Chapter 112 - The Ball - 2

The coming-of-age ceremony ended without incident.

In the corridor leading to the waiting rooms, Bera was walking with Renée's hand in his when he suddenly spoke.

"... I wonder if that was rather excessive."

His tone was sulky.

Renée tilted her head at his words.

"Pardon?"

"I wonder if using your divine powers was going too far."

"Oh, it was barely a fingernail's worth. It probably won't have much actual effect at all."

Bera must be worried. With that thought, Renée answered lightly, and his expression darkened a little further.

He had nothing to say in rebuttal.

After all, even this supposed concern was merely a complaint born of his not liking it. How could he possibly find grounds to argue?

He disliked all of it: Renée using her divine powers for Albrecht, Albrecht grinning in sheer delight, and the nobles applauding the spectacle.

Bera needlessly chewed his lip at the feelings rising within him, then brushed them aside.

"... Then that is a relief."

It was only right that Renée's divine powers be used for the world. He need only regard all of this as a show.

Bera chided himself for being sensitive over nothing.

... No, he merely supplied another excuse for his seething feelings.

'It's because I don't like the prince's grinning face.'

It was closer to self-justification than an excuse, but he did not care. If it put his mind at ease, that was enough.

As his thoughts continued, Renée spoke again.

"Was the ball in an hour?"

"Yes. We need not enter the moment it begins, so we can take our time getting ready."

"You're changing too, aren't you, Bera?"

"My priestly robes will suffice."

"What?"

Renée lifted her head, her voice full of disappointment.

"After making me wear a dress?"

"I am only attending you, Saintess. I have no reason to dress up."

Renée's brows drew together at his casual answer.

"No."

"... Pardon?"

"You're changing too."

It was a little... very unreasonable, but Renée remained adamant. There was no other reason behind it.

She simply wanted Bera to wear a tailcoat because she was wearing a dress. It was a purely emotional reason without a shred of logic. Even if he changed, she would not be able to see him, but that did not matter.

Only one thing mattered: Bera in a tailcoat, and herself beside him.

Unable to reveal those feelings outright, Renée added a plausible excuse in a slightly petulant tone.

"... You're supposed to dress for the occasion. That means wearing a tailcoat to a ball."

"But..."

"If you don't change, I'll go just as I am, too."

Renée began squeezing his hand. The gesture carried a clear message: Just try refusing.

Bera looked troubled by her tightening grip, but eventually nodded.

"... Very well."

Delighted with the answer she had secured, Renée broke into a broad smile beneath her veil.

Their conversation had brought them to her waiting room before they knew it.

Renée released Bera's hand, felt along the wall for the doorknob, and disappeared inside with a parting remark.

"Then I'll see you in a little while. I'm definitely checking whether you've changed."

THUD.

The door closed.

For a moment, Bera found himself wondering how she intended to check.

* * *

Bera's waiting room.

Surveying the several suits hanging along the wall of the modestly sized room, Bera furrowed his brow in deliberation.

Since Renée wanted him to wear a tailcoat, he felt he ought to choose properly.

There was no one there to help him change, but that was fine.

Had he not dealt with countless nobles and valuables in his previous life? He was perfectly capable of selecting clothes suitable for such an occasion.

'No light colors.'

Bera knew his appearance had a dark cast to it. Wearing light colors might only create an incongruous contrast with his pale complexion.

'No vivid colors, either.'

That was a matter of taste. Bera had no desire to wear conspicuously colored clothes.

That left three black suits.

He examined their designs carefully and put on the simplest, cleanest one, without embellishment.

He kept his accessories restrained: a single brooch to provide an accent. He selected one shaped like a cross to identify him as someone from the Holy Empire and pinned it on.

He swept back the hair that always hung over his eyes, then stood before the mirror and adjusted his clothes with a satisfied expression.

'This will do.'

His physique was so good that even this much was enough to make him look distinguished.

It might have been self-praise, but he did not care. Was a reasonable measure of shamelessness not excellent fuel for confidence?

'Twenty minutes.'

Checking the time remaining until the ball on the wall clock, Bera let out a deep breath, left his waiting room, and headed toward Renée's.

* * *

Renée's waiting room.

Seated in a chair in the middle of the room, Renée shrank into herself, her face crimson.

"I-isn't it too revealing...?"

Now that she had changed, she felt the dress revealed far too much.

Her shoulders, neck, and back were all exposed, leaving the air against her bare skin. And the fabric was so thin, so tight. The way it clung to her body made her feel indecent.

Fortunately, the skirt flared widely enough to conceal her lower body, but even so, her embarrassment at having her figure so plainly on display was soaring sky-high.

As Renée sat at a loss, newly aware of the tremendous defensive capabilities of her ceremonial robes, Annie contradicted her with a satisfied expression.

"Saintess, you can't do that. Hmm? Confidence! You have to be confident! I'm telling you, you look gorgeous! Sir Bera's going to drop dead over this!"

She sounded like some third-rate back-alley thug.

"I told you. Men are vulnerable to visual stimulation. You've never worn anything that showed off your figure before, Saintess, and now, BAM!!! You unleash your power like this, and his eyes are going to roll right back in his head!"

Annie clenched her fists.

