Chapter 46: Nigel and Camille
AND so Nigel arrived at the practice room at Iris’s behest to serve as a dance partner for Camille. As another Holy Maiden candidate, she was technically Iris’s rival, but he knew his sister didn’t want the title. Thus, he wanted to help her in any way he possibly could. After all, despite the discovery that Iris had no mana, their father still seemed determined to carry on…as did Reseda, the second prince of Floraison, standing beside her as if he belonged there.
Ever since they were kids, Reseda had always been interested in Iris. To Nigel, it was obvious that the prince was smitten. But because of Iris’s soilpox scars, the more traditional noble families all said she was “punished by God.” As things stood, no one would possibly ask for her hand in marriage, least of all the royal family… And the only thing that could overturn the status quo was if Iris became Holy Maiden. The Holy Maiden was holy, after all—beloved by God. It was the only way to prove that she wasn’t a heathen. Not only that, but many Holy Maidens went on to marry into the royal family.
Camille curtsied deeply. “Thank you so much for coming.”
You really don’t have to thank me, Nigel thought with a wry grin. But she was a commoner who had only recently been adopted into a noble family, so he knew she couldn’t be expected to conduct herself with perfect etiquette.
That said, he also knew what the other students were saying behind his back. At Iris’s request, he had spent a lot of time with Camille lately to train her for the monster dispatch mission; because of this, the other girls at the academy had taken to spreading false rumors about them.
It must be hard, being the subject of nasty gossip all because you were born with more mana than most.
Nigel and Iris had spent their whole lives together. As a result, he hadn’t developed any close female friendships. He based his entire understanding of women on his sister, and thus, his standards were absurdly high. From his perspective, Camille was a weak, ordinary girl who just happened to have a lot of mana. But there was more to her than just a hefty mana supply; it was her good looks and unconventional behavior that provoked these nobodies into badmouthing her. Of course, Nigel had grown up tolerating Iris’s antics, so naturally, Camille’s quirks barely fazed him.
“Likewise, thank you for inviting me.” Smiling, he offered his hand to her. Timidly, she took it. The little fairies began their orchestral performance.
If it wasn’t for Iris, I would have gone my whole life never seeing any fairies, Nigel mused.
The Chevaliers were a family of knights, and a history of poor mana could be traced back through their ancestry. Even their father admitted he’d never seen any fairies. But because they had such little mana, they were renowned for their ability to resist magic spells. In this era of peace, however, magic ability was starting to take precedence over the sword. Among the upper crust, those with less mana were seen as lesser—the House of Chevalier only received special treatment because their ancestors were famous for great acts of heroism.
Though to be fair, commoners with lots of mana don’t have it any easier than nobles with little, Nigel mused as he looked at Camille.
And yet, to her credit, he hadn’t heard her complain once. Unlike Iris, she was actually making an effort to win the race; though he had pushed her to her limit during their sword training, she simply gritted her teeth and kept trying, right to the very end. And since Iris approved of her winning, Nigel had decided he wanted to help her, too.
They spun around the floor in time to the fairies’ music, and while Camille’s steps were still a little stiff, she had it all down pat—proof that Iris had taught her well. Now all that remained was to get her to loosen up.
Nigel thought back to the times when he and Iris had danced together as children. Naturally, the twins were in perfect sync; they could simply enjoy the dance without thinking too hard. And the more Camille kept looking down at her feet, the more frustrated he became.
“Quit looking at your feet and look at me. Just trust me,” he told her, in the same tone he always used to scold Iris. Depending on how you interpreted it, it might have sounded like a pickup line, but Nigel didn’t realize this, since this was how he always talked with his sister.
Blushing furiously, Camille started to stumble. Nigel tugged on her hand, keeping her upright.
“Don’t overthink it.”
He gazed at her. Startled, she pushed him away on reflex. Her face was now beet-red, and the way she looked up at him with teary eyes took his breath away. What just happened? No girl has ever looked at me like that before…
“Sir Nigel, um…I…I know this might be normal for dancing, but…I’m not used to being so…close,” she stammered, embarrassed. And for the first time, Nigel found himself thinking of her as brave. This surprised him, since he thought all girls were like Iris, and in his eyes, his sister wasn’t very brave at all—more of the sly, cunning type.
“Sorry about that. Let’s keep practicing until you feel more comfortable.”
He donned a charming smile; she nodded quietly, staring at the floor. At the very least, she seemed willing to heed his advice.
“Good grief, that brother of mine. I can’t believe he said all that with a straight face,” Iris groaned as she watched them.
“Like brother, like sister,” Reseda sighed wearily. When she looked at him in confusion, however, he merely shrugged. “All right then, shall we get started?”
And so, he led Iris by the hand to the dance floor…