I ever be forgiven? Watching a battle-hardened warrior who had seen it all agonize over guilt like a fresh recruit was novel in many ways.

And yet, listening to Jack’s stories, it didn’t seem as though Aspara hated the castle lord all that much.

The way I see it, my lady is—

Ugli thought about the new mistress of the house.

Aspara. He did not think she was the fragile magnolia blossom, the tragic heroine his lord’s eyes saw. No, objectively speaking, given the life she had led, she was certainly the protagonist of a tragedy.

But a fragile magnolia blossom she was certainly not.

Jack, on the other hand, seemed to serve Aspara as though she were strong and unshakable as a mountain, a long-suffering young lady. Perhaps, as he said, she was simply an easygoing person.

But she’s not a strong person, either, Ugli thought.

Not hating when you have every reason to hate — that’s not goodness or fortitude. It’s apathy.

“Standing here like this, I feel like I should be saying something romantic.”

A voice bright and high as a boy’s cut abruptly into Ugli’s meditation. It was Jack’s.

He had already cleared half the plates of food and was gazing out at the view beyond the balcony.

“Go on, then. Say something romantic.”

“I can read well enough, but I’ve got no talent for writing.”

Ugli leaned against the railing beside him and swiped a piece of fried bread. Chewing and swallowing it, he spoke.

“The easiest trick is simile. Just grab anything and compare it — you get a fairly poetic-sounding line. Look around you, find the most beautiful thing in sight, then slot it into a sentence. Here, watch.”

Ugli glanced around briefly, then plucked a flower from the railing’s decorations. With a deliberately exaggerated flourish, he said in a comically theatrical tone:

“Your eyes are as beautiful as a marigold.”

“That’s pretty bad.”

“It was just an example, so I didn’t try very hard. You wouldn’t think it to look at me, but back in the day — mm, anyway. If you apply the technique, it works surprisingly well. When I was giving lessons to His Lordship, it was the very first skill I taught him in Lesson One.”

“Lessons?”

“Ah.”

Ugli, who had been tucking the marigold behind Jack’s ear, froze for a moment. He pressed a finger to his lips as if to say that’s a secret, and Jack nodded as though he understood.

“I have no idea what it’s about, but I’ll keep it a secret, so say that last bit one more time.”

“I’m telling you, it’s simple. Pick the most beautiful thing in sight. Compare it to the person you want to compliment. For a beginner with no gift for words, that’s more than enough.”

“No, not that part.”

“‘Your eyes are as beautiful as a marigold’?”

“Eheeheehee.”

At that very moment, Aspara and Gus were seated near the wall of the banquet hall, both facing the same direction.

Aspara, Gus, and the interpreter between them. A party of three.

“You came all this way, and you’ve nothing to say?”

“— — — — — ——.”

The attendant relayed her words to Gus in a halting voice.

“— — ——.”

“He says he’s keeping quiet because it seems you don’t wish to be spoken to.”

“Then tell him it would have been better not to come at all.”

“— ——… — — — —…”

“— — —— —. —… — — — — ——.”

“Erm… he says he regrets making you think of all the things you’ve lost, but since you’re in your old homeland after so long, he hopes you’ll at least eat something nice…”

Aspara cut the sentence short with a suspicious look.

“Are you softening his words when you interpret?”

“No, he truly said exactly that!”

Aspara looked up at Gus’s face. He was not looking at her. His expression was harder than ever, like a demon mask.

She was quite certain this blockheaded castle lord could not possibly have said such a thing, but the interpreter looked so pitiful that she decided to let it go.

The poor attendant, sandwiched between the two of them, looked as though he might cry.

“Fine. Never mind.”

“Um… Lady Aspara, until the main event begins, perhaps you might go and dance with your hus—”

“No need.”

What her ex-husband had said was still weighing on Aspara’s mind, and she wanted to stay clear of crowded places.

He was hardly someone to be afraid of, but it was also true that she could not predict what he might do. Her plan was to sit tight without engaging anyone else and head straight back the moment the main event was over.

His house, his time. For now, staying out of the way is the wisest course.

Thinking about avoidance brought the quarrel they’d had just before coming here back to the surface.

Aspara turned the question over carefully in her mind: why had she been angry?

Why was I angry?

Because I have a mountain of work and this was getting in the way. That’s all. It’s a critical time — I need to be making money.

It’s not that I threw a tantrum because I didn’t want to come, and it’s not that I’m angry because he made the decision unilaterally, Aspara told herself.

Hardly anything in my life has ever been decided any other way.

The two of them, or rather the three of them, counting the interpreter, simply sat in silence, watching the brilliant parade of humanity in the banquet hall.

The scent of mimosa wafting from cocktail glasses was lovely.

“— — — —.”

“What did he say?”

“Uh…”

Aspara looked at the interpreter. Shortly after, Gus glared at him too.

The wilted attendant was a pitiful sight.

“He says… he knows you d-dislike him, but he asks that you put that aside for now and go enjoy yourself.”

“Ha.”

He wants me to wander a banquet hall alone, as a woman? She was still irritated that he was being stubborn about this.

She noticed the front of Gus’s straight brow was slightly furrowed.

“Very well. Then if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go see Jack for a bit.”

The moment the interpreter relayed those words, Gus flinched violently.

“—, —— — —? —— —.”

“Oh, one moment. Your husband says there’s something he’s been wanting to tell you since this morning—”

The attendant gently caught Aspara’s arm.