◆ A Night in the Desert Nation
THE afternoons in Rasheed were hot as though it was the middle of summer. Though the temperature was warm, it was dry, making the heat tolerable and not too problematic. In contrast, their nights were chilly.
It wasn’t as freezing as a mid-winter breeze, but a cool gust of wind gently blew through the open window. It was a bit too cold to be wearing light clothing, but that was all. In fact, it was rather comfortable if one stayed indoors.
“I wonder what this is?” I asked as I gazed intently at the delectable dishes Mr. Julius had already ordered. “Dried mutton, maybe? There’s cheese and olives, I think. The seasonings make it a bit spicy.”
The room service at this luxurious inn was nothing like the food that we’d ordered at the street stalls in the afternoon. Each dish was carefully crafted and there was very little on the plate. This was, unfortunately, the ubiquitous truth of the nature of expensive food.
“The bill will be forwarded to Faisal, so we can eat and drink as much as we like, apparently,” Mr. Julius explained. “And it’s free, your favorite word.”
“I-I can’t believe it!” I stammered. “He’s so generous and grand! I might fall for him.”
“Chloe.”
“I’m kidding. Urgh! Ow! That hurts! Don’t pinch me! I was just cracking a clever joke, that’s all! Don’t get angry.”
He leaned forward to tug on my cheeks since I sat across from him—I had to vocalize my woes. A mature adult shouldn’t be so quick to act like that and be violent. Or is he drunk already? I wondered.
“Oooh, I sense jealousy,” I teased playfully. I managed to evade his painful squeezes of torment and rubbed my cheeks. “You must love me very much.” I huffed proudly and stuck my chest out. Mr. Julius stared at me intently.
“You make me keep repeating myself,” he said. “That’s what I’ve said from the start.”
“…Are you really drunk right now?”
“Not at all. This isn’t enough to get me drunk.”
“Ugh…”
“You’re good at digging your own grave, aren’t you? I’m almost impressed.”
His displeased expression shifted to one of amusement as he expertly grabbed a corkscrew and undid the seal on one of the bottles of liquor. For whatever reason, I imagined Mr. Julius just tugging the cork out without using any tools, but he elegantly opened the bottle. Figures. I mean, he was formerly a high-ranking noble and isn’t a barbarian or anything. I’m sorry. I imagined you using your hands to slice off the lip of the bottle while dynamically chugging down the liquor. I think you could do it if you put your mind to it, though.
“You’re wearing clothes where it feels like I’d lose sight of you in an instant again, Chloe,” Mr. Julius observed.
He placed his lips on the freshly opened bottle of liquor as he stared at me. I tugged on my outfit, an elegant negligee decorated with a floral pattern. The excellent fabric felt comfortable on my skin, and its design was revealing and bewitching. I knew that I had no qualities or sex appeal that allowed me to enchant or charm a man as I wished, but since the room had provided this change of clothes for me—free of charge, I might add—I thought I’d wear it. There was no reason not to. Since everything was free, I figured that I might as well enjoy this place to my heart’s content. This was my way of being respectful to the lodging and to Prince Faisal.
“I admit that I don’t hold a candle to lovely, large floral patterns,” I confessed. “I’m a young beautiful maiden, so I’m better suited to tidy, small floral prints. It’s called being young.”
Mr. Julius pretended like he hadn’t heard a word I said and silently downed the rest of his liquor, emptying it in a flash. A few open bottles were already lying at his feet. The unique bottles of alcohol that I’d bought in the afternoon were lined up underneath the table like they were waiting for their turn to be consumed.
“Say something,” I urged.
“Well,” he said. “True to your claims of being a young beautiful maiden, you’re cute, Chloe.”
“Whoa…”
His tone clearly sounded fake as he forced his voice to sound overly sweet. I could only let out a pathetic groan. After giving me an obviously phony word of praise, he opened a bottle of wine, which I assumed he had ordered with room service. He once again placed his lips directly on the bottle and gulped it down.
Was he joking? Was that his joke? Is he actually pretty drunk right now? I wondered if he was unexpectedly actually quite willing to go along with playful verbal exchanges. I wasn’t quite sure, but I found that to be rather humorous. I pressed my hands against my mouth and started to giggle, unsuccessfully trying to stifle my laughs.
“This is fun, Mr. Julius,” I said between chuckles.
“Is that so? That’s good to hear.”
“But how much are you going to drink? The banquet at the Holy Palace is tomorrow evening. Prince Faisal said that preparations were complete, and they’d come pick us up tomorrow, I think. You’re going to have a drinking contest tomorrow. That’s a battle. We can’t have you hungover.”
