“Welcome back.”
Lars’s eyes widened slightly when he entered the room. “You’re still awake?”
Luciano was relaxing on the sofa of Lars’s assigned room, already dressed in indoor clothes.
“You just had your first long journey. I told you to rest.” Though Lars’s words were reprimanding, his tone was gentle.
“I’m fine. Anyway, it looks like our guide from the Sorcery Department is just a regular sorcerer, just as I suspected.”
“Oh, really? He didn’t come to the salon. I suppose he was in the hall?”
“Yeah, it was the brown-haired man in one of the lower-ranked seats. His name was Qusta or something.”
“A lower-ranked seat? So did you meet him, too?”
“Who?” Eager to call out the sorcerer for his mediocrity, Luciano responded to this sudden change in topic with surprise.
“The young man with blond hair and blue eyes. He was there, yes?”
Almost everyone who had been allowed into the party was a powerful noble, which meant that there were hardly any young people present.
“Oh…yeah. There was a blond guy.”
“Interesting. He’s a member of the Romany royal family.”
Luciano’s eyes went wide at this nonchalant statement.
“What? But he was in one of the lowest-ranked seats.”
Lars smiled fondly at Luciano’s rapid change of expression. At the same time, he stifled a different kind of smile.
“Yes, he was born from a mistress and adopted into a retainer’s family. I hear he’s working in the palace as a retainer himself.”
Luciano paled. “How foolish… They need talent more than lineage to support the country.” The blond youth’s capabilities were unknown, but the young sorcerer thought it distasteful that the kingdom would go out of its way to invite him to the dinner party and then put him in the lowest seat.
“There’s no real succession drama in this kingdom, it seems. Prince Yurius, whom we met today, appears to be the surefire candidate for the throne.”
“Prince Yurius, huh? Well, he seems okay, but he is just getting things handed to him on a platter.”
“Ha-ha, you certainly have a competitive spirit, Luciano.” Lars chuckled at Luciano’s petulance.
“The top seat should go to the person with the most merit!” Luciano retorted. “Obviously! Just like how you ought to be king, Elder Brother!”
“Shush now. You mustn’t call me that here,” Lars said with a forced smile.
“Oh, sorry, Your Highness…” Luciano went quiet. “But…I really…”
“Yes, I know. Thank you.” Lars stroked and kissed the luscious black hair on the top of the dejected Luciano’s head. “Now go to sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day.”
“Okay…” Luciano nodded without retort, knowing that Lars was in no mood for further conversation. Above all, Lars was tired after his first dinner party in a foreign land.
But then another thought seemed to occur to Luciano.
“If that fellow was royalty, who was the other man with him?” the young sorcerer said, turning around at the door.
“Which man?” Lars had not been observing that part of the table so closely.
“Oh, there was a fellow with black hair and eyes in the lowest seat next to him. He had this sort of listless look about him.”
“I suppose he’s a sorcerer?” Lars suggested, for that was what the word “listless” brought to mind.
But Luciano looked puzzled. “I wonder. He did seem friendly with Qusta, the court sorcerer, but…” The young sorcerer tried to summon every recollection about the listless man who sat next to Norbert…but nothing really came to mind. He had been some distance away.
“Hm… Well, I’ll keep an eye out for him. Now sleep, Lufi.”
“Have a good night…Elder Brother.”
Even after the door closed, Lars remained alone in his room, sorting through the information he’d gleaned from the dinner party.
✦ ✦ ✦
The dinner party ended early, likely because one of the main guests was a boy not yet of age. By the time Seiichirou got home, it was still only Wood Hour (before 9 PM).
“Welcome home, Mr. Kondo.” Valtom greeted him at the door.
“Yes, I’m back. Now, about Aresh…” Seiichirou began to ask, though he quickly noticed the smile in Valtom’s eyes.
No, it’s not what you think. Seiichirou did not say this aloud, however, and simply went straight for Aresh’s room.
Although their rooms were connected, only Aresh had the key to his personal room. Fair enough, Seiichirou thought. It was Aresh’s house, after all.
Just as Seiichirou was about to knock on the door, he remembered that he was still in his dinner clothes. He contemplated going back to his room to change, but then decided that having the formal outfit on would help him demonstrate his point quicker. Gingerly, he knocked on the ornate, wooden door.
“Excuse me,” he said when there was no response.
There, he found Aresh sleeping, sprawled on the sofa. Maybe it was because he was a knight, but he rarely showed his sleeping face to anyone.
The sofa’s cabriole legs looked too dainty to support Aresh’s frame, but it was made of sturdy stuff, and the cushioned section was as vast as a couch. It was probably custom-made.
Seiichirou had been ready to march right in and give his partner a piece of his mind, but the other man’s snoozing face quashed his momentum. Aresh had such long eyelashes.
Then it occurred to Seiichirou that it was inefficient to stay in his current outfit. It would be best to change before it got dirty. Just as he turned around, he sensed a powerful weight on his back.
“Whoa.”
He’d been prepared for the impact, but it was lighter than he’d expected. Maybe magic was involved. The next thing he knew, Aresh was straddling him on the sofa.
“You’re back,” Aresh said.
“Indeed I am.” Seiichirou couldn’t help but smile at the traces of sleepiness still evident on Aresh’s face, but the bigger issue here was their compromising position. “Please get off me, Aresh. My clothes will get wrinkled.”
“Who cares?”
“I care. They’re expensive, and I can’t compensate you for them.”
Even Seiichirou could tell that his clothes were made with high-quality fabric and embroidery. Even an optimistic estimate of its price looked like well over a month’s worth of Seiichirou’s income. This was no meager sum, given that he received both a stipend from the kingdom and a salary as the assistant director of the Accounting Department.
Although he handed the whole stipend over to Valtom to pay for his rent and living expenses, he certainly wasn’t poor based on his managerial-level salary alone. But the nobility had a very different idea of money. Seiichirou couldn’t buy a house at the drop of a hat like Aresh could, nor could he afford to whip jewel-studded dinner clothes out of nowhere.
This thought made him remember why he had come to Aresh’s room in the first place.
“They’re yours now, so you can do what you please with them,” said Aresh, which prompted Seiichirou to exert his barely existent stomach muscles and try to sit up.
“Yes, and that’s what I’m here to talk to you about. Anyway, could you get off me, please?” Seiichirou asked, again trying to sit up. Aresh, however, refused to budge an inch. “Please, Aresh. It’s important.”
“Say it, then,” Aresh urged him with his eyes, still not shifting his position.
Seiichirou gave the matter some thought. Deciding that it was best to rip off the band-aid, he gave up and got to the point.
“It’s…about the lapel pin,” he said. He peered at Aresh’s eyes, the same color as the jewel embedded in the silver flower pin on his collar. Aresh said nothing. He waited for Seiichirou to speak. “I heard about what it means… I can’t excuse myself for my ignorance, but when it comes to things like this, you really should have—”
“Would you have worn it if you knew?” Aresh cut off Seiichirou before he could finish.