The chapel’s most notable feature was its sheer scale. Large enough to hold several hundred people, it too had been built, unsurprisingly, with donations from noble houses. It boasted a massive pipe organ so costly it was said to produce tones delicate enough to enchant famous musicians. That same holy atmosphere, Bibi had told her, only added to the place’s popularity among couples.
In such a vast hall, even the smallest sound reverberated endlessly.
“Ah!” a startled student exclaimed as Milly made her way toward her assigned seat.
The echo drew another student’s attention, who in turn gasped. Before long, Milly found herself the focus of countless eyes.
It’s hardly a grand affair. Why even bother with assigned seating? Milly was too occupied with such complaints to notice the stares, but to those around her, that very indifference came across as regal composure.
“It’s the grand duke’s daughter.”
“Look at that beautiful black hair. Do you think it’s true that a sister prays over it every day?”
“Surely that’s just a rumor?”
“But it’s so gorgeous, so pristine. I could certainly believe it.”
“I agree. Absolutely lovely.”
Servants were not allowed inside, so Milly made her way alone to her seat, passing by the whispering students. Front row, far end, the kind of “special seat” that all but declared you must hear the pipe organ up close. Blatant favoritism, as tiresome as ever.
Huh?
But when she arrived, a girl with chestnut-colored hair tied back in a simple knot, giving off an air of plain sincerity was already sitting there. Tension showed in her eyes, but her back was straight as a rod. She sat, quite firmly, in the seat that was supposed to be Milly’s.
The chestnut-haired girl’s confident posture even made Milly wonder if she had been mistaken, but no, this was definitely her seat.
Come to think of it, this happened before the rewind too, didn’t it? Following the thread of her hazy memory, Milly finally recalled. Back then, she had simply pointed out the mistake. The girl had gone pale, stammered an apology, and fled. Now that I think about it, I must have frightened her.
Milly hadn’t been angry in the slightest, but after that, the girl always shrank away whenever they crossed paths. She remembered her face clearly and, unusually for Milly, even remembered what the girl had said.
She’s the one Angelina called “the heroine.” I seem to recall her hair being shorter, though. Maybe she had it cut at some point.
The chestnut-haired girl was someone closely associated with Angelina, Milly’s sworn enemy...not that their rivalry had been mutual, as Angelina had simply foisted herself on her. For the heroine, this had been nothing but a nuisance. Milly remembered hearing her complain more than once.
Angelina would sometimes spout nonsense at the girl: I can see the future, I control this world. Things so absurd they deserved nothing but laughter. If even a kind, gentle girl like this had been driven to grumbling, Angelina must have been a tremendous burden.
Friends, huh?
Still, when it came to making friends, even Angelina had surpassed her. That sort of boldness was something Milly knew she had to learn. She had no interest in unloading delusions on anyone, but she wanted friends badly enough that she ached for them.
Whether or not I can actually befriend her is another matter, but I don’t want to keep making her shrink away from me.
In any case, she had to take action now. Summoning her courage, Milly took a step forward and spoke, her voice just faintly trembling. “Um, excuse me. Might you have the wrong seat?”
“Eh?” The chestnut-haired girl hadn’t expected Milly to address her. She turned only after a stunned pause. “S-Seat?”
“Yes. That’s seat twenty-five, isn’t it? My seat is twenty-five, so...”
“Wait, there are assigned seats for the entrance ceremony?!” Leaping to her feet, the girl’s eyes went wide.
Though the hall was cool, a sheen of nervous sweat glistened on her brow. Milly wasn’t sure of her background, but such bewilderment suggested she was from a modest family.
“Ah, yes. You just give your name at reception, and they tell you your seat.”
“R-Really?! I’m so sorry—I didn’t know!”
“No, it’s fine, I don’t...”
“I’m so sorry! Forgive me! What have I done to the grand duke’s beloved daughter?!”
Apparently, she knew who Milly was. That only made her more frantic, bobbing bows, tears welling. Milly panicked.
Wh-What do I do?! I don’t mind the mix-up in the least!
She had tried to speak as gently as she could, yet somehow it only made the girl more frantic. Why did it always end like this?
“I-I mean, it’s fine,” Milly sputtered. “I just, um...”
“I’m so sorry! Please, just don’t have me expelled!”
“Expelled?!”
Already flustered, Milly was thrown into utter panic. With so little experience in communication, she had no idea what she was supposed to say.
Wh-What do I do? What would be best here? H-Help me, Bibi!
If she spoke, the girl squealed. If she kept quiet, the girl apologized endlessly. To make matters worse, stares were gathering, and Milly felt herself on the verge of breaking when suddenly, a hand landed lightly on her shoulder. She turned reflexively, struck dumb. Just above her eye level, golden hair glittered in the light.
“What on earth are you doing?” The exasperated voice belonged to someone Milly knew.
“Gilbert...”
Gilbert Fritzner. Second prince of Aviria, and Milly’s childhood friend she hadn’t seen in years. She hadn’t expected him here, and the surprise left her mouth hanging open, her greeting forgotten.
And then, the heroine, who only moments ago had been on the verge of tears, suddenly let out a small, startled, “Ah.”
“Aren’t you the one who helped me earlier?” asked the chestnut-haired girl.
“Huh?” Milly tilted her head in confusion.
A moment later, Gilbert gave a small nod of recognition. “The young lady whose scarf was snatched by a bird. So you made it here safely. I’m glad.”
“Wha...?” Milly was still utterly confused.
“Ah, no,” said the girl to Gilbert. “Thank you again for your help back there.”
It seemed the two already knew each other.
When Milly looked to Gilbert for an explanation, he gestured toward the chestnut-haired girl with his chin. “She was outside earlier, in a muddle after a bird took her scarf. I helped her with a bit of magic.”
“A scarf?” Milly glanced at the girl again.
Though she still seemed timid, the tension had clearly eased with Gilbert present. It was best to leave the matter to him now, so Milly chose to remain silent. Exhaling a long, steady breath, she cast a sidelong look up at Gilbert beside her and said, “Gilbert, could I ask you to look after her?”
“Hm?”
Both the chestnut-haired girl and Gilbert blinked at her in unison. Milly continued, “She doesn’t seem to know her seat. I realize it’s a strange request after so long, but would you take her to the reception desk and help her find it?”
Surely no one else would think of using the second prince as an errand boy. Under other circumstances, such impudence might have earned her rebuke. But after a moment’s hesitation, Gilbert gave a reluctant nod. Even after nearly ten years apart, his kindness hadn’t changed.
“Thank you,” said Milly, turning toward the girl. “And I’m sorry too, for frightening you.”
“Ah, n-no, not at all. I-I’m the one who should be sorry.” Bowing deeply, the girl looked up at Gilbert with an anxious expression. He beckoned her over with a gentle hand, then naturally offered his escort.
The sight suited him so well that Milly found herself thinking, They really do look good together.
Just then, as he was about to leave with the heroine, Gilbert turned back to glance at her. “Ah, um, Milly?”
“Yes? What is it?”