The Real Jonah

“In that case, shall we run off somewhere together now?”

Saying that, Marguerite flashed a mischievous smile.

“Somewhere…?”

“Yes.”

“B-but, Lady Marguerite, you came here to attend today’s banquet, didn’t you? If that’s the case…”

“Hehe, originally I came with my father thinking I might meet Jonah again at today’s celebration. It’s not like I particularly wanted to take part.”

Jonah, hesitating, timidly asked, but Marguerite answered with a smile.

“B-but, in that case, where would we go…”

“There’s a place I’ve wanted to visit with Jonah if we ever reunited. So let’s go there.”

“A place you’ve wanted to go together…?”

“Yes! The place where you showed me a miracle… That southwestern hill in the Hagenberg territory!”

The place Marguerite suggested was, unexpectedly, that green hill which had burned away the great swarm of locusts.

“And Jonah, if it’s you, you could teleport us in an instant no matter how far away the place is, right?”

Marguerite leaned in so close her nose almost touched his face and peered at Jonah.

Stared at from such close range by those crimson eyes, Jonah’s face flushed scarlet before he knew it.

“W-well, all right! Let’s go to that hill!”

“Thank you!”

“W-w-w-what!?”

Flustered, nervous, and overwhelmed by many other emotions, Jonah agreed on impulse, but Marguerite threw her arms around him with a beaming smile, turning not just his face but his ears and neck bright red.

Marguerite, for her part, feigned innocence as she clung to Jonah, but in truth her heart raced with embarrassment and nervousness. The little girl was trying desperately not to let the one she cared for slip away.

“W-well then, let’s go!”

Jonah pointed his index finger at the floor and drew a magic circle; the two of them were then teleported to the southwestern hill of the Hagenberg territory.

There, before them.

“Wahhh…!”

A sea of golden, shining wheat fields spread as far as the eye could see, and Jonah couldn’t help but let out an awed sound.

“I wanted to show this sight to Jonah… The miracle you made saved these very wheat fields before us…”

Marguerite, standing beside him, tucked her white-blond hair, which was blowing in the wind, behind her ear and smiled gently.

Before long, Jonah found his gaze stolen not by the golden wheat but by Marguerite.

“Oh…? Is there something on my face?”

“…!? N-no, nothing!”

Noticing his stare, Marguerite asked, and Jonah hurriedly shook his head to cover his embarrassment.

He couldn’t possibly admit he had been mesmerized by her; saying so would be unbearably embarrassing.

“Huhu, what a strange Jonah.”

Marguerite chuckled softly and pressed her cheek against Jonah’s shoulder.

Her warmth felt pleasant, and Jonah leaned closer as well.

“Well… if it’s hard to answer you don’t have to, but why did you not want to attend the celebration, Jonah?”

At first, she thought she wouldn’t ask.

But… still, Marguerite asked.

She didn’t know what he was suffering from, but she wanted to help him even a little.

“Ah, ahaha… I’m sure it’s not interesting even if you hear it.”

Jonah scratched his head and forced a wry smile.

In those onyx eyes there was a welling of loneliness and sorrow.

But Jonah felt maybe he could tell Marguerite.

Because it was Marguerite who had accepted someone like him.

“It doesn’t matter. I want to know everything about Jonah…”

Her crimson eyes moistening, Marguerite gazed at Jonah.

Her expression held compassion, and yet revealed a dignified inner strength.

“It’s really a stupid, trivial story…”

Jonah slowly opened his mouth and began to speak.

He spoke of being clumsy by nature, unable to do things ordinary people could, and of being scorned all his life in his family home as a useless failure.

He had tried so hard, but there was no one to notice him; though he pretended not to care in front of others, he had cried alone.

And yet, he had secretly believed that someday his father and family would notice him, only to be clearly abandoned by them.

And so… he had run away from such a home, deciding to travel and live alone.

“Jonah… you…”

“Yes. My name is Jonah… Jonatan Gerhard Langheim. I was the eldest son of the Langheim Ducal House…”

Hearing Jonah’s real name, Marguerite covered her mouth with both hands.

A marriage proposal had been offered from the Langheim Family two months ago.

The other party was the next heir, Siegvald Klaus Langheim… in other words, Jonah’s younger brother.

“My father and family will surely be at the celebration. That’s why I… ran away. I didn’t want to see them; I didn’t want to be hurt anymore…”

Jonah’s shoulders trembled slightly.

He had surely endured much pain until now. Thinking that, Marguerite felt as if her heart had been seized and it hurt.

“So the real me is this pathetic, weak person. I… I…”