Chapter 105 - Festival - 3

Renée had no idea how she had managed to keep moving. She simply planted her cane and took each step mechanically.

All the while, worries filled her mind. Was her hand sweating? Was her expression stiff? Was she walking strangely?

Unable to see Bera's reactions, she found herself worrying over every little thing.

'Ugh...'

Her head dipped for no reason. Her cheeks burned. Her face was probably red.

She needed to pretend to be at ease... But she had foolishly tucked her hair behind her ear to emphasize her neck, so hiding it seemed out of the question.

As those thoughts passed through her mind, Bera spoke.

"... We've arrived."

Renée raised her head in surprise.

"Already?"

Had they arrived already, when it felt as though they had barely walked at all? Bera answered her question in a thoroughly stiff voice.

"Yes. Third Avenue and Fifth Avenue are only twenty minutes apart on foot."

Twenty minutes.

Had she spent all that time doing nothing but feeling embarrassed?

A look of dismay crossed Renée's face as she felt needlessly miserable.

"Uh... Shall we go in, then?"

She needed to pull herself together. Hadn't she vowed to make some real progress today?

"Yes. This way, then."

Steeling herself once more, Renée followed Bera into the restaurant.

* * *

Fifth Avenue in the capital was a street of fine dining, where one could sample all manner of exquisite dishes.

Even there, [Salt's Whisper] was indisputably one of the finest restaurants.

After entering, Bera led Renée to the window seats he had reserved on the second floor.

The long table ran along the windows, requiring them to sit side by side. Since Renée faced various difficulties even when eating, a table where they sat opposite each other would not do. That was why he had specifically chosen these seats.

Bera sat down at their reserved table and let out a discreet breath, doing his best to keep Renée from noticing.

An ache around the left side of his chest had left him feeling stifled. They had merely walked hand in hand as usual, and this was hardly their first time walking through the capital together. Yet, for some reason, he felt nervous and could not seem to settle down.

Bera glanced at Renée's profile as she sat beside him.

With her hair swept neatly behind her ear, its contours lay exposed. From her rounded forehead, past the straight bridge of her nose, down over her red lips, her slender jawline curved into a sharp angle. Following that line revealed an equally delicate, pale earlobe and her fair, graceful neck.

'... A mole.'

A tiny mole marked the place where the end of her jaw met her neck.

Before he knew it, his furtive glance had become an outright stare at that mole.

Then:

"Bera?"

Bera jolted at Renée's call. Belatedly, shame washed over him.

Since she was blind, she could not have known where he had been looking. Regardless, he inexplicably felt caught, and the guilt pricked at him.

"Yes."

His voice came out painfully stiff. Chiding himself for his utter inability to get a grip, Bera waited for Renée to continue.

Renée lifted the corners of her lips into a smile that brought out her dimples, then spoke.

"What's the atmosphere like here?"

She asked with Annie's lessons on seduction firmly in mind.

Bera felt his chest tighten again and hastily looked around.

"The interior is decorated mainly in white and gray. The material is... stone. I suspect it is marble. I can see about twenty tables, and this long table by the windows has room for roughly five more parties, so the second floor alone can accommodate twenty-five tables. There are apricot-colored magical lamps here and there. Their light reflects off the gleaming marble, giving the place a rather dreamy atmosphere."

Ah, at least he hadn't stammered.

With a small sense of relief, Bera steadied his breathing.

"And the music we're hearing? Is someone playing it?"

"It is a magical device. As I understand it, a graduation project submitted by the Academy's Department of Magical Engineering several years ago became popular and came to be used this way."

"Magical engineering is fascinating."

As Renée spoke, she stroked the handle of the cane resting against her chair. Bera nodded in response.

"Yes. Given its practical applications, I expect many more fascinating inventions will emerge in the future."

People had indeed said as much: if magical engineering continued to advance, the entire continent's way of life would change within fifty years.

Of course, that prediction had come to nothing when the Demon King laid the continent to waste.

"Hmm..."

Nodding at Bera's words, Renée let a question slip out almost casually.

"Will they invent something that lets blind people see, too?"

Bera's fingertips trembled. He looked toward Renée, searching for any sign of sadness, any hurt she might be harboring inside.

Silence naturally settled between them.

Bera bit his lip lightly before finally breaking it.

"... They certainly will. If they don't, I will go there and order them to make one."

"Pfft, what kind of answer is that?"

A breathy laugh escaped Renée. All the while, gratitude welled up inside her.

Bera knew only how to take everything seriously. He surely wasn't joking about this, either.

His resolute willingness to go that far for her left her both grateful and excited. Smiling, Renée continued in a slightly teasing tone.

"Are you going to threaten them?"

Bera felt a pang of guilt. He had, in fact, been considering that very approach.

Wasn't it true? Scholars, as a rule, were the sort of people who could make anything if squeezed hard enough.

He had spoken from actual experience handling them that way in his previous life. But at Renée's question, he belatedly remembered that such behavior was wrong and pressed his lips tightly shut.

Renée giggled at his sudden silence, then continued in an even softer voice, almost a whisper.

"If there isn't one, I'll simply live without it."

"But..."

"You'll show me the way, won't you, Bera?"

She cut off his attempted protest with those words. Sensing Bera jolt, Renée felt a pleasant delight well up inside her. Her face was growing redder.

"... You remember promising to stay by my side, don't you?"

