Swimsuits

“Ohhh—being around so many people really lifts the mood.”

“Hehe, doesn’t it? …There, all set.”

Instead of using the royal villa, Arthur’s group had rented a luxury inn near the shore and now made their way to the beach.

Already in a swimsuit, Tristan briskly set up the parasol. His tall, lean frame, with well-toned muscles free of excess, was striking even from a man’s perspective.

Maybe he should exercise more… Arthur thought when the murmur of the crowd reached his ears. Looking back, he saw Kei waving happily as she walked toward him.

“She’s huge!! As expected from the prince’s personal maid… hiding such dangerous weapons all this time…”

“Yeah… yikes.”

Arthur nearly let his eyes drift toward the abundant cleavage spilling from her bikini—a swimsuit that looked practically like underwear—but resisted with all his might.

After all, he was in the throes of adolescence, and his pride would not allow him to stare openly.

But then—

“Ehehe, I picked the swimsuit the inn staff said suited me best. What do you think?”

Kei posed with a radiant smile right before him, forcing him to look.

“Ah, um… it suits you really well.”

Blushing furiously, Arthur managed to compliment her. Kei’s face lit up with delight.

“Thank you so much. I’m glad you said that. Lady Morgan is wearing a swimsuit too, you know. Please make sure to compliment her properly as well.”

“…Morgan? In a swimsuit?”

Arthur was shocked. He remembered childhood seaside trips between their families—Morgan had never worn a swimsuit, preferring to sit apart reading books.

And then she appeared. Morgan approached, wrapped in what looked like a towel, her expression tense. She stood before Arthur.

“…How do I look?”

She dropped the towel, revealing a one-piece swimsuit that embraced her pale skin.

“Ohhh—Lady Morgan herself in a swimsuit…!”

Tristan exclaimed in joy, but Morgan ignored him, looking up at Arthur from beneath her lashes.

Arthur…

“You’re beautiful…”

…was utterly entranced. Her long, slender legs stretched gracefully from beneath the swimsuit, her skin white as snow. Compared to Kei’s pronounced curves, Morgan’s chest was modest, but still carried the softness of femininity.

If Kei embodied healthy vigor, Morgan was like a work of art.

“…Say that again, please.”

“Huh? I said you’re beautiful. Got a problem with that?”

“…I see. Thank you.”

Arthur grew brusque out of embarrassment when Morgan asked him to repeat himself, but her cheeks turned red all the same.

Tristan only smiled knowingly at the scene. At that moment, Kei rummaged through their bags and called out.

“Arthur. Let’s put on some sunscreen slime-gel. Sunlight is the skin’s worst enemy.”

“W-wait!! I can do that myself!”

“Nope. This is the personal maid’s job—your big sister’s job.”

Though flustered by Kei’s revealing outfit, Arthur was still a teenage boy—his protests rang hollow. In truth, he was secretly happy.

“Hehe, there we go. All set, Arthur.”

“Ah… thanks.”

With every inch of his skin covered in sunscreen by Kei, Arthur prepared to head to the water—when someone tapped his shoulder.

It was Morgan, her expression oddly stiff, which made him nervous.

“…Would you put some on me too?”

“Huh? Can’t you just do it yourself?”

“…You’re right… of course.”

Expecting a scolding, Arthur responded without thinking. Morgan’s eyes widened briefly, then she turned on her heel and walked away.

“Arthur… I think your fiancée just wanted to lean on you a little.”

“What? But that was Morgan…”

“You don’t understand, Arthur. You should go after her. Lady Morgan is beautiful—some stranger might try to hit on her. And when that happens, it’s the fiancé’s role to swoop in heroically.”

Arthur had learned a little about people’s hearts, but women’s hearts remained a mystery. Still, since both of them said so, he decided to chase after her.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Yes. I’ll prepare plenty of food so once you’ve made up, we can all eat together.”

“Then I shall sing a song in your honor!”

Leaving the two behind, Arthur ran after Morgan.

‘Ugh… what was I thinking…’

As she walked, Morgan sank into self-loathing. Seeing Arthur being fussed over by Kei had made her chest tighten, and in a moment of weakness she’d tried to lean on him.

And the result had been… what just happened.

Not that she blamed Arthur.

“Percival~♡ I want that one~”

“Haha, fine, fine. Let’s share it.”

Nearby, a woman clung to her lover’s arm, begging for food. Morgan sighed again.

She was bad at leaning on others. Surely, she could have handled that situation better.

“…Tristan?”

A faint melody reached her ears, and she frowned. Tristan was a skilled archer, yes—but his music served another purpose. Those familiar with his signals could understand his covert messages.

But this tune was unfamiliar to Morgan.

“Hey there, miss, all alone? Want to hang with us—gah!”

“…What do you think you’re doing?”

The men who accosted her froze at her glare. She despised such rudeness. Worse, she recognized their faces.

“C-come on, don’t be so scary… why don’t you—”

“I’m not in the mood—”

“Sorry, but she’s my fiancée. You’ll have to find someone else.”

At that voice, Morgan suddenly felt herself pulled into an embrace.