And this banquet was for Julian, of all people… Though, perhaps the court saw inviting the Golden Helm to this banquet as a way of keeping Julian in check, or sending a discreet warning.
But Lushera and Kaphal wouldn’t be attending. Kaphal would be a guest of honor if invited, and there was talk that it was still too soon in the process to do that.
Lushera also wanted to get back to Mount Kugus with time to spare before the day Shurei had set for the test, so the other three members of the Golden Helm were going to the banquet, while Lushera was returning to Mount Kugus on her own.
Though, it looked like Monica was invited to the banquet as well.
“I said I would go this time,” she said. “They mentioned I would be able to meet my half-sister, who I’ve never seen in my life yet, so I thought, why not go and see her? Then…His Majesty will probably scrounge a few moments here and there between work to visit. I’ll count how many minutes he actually stays.”
Listening to Monica, Lushera could barely breathe, like she was being strangled. She looked at Monica’s cold smile and thought only, I have to stop this.
It might be the natural result of the life Monica had lived, but she was far too sensitive to ill intentions and deceit. Even the best of friends had disagreements or were sometimes selfish, but Monica probably wouldn’t even forgive that.
It was the petty spite of the nobles that forced Monica into solitude, but she was the one trying to cut every last possible connection off.
That was definitely not good. Her self-defense was turning into self-harm.
“I think it’s good for you to talk to him, even if it is for a short time,” said Lushera. “His Majesty may not be a perfect person, but…I don’t think he’s a bad person either.”
That was her honest impression.
Having imperfections and flaws was, in the end, just being human.
Lushera felt Lazlo could easily be classified as a “good person.” But…that was just the feeling she got because she was able to listen to him speaking in Draconic. It was hard to put that impression into words and explain it to others.
“Are you siding with him?” accused Monica.
“I just don’t want you to keep going like this.”
“And now you’re lecturing me?” There was hostility in her eyes. “You’re an adventurer, yes? You have battles where you might live or die.”
“Huh? Well, yeah.”
“You can’t possibly understand then. I have a perfectly cozy life, living in a safe city and protected by many people. And yet I still worry over living or dying. Doesn’t that sound like nothing more than an indulgent concern to you? An insignificant concern?”
Lushera’s breath caught in her throat.
Monica glared at Lushera, her back hunched like a growling animal trying to threaten an enemy away. “I will never be cut by a sword or torn to pieces by a monster. I will never even starve or freeze! I just came from rejecting practically a mountain of food! Doesn’t even a tiny part of you believe that I live the most blessed life possible?!”
“I…”
Monica plowed on, like the brakes had come off, her voice cracking as if her throat might tear. She probably wasn’t used to raising her voice.
She refused to understand and attacked her own value. What she said was an attack, an attempt to weaken her opponent by spilling her own blood. Her voice sounded as pained as someone’s dying sobs.
Lushera did feel attacked. She might look like she was younger than Monica, but she was actually older. She felt like she’d lived quite a lot, and she felt she had a duty to use that life experience to guide Monica. There was a tiny amount of arrogance in that, and Monica saw right through to it.
But if she backed down now, Monica would only sink deeper into her isolation. She’d come this far; she had no plans of tucking her tail between her legs and running now.
“Here, put this on for a minute,” she said, passing Monica the web of gold that was Giselle’s Ring.
“What is it?”
“It’s a ring that lets you understand Draconic. I’m going to try saying something in Draconic.”
“What…?” She looked taken aback but put the ring on anyway. It was a little loose on her finger, and she flipped her hand over several times while looking at it with suspicion.
As she did, Lushera said, “I, worried, about you.”
“Ah?!”
In her still faltering Draconic, Lushera hit Monica with those frank words.
Monica flinched back, like she’d been shoved.
Humans listening to Draconic heard only a string of short sounds with no clear meaning, but those sounds had multidimensional meaning, expressing everything including the speaker’s intent, and they had nuance, all the way to the speaker’s emotions.
Just as Kaphal had said to Lazlo, this language was not suited for lying.
“I just…no can leave you,” said Lushera.
There were several additional meanings added in there: that there was no doubt Monica’s upbringing was tragic and horrible.
They met by chance, and Lushera felt bad for Monica, which was why she wanted to help. What was wrong with that? And those feelings weren’t fake, even if Monica didn’t trust them.
That’s why Lushera wanted to try and express them, and Draconic was capable of expressing even your emotions without deception. She wanted to tell Monica that it was still too early to give up, that there were people in the world who worried about her. Lushera, at the very least, was one.
“Stop! Stop!”
“Ah…”