It was something Bera had said in Remeo three years ago.

And even after all those years, those treasured words had not faded in the slightest.

Did Bera know what his promise to live for her had meant to her?

"It's all right if I can't see. I'm used to it."

After saying that, Renée paused for a breath, composed herself, and added in a gentle voice,

"You'll show me the way, Bera. So I can live just as I am."

She was not speaking merely of her sight. In those words, she let slip a little of the truth she had kept carefully hidden within.

Bera's pupils quivered.

He had certainly made that promise himself, and the context of their conversation left no room for another intention.

Yet somehow, her words felt improper, leaving him burning inside.

"... Yes. That is right."

Unable to calm his heart, Bera fidgeted with his water glass as he continued.

"I will always remain by your side, Saintess."

Having said that, Bera gulped down his water. Yet the heat inside him remained. Even the cold water he was drinking could not settle him.

His gaze, which had been on Renée until a moment ago, now turned out the window. He frowned. He felt he would lose control of his expression unless he did at least that much; it was all simply too embarrassing.

These were pathetic attempts to conceal his flustered state. Unfortunately, Renée could sense his embarrassment all too clearly.

His tone, the rustle of his movements, the sound of him gulping down water.

Despite the voices of other diners nearby and the music playing in the restaurant, those were the only things etched vividly into Renée's awareness.

Bera alone filled her entire world.

Suddenly, Renée felt a small pang of regret.

'I want to see his expression.'

What expression was Bera wearing now? What color was his face? Where was he looking?

There were so many other things she wanted to know, too. She needed every visual detail of the person called Bera.

She had said she was all right without sight, but even so, she could not help feeling wistful.

Simply because she was curious about Bera. Because it was him she wanted to see, not the world.

That was what stirred this faint regret in Renée.

* * *

Even with his heart unsettled and his thoughts in disarray, the meal was delicious.

At least, that was what Bera thought.

'Has it been almost ten years?'

It had been a very long time since he had enjoyed a multicourse meal like this. In his previous life, he had been too busy fleeing after the Demon King's rise, and in this life, he had never had the opportunity.

Pleased to indulge in fine dining after so long, Bera offered Renée a piece of steak he had cut.

"Please try this as well."

"Oh, thank you."

Renée smiled and took her fork. Guided by Bera, she carefully speared the steak and brought it to her mouth.

For a moment, she chewed, savoring its flavor.

'It is good, but...'

It tasted somewhat bland. That was her impression.

If she had to describe it, she supposed she could call it an "expensive taste."

'I think Lady Mari's soup might taste better.'

She had liked its punchy flavor.

'Maybe I'll ask her to make it once more before she leaves.'

Renée, an "eater of bizarre food," to borrow Bera's words, chewed and swallowed her steak while entertaining those thoughts, then shook them off.

'Well, the atmosphere is nice, at least.'

Perhaps that was what made this place famous.

The softly playing music, the sense of warmth. According to Bera, the interior was quite well designed, too. It would be fair to call this a restaurant people visited to set the mood on special occasions.

Renée smiled faintly at the thought. It seemed Bera had taken today's outing seriously, and that realization sent a flutter through her heart.

Of course, unaware of her thoughts, Bera saw her smiling as she ate the steak and concluded that she was enjoying her meal.

"Excuse me."

A waitress had approached their table.

Looking at the sorbet she served, Bera asked,

"What is this made from?"

Its unusual color had prompted the question: a gleaming frozen dessert suffused with white light. He had never seen this dish here in his previous life. In answer to his curious question, the waitress gave a gentle smile.

"It's a new dish our chef created. It was inspired by the miracle that appeared in the sky over the capital recently."

Renée's shoulders gave a little twitch at the waitress's words. She felt rather embarrassed.

"... Thank you."

Hearing that she had provided the inspiration, she had spoken without thinking. But the waitress, who did not know Renée was the Saintess, merely tilted her head in puzzlement.

"Please tell the chef we look forward to enjoying it."

"Oh, certainly. Enjoy your time here."

After Bera smoothed things over, the waitress left, and an awkward atmosphere began to settle between them.

"Hmm, this is embarrassing."

"I believe it is something to be proud of."

"Is it?"

"Yes. To a chef, a dish is like a work of art that embodies their personal philosophy. Surely having a dish created this way means you have become the muse for that art, Saintess."

A muse was going a bit far.

Feeling even more self-conscious at his excessive praise, Renée gave an awkward laugh and changed the subject.

"Let's try it, then."

Feeling she might truly die of embarrassment if she listened any longer, Renée scooped up some sorbet and put it in her mouth. Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she exclaimed,

"Mmm! It's really delicious!"

The pungent, salty flavor sent a thrilling tingle through her. It suited her tastes perfectly.

A radiant smile naturally spread across her face.

"Hurry and try it, Bera. It's really good."

So this place specialized in desserts.

As Renée reached for another spoonful with that thought in mind, Bera nodded lightly and tried some sorbet himself.

Immediately:

"Mmph...!"

Bera's face twisted into a grimace.

"It's good, isn't it?"

Bera looked at Renée in bewilderment.

Was there something wrong with him if the sight of her waiting so expectantly for his answer made him angry?

Unable to bring himself to meet her eyes, he lowered his gaze to the floor and forced out an answer.

"... Yes."

No matter how he thought about it, he simply could not understand Renée's taste in food.

That was the thought passing through his mind.