Chapter 107 - Festival - 5

On the street leading to Third Avenue, Bera kept stealing cautious glances at Renée as they walked. His face was filled with dismay.

Renée was absolutely furious.

WHACK! WHACK!

Renée's cane struck the ground with unmistakable displeasure. Not a tap-tap, but a whack-whack.

That alone told him how angry she was. There was no way Bera could look happy.

She had been like this ever since he briefly left the outdoor hall to somehow settle his churning emotions.

Feeling utterly miserable, Bera cautiously spoke to her.

"How did you find the festival?"

"..."

"... It is a relief that the festival could proceed safely despite that incident."

"..."

"And..."

His eyes darting about in a most uncharacteristic fashion, Bera tried to keep talking, but nothing else came to mind, and his voice trailed off.

The atmosphere was painfully awkward.

With no idea why Renée was angry, Bera began looking for a cause in all the wrong places.

'The prince?'

Had the second prince offended her while he was gone?

'No.'

When he returned, the second prince had merely been standing there with his usual stupid expression.

'Did she dislike the performance?'

But hadn't Renée been enjoying the music right up until they left?

His thoughts growing tangled, Bera looked down at their joined hands.

She wasn't clinging to his arm. Their fingers weren't intertwined, either. Her hand simply rested on his.

For some reason, that filled him with regret.

At a loss, he kept watching her mood until he finally managed to say,

"... I am sorry."

Whatever the problem was, he had decided to apologize first.

At that, Renée stopped abruptly.

"What are you sorry for?"

She had finally spoken, but her face was unmistakably sulky.

Bera flinched again at her expression and hastily added,

"I apologize for failing to consider your feelings, Saintess. I thought perhaps one of the places I took you today was not to your liking. I was insufficiently considerate..."

"That's not it."

"... Pardon?"

"I enjoyed them."

Her tone was snappish.

Bera felt even more confused. If she had enjoyed them, why did she look so unhappy? What on earth was she angry about, then?

Cold sweat streaming down his face, he continued pondering, but no matter how hard he thought, he could find no answer. In the end,

"... I am sorry."

He repeated the same words.

"I asked what you're sorry for."

Renée countered with the same reply.

Her reply left Bera uneasy. Her sharp words felt as though they were pricking him inside.

What should he do?

After further deliberation, he finally decided to tackle the problem head-on.

Wasn't that the only way? Watching her mood like this would never solve anything. If thinking alone could produce an answer, he would have found it long ago.

Now was the time to express his honest feelings and offer a sincere apology.

Having made his decision, Bera released Renée's hand and dropped to his knees on the ground with a thud. Lowering his gaze, he spoke.

"I beg your forgiveness. I am too foolish to understand your wishes, Saintess. Please instruct me."

Renée jolted. Bewilderment appeared on her sulky face.

"... What?"

"If you tell me, I will never displease you in the same way again. If you still cannot trust me, I could even make a vow..."

"No!"

Startled by the mention of a vow, Renée hurriedly protested. Bera's sudden behavior seemed to have blown away all the anger she had felt a moment before.

"Please instruct me."

At Bera's renewed plea, Renée jolted again. Her mind was going blank.

Naturally, it was because she was embarrassed to explain why she was angry.

'I'm angry because of h-holding his arm...'

How could she tell him she was angry because he had pulled his arm away?

Wouldn't admitting aloud that she had gotten angry over something so trivial be utterly humiliating?

Renée's face flushed a little.

Unable to bring herself to admit the truth, Renée stammered helplessly. Then, unable to come up with any excuse, she threw caution to the wind and shrieked at him.

"Th-that's exactly your problem!"

"Pardon?"

"Do I have to spoon-feed you even this? Do I? If you don't know, keep at it until you do! If you can't, keep at it until you can! Show some grit and figure it out yourself!"

Without even knowing what she was saying, she had parroted a lecture she once heard Norn give the holy knights under his command.

Only belatedly did she realize her mistake. But taking it back now seemed equally undignified, so Renée forced her unseeing eyes wide and continued.

"Does not knowing mean your life in the Holy Empire is over? Well? This is the problem with young people these days! Do this for me, do that for me! You never think of doing anything for yourselves!"

This, from one of those young people.

"I'm sorry..."

"Then don't do things you have to apologize for!"

"I beg your pardon..."

"If you're so fond of throwing out apologies, become an athlete!"

Renée wanted to cry.

Even as the thought that this was all wrong kept running through her head, she had built up too much momentum to stop talking.

She wanted him to put an end to this quickly, but the oblivious man was still just begging her forgiveness.

"This is why I can't sleep easy! What trouble will you get into tomorrow? How long am I going to have to spoon-feed you every little thing? Those thoughts make me sigh the moment I lie down! Sigh!"

Tears of humiliation began to gather in Renée's eyes above her flushed cheeks.

Seeing her face, Bera once again felt his breath catch.

"No. You need not tell me. I seem to have given up too hastily. I will think more deeply and come back to you with an answer, Saintess."