“Did I not tell you? I don’t get drunk.”
“I knew you had high tolerance, but…”
“I’m resistant to all sorts of poisons, including alcohol. It was one of my father’s policies. As the only son of House Craft, he fed me small amounts of toxins since I was young so that I wouldn’t get poisoned and killed. I built up my resistance, and thanks to that, I don’t get drunk.”
“Dystiana sounds way too dangerous…”
I turned pale while Mr. Julius spoke about his affair rather casually. I had no idea that there was a father out there willing to feed his own son poison. I was the only daughter of a duke, but I was never fed anything like that.
“I’d imagine everyone in the royal family went through something similar,” he continued. “Cyril Astria might have experienced something like it. I’m not part of the imperial family, but my father was a bit of an oddball.”
I thought about Mr. Julius’s late father. I wonder if he resembles the current Mr. Julius?
“Jeanius, was it?” I asked.
“Yeah. I’m surprised you remember,” Mr. Julius replied.
“Of course. It’s rare for you to talk about your past, so I remember it very well.”
“Jeanius Craft and Citrin Craft are the names of my father and mother. I haven’t thought about them for a while. I haven’t even called their names for years now. It’s a bit nostalgic.”
“Your parents must’ve been kind. Your voice sounds calm, so I get the sense that they put you at ease.”
“My father was an oddball, but he was probably a good parent to me. He was also the one who gave me a dragon egg. Without him, I would’ve never got to meet Helios.”
Mr. Julius’s father was likely killed by Emperor Oswald. I wasn’t sure about the details or the nitty-gritty of the issue, but there was likely a demon by the emperor’s side. Mr. Julius lost his father similarly to how I had, but he hadn’t said a word of it. I had also refrained from touching upon the topic.
I don’t think I want to ask him about it just yet. I’m sure that there’ll be a time when he must tell me about his father. I was certain that one day, I’d have to go to Dystiana to fight. Oswald and Samael, in the form of Princess Minne, would be there, waiting for me. I pledged to stay by Mr. Julius’s side. No matter what, I didn’t want to leave him. Because if I don’t, he’ll—
“Chloe, I think I drank a bit too much,” Mr. Julius said, cutting off my thoughts. “I’m gonna head outside for some fresh air.”
“You’re right,” I agreed. “I think you did drink too much. And you just bragged that you don’t get drunk. Are you all right? Do you feel dizzy?”
He immediately stood up and headed for the spacious balcony that stretched outside of the large window. I chased after him. It looks like his footsteps are a tad unsteady… It really is unusual.
Judging from the number of empty liquor bottles strewn on the floor, I couldn’t blame him, but if that was the case, was his childhood story about poison a simple joke?
When it came to Mr. Julius, the line between truth and jokes often blurred, and by default, I believed every word he said. I can tell when he says one of his obviously fake compliments, though.
I put my hand on his back to support him as we stepped outside. The chilly breeze caused my thin negligee to flutter. The skies of Rasheed were clear, and many stars twinkled brightly under the curtain of night. It looked like glimmering jewels were scattered across the sky as the cityscape below emitted its own share of light that flickered like fireflies. All across the city, orbs of light were floating around before vanishing.
“It’s very beautiful,” I murmured. “It’s beautiful, but it makes me feel a touch melancholic.”
These flickering lights were actually magical tools—the light of a magical garden lantern. Magical balls of fire were nestled within a spherical cage, and flames rose in the air before they burned away and disappeared. A similar tool was prominently used in Astria as well.
In our kingdom, they were often utilized during celebrations and festivals as they brightly lit up the sky, but Layla had told me that these lights represented the repose of souls in Rasheed. It was a prayer of sorts. This ritual occurred at night, when people mourned those who died in battle as they raised the fire to dance in the skies.
“Chloe, I’ll protect you, no matter what,” Mr. Julius said. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
I thought that he staggered to his feet a little, but I wondered if it was just an elaborate act. He looked up at the starry sky before he focused on me, wrapping his arms around my body for a tight embrace.
His hug was so powerful that it was almost suffocating, but I gripped and tugged on his clothes in response. His words just now offered little comfort.
“Don’t say that,” I whispered. “It’s bad luck. I’ll always stay by your side, Mr. Julius. And I’ll protect you. I’m quite strong, I’ll have you know.”
“You’re right. You really are strong,” Mr. Julius agreed.
“That’s right. I’m a genius and—”
Before I could finish my usual catchphrase, he placed his lips over mine as if he were trying to devour me whole. The strong scent of alcohol hit my nose, and my mind started to grow dizzy from it all.