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“EXCUSE me, Master August,” Lille called politely. “Let me show you to your room. We’ve just finished tidying it.”
“Marvelous,” he said, standing up from where he was waiting in the living room. Charles had been sitting with him and was now staring wearily into the distance. It seemed like he’d been on the receiving end of a long, strict lecture. Lille also noticed that the front door had been fixed at some point.
In a way, Charles was an adoptive father to Lille, as well as her teacher. However, there was a stark difference between how he treated her and how August treated him, despite the parallels in their respective relationships.
“Oh? I have to say, this is a particularly quaint little room,” August commented when Lille presented it to him. He placed his belongings down and eyed the furniture suspiciously.
“Well, we don’t have any spare rooms, so you’ll be sleeping in mine. I do hope that’s okay,” Lille said nervously.
“I beg your pardon? But where will you sleep?” He frowned.
“Leo’s… The other apprentice is letting me sleep in his room,” she explained.
“What on earth is Charles thinking? I can’t force a young lady from her own room. Surely it’s common sense to offer his room,” he uttered in disbelief. Seeing how disgruntled he was, Lille attempted to smooth things over.
“The thing is, there are a few problems with Master Charlie’s room. Besides, my room’s the cleanest, so I personally suggested lending it to you. I think it’s important that a guest has a space they can relax in. I do apologize that the bed’s probably smaller than what you’re used to, though…” She smiled sheepishly. “Oh, but don’t worry. The sheets are all fresh.”
August squinted as if dazzled.
“…Very well. Thank you,” he conceded, beginning to unpack his things, and Lille moved to help him.
In actuality, August only appeared scary, due to his imperious attitude and stern manner of speaking. His presence and the aura he exuded, in contrast, were colored with a very gentle, kind feeling. He claimed he was staying at the house because he was concerned about the two apprentices, but Lille got the impression he was actually just worried about Charles.
“How old are you? I presume you’re not an adult.”
“I’m sixteen.”
“And yet, you never went to magic school?” he questioned.
“No.” She shook her head. “Where I’m from, there are no sorcerers.”
“Where might that be?”
She told him the name of her home country, and August’s face clouded over.
“That place…” His eyebrows knitted. “I see. You must have been through quite an ordeal.”
Lille genuinely didn’t believe her past was all that traumatic, and it hurt her to see people so saddened on her behalf when she confided in them.
“How much magic do you know?” he asked, changing the topic.
“Master Charlie’s taking me through all the basics of sorcery,” Lille said. One of her textbooks still rested on the desk, and she picked it up. She flicked through its pages for a moment, before stopping to place a fingertip on the relevant section. “This is where I’m at right now.”
August peered over her shoulder. “How long has it been since you started studying?”
“About three months.”
August went silent for a moment. “…You’ve made fast progress. Perhaps you’re extremely talented. Either that, or Charles is a very good teacher,” he said, but then quickly corrected himself. “No—that couldn’t be.”
“That’s not true,” Lille said. “Master Charlie’s a wonderful teacher.”
She went on to describe every and any example of his competency that came to mind. She detailed how patient he always was, how much he had taught her about both magic and daily life, how much Leo and Ark adored him, and how successful his magic item shop was. At first, August appeared seriously doubtful, but eventually Lille’s enthusiasm overpowered his misgivings, and he listened without interrupting her until the very end.
“…I accept that he might be an excellent teacher, but that doesn’t mean I’ll excuse the way he’s holed himself up all the way out here,” he murmured, averting his eyes. Somewhere within those words, Lille could sense a vague hint of loneliness.