Renée twitched and fell silent.

Finding a way out in Bera's words, she brightened and answered,

"Y-you will?"

"Yes. I will take your lesson to heart and seek the answer myself."

As the tension began to ease, Renée felt relieved that she could finally stop saying these strange things.

"Ahem! Good thinking."

So relieved that she had forgotten why she was angry in the first place, she continued with a beaming smile.

"Get up. Lady Mari will be worried."

Tilting his head, Bera slowly rose. He couldn't quite tell whether things had been resolved properly.

It was a relief that Renée was in a better mood, but he still felt uneasy at the thought of what he would do if this happened again.

"Here."

Renée held out her arm.

Bera flinched at the arm extended toward him, at a gesture that seemed to ask for something other than holding hands. Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind.

'Surely not...'

Was it linking arms?

Had she been angry because he hurried away and pulled his arm free?

It sounded utterly ridiculous, yet for some reason Bera couldn't dismiss the possibility. As he simply stared at Renée,

"Come on, let's go!"

She waved her arm up and down, urging him along.

With a strained groan, Bera extended his arm.

Renée wrapped hers around it and pressed herself against him.

Bera flinched, then made a determined effort to banish his hypothesis.

For some reason, asking whether he was right would have been embarrassing. His instincts told him it would be better to say nothing and leave the answer buried.

Once again feeling that softness against his arm, Bera fixed his gaze straight ahead and began walking.

Before he knew it, the whack-whack of her cane had returned to a tap-tap.

Beneath the magical streetlights, their faces glowed with matching shades of red as they walked.

* * *

"I apologize."

In the manor's study, Count Vaishur bowed his head to Renée and Bera.

"His Highness is deeply remorseful as well. Please be generous enough to forgive what happened earlier..."

"N-no! I'm not angry!"

Only after Renée protested in a flustered voice did the count let out a relieved breath.

"... Thank you for saying so."

Feeling his head throb with that damned chronic headache, Count Vaishur reached inside his clothes.

"It is a modest token of our apology."

He drew out a gold-leaf envelope.

Accepting it from him, Renée tilted her head at its rough texture.

"What is it?"

"A ticket for a VIP seat at the public auction the day after tomorrow."

Bera's eyebrows rose. He was quite familiar with the item himself.

"You managed to obtain one? I understand there are only forty."

Only forty tickets for the auction's VIP seats were issued at each year's festival. Each was a precious item worth as much as a house in a kingdom's capital.

The count's gift seemed far too lavish for an apology, stirring suspicion in Bera. Just then, the count added an explanation.

"It is His Highness the crown prince's ticket. He asked me to convey his wish to apologize on his younger brother's behalf for the discourtesy."

It was both an apology and a way to unload an unwanted item.

The crown prince, who had little interest in spending money at auctions and the like, had given Renée the ticket both to cheer up his dispirited younger brother and to get rid of a spare.

Of course, none of that needed to be said, so the count made no mention of it.

"Thank you."

Renée smiled faintly as she ran her fingers over the envelope.

'What a windfall.'

At the time, she had been too annoyed at Bera for running away to pay any attention to the prince. Receiving this unexpected ticket as an apology delighted her.

"I hear there are all sorts of fascinating things at the auction?"

"You could practically call it the highlight of the festival. Whenever I attend, I marvel at where they manage to find such extraordinary items."

"Oh, are you going too, Count?"

"I will be there on security duty."

"Oh..."

He worked even during the festival.

'No, he's probably busier because it's the festival.'

Feeling a little sorry for him at the thought, Renée smiled softly and continued.

"You must be working so hard."

"It is my duty."

"But shouldn't you take at least a day off? Go out with Lady Mari, too."

"As it happens, I have already arranged some leave for next week. The ball falls around then as well."

"Oh, that's right. It was next week."

"As for the prince's blessing... I entrust it to you."

"Of course."

He was referring to the blessing for Albrecht's coming-of-age ceremony, which would be held alongside the ball.

At the sight of Renée's gentle smile, an inexplicable uneasiness rose in the count.

'I hope His Highness doesn't cause trouble again.'

The anxiety stemmed from Albrecht's condition when the count had checked on him before leaving work.

Perhaps being scolded every time he met Renée had traumatized him. The prince had now reached the point where the mere mention of her name made him stiffen and tremble.

Given his condition, the count couldn't shake his worry that the prince might make an unseemly spectacle of himself at the coming-of-age ceremony.

'Please let the coming-of-age ceremony pass without incident...'

Every noble in the Empire would be gathered there.

A member of the imperial family could not be allowed to look like a fool.

Of course, no one expected Albrecht to appear imposing, but surely he ought to show at least a little dignity.

His chronic headache throbbed.

For the first time in a very long while, the count offered a prayer to the Supreme God.

Please let the prince grow up a little, so this headache would not get any worse.

He wasn't asking for much. Just let him be mature for one day—the day of his coming-of-age ceremony.

It was his earnest wish.