"Ah...! I'm sure you didn't plan it this way, but keeping yourself all wrapped up for the last three years has paid off! Unexpected charm! It's the surprise that matters. The surprise!"

Renée's head kept drooping lower and lower. A little farther and she might burrow into the ground. Her posture was enough to make one imagine a mole hailing her as kin.

"Back!"

At Annie's command, Renée jerked her head up and straightened her back.

"Neck!"

She straightened her neck as well.

Her posture was so rigid that she resembled a wooden doll.

Seeing her, Annie felt a flicker of unease.

'This will be all right... won't it?'

She was far more embarrassed than expected. Showing off one's figure required the brazenness to display it proudly, but this hopelessly shy Saintess did not have it in her.

As Annie considered this, another feeling soon overlaid her concern.

'... No.'

This was actually better. That shy demeanor, contrasted with a body making its presence thoroughly known. That could count as a kind of surprise, too.

"Saintess, repeat after me. Pretend to fall!"

"P-pretend to fall!"

"Confidence!"

"C-confidence!"

"Subtle physical contact!"

"S-subtle physical... contact!"

Renée's lips trembled. The blush on her cheeks had spread across all her skin, turning her once snow-white complexion red.

Just then—

KNOCK, KNOCK.

Someone's knocking echoed through the waiting room.

"Saintess, are you ready?"

It was Bera.

Renée froze like a statue. Tension appeared on Annie's face. Hella yawned.

"Y-yes!"

At Renée's intensely nervous reply, Annie patted her back and whispered encouragement.

"Deploy."

Renée nodded.

* * *

When the waiting-room door opened, the first thing Bera did was look at the ceiling.

"..."

Silence settled over them.

Desperate to restore his shock-rattled thoughts to order, Bera poured killing intent at the ceiling and tried to regain his reason.

'... Just now.'

He thought he had seen something rather indecent. No, not rather. Very, exceedingly, incredibly indecent.

"... Have you been waiting long?"

Renée's soft, trembling voice slipped into his ears.

"Not at all."

Bera answered mechanically. Meanwhile, his entire body was growing steadily rigid with tension.

He had seen her for only an instant, but he could not forget what he had seen.

A snow-white dress. Wavy white hair, downcast blue eyes. As when they had visited the festival, her hair was tucked behind one ear, leaving her neck fully exposed. Her collarbones. Below them...

'... No.'

He was not thinking about it. He knew nothing of such things.

His eyes squeezed shut.

He had to look away somehow. He had seen nothing.

As he tried to reassure himself with those thoughts—

["Love... dunce?"]

["Totally clueless!"]

Aisha's words suddenly resurfaced and began gouging at him.

Bera flinched, his body shuddering.

He did not know why those words had come to him at this precise time, in this moment, in this situation.

But the words rising above his embarrassment were so powerful that looking away again felt like admitting they were true.

For some reason, his pride felt wounded. Hiding his trembling as best he could, he spoke.

"... You look beautiful."

For the first time, Bera had said it without being asked first.

Renée's body jolted. Her lips parted slightly, and her eyes widened with surprise.

Watching through the still-open doorway, Annie clenched both fists and cheered silently. Hella let out an impressed "Oh."

A brief silence followed. Then Renée spoke, her voice trembling.

"... Thank you."

Renée took one step forward. Bera faltered.

"Shall we go?"

"... Yes."

Bera laid his hand beneath Renée's outstretched one. Holding it, she linked just one finger with his, creating an odd arrangement that was neither intertwined fingers nor a proper handclasp.

The gesture was as awkward as the atmosphere.

THUD.

The waiting-room door closed.

From inside came Annie's jubilant cry: "That's what I'm talking about!!!"

"... Let's go."

Feeling embarrassed herself at the sound of Annie's voice, Renée hurried Bera along.

"... Yes."

Bera's head was still tilted upward. His eyes were tightly shut.

The two people who could not see ahead began walking. Fortunately, Bera was trained enough to move without difficulty even with his eyes closed.

Ten minutes of walking would bring them to the ballroom.

In other words, they had to walk this awkwardly for ten minutes.

Aisha's voice rang through Bera's head again.

Love dunce. Totally clueless.

Those two phrases rebuked him. Say something. Stop acting like a fucking idiot, all nervous and hesitant. Like the strokes of a skilled swordsman with a swift blade, they assaulted him without pause.

Bera reflected that Aisha's taunts did not strike immediately, but produced a powerful delayed impact. They would be a useful weapon in a prolonged battle.

He ought to go and praise her... No, he could not praise her for this. Tomorrow's training would have to be a little harsher.

With impatience mounting and those words needling him, Bera spoke again.

"Who selected your dress?"

Who on earth had handed Renée such a vicious garment? When he asked—

"Lady Mari and Annie went to a lot of trouble for me."

Renée identified the two culprits.

Regret stirred within Bera. Both were people he could do nothing about.

"... Isn't it too revealing?"

"You look splendid."

He blurted out the answer without even knowing what he was saying.

It set Renée's thoughts spinning.

'Splendid? What is? Why? All of a sudden?'

Calling it splendid when she asked whether it was too revealing... Didn't that make his intentions seem somehow impure?

Renée's body grew hot.

Her skin was now so thoroughly crimson that drunken dwarves in the mountain ranges at the northernmost edge of the continent might hail her as kin.

"... B-but I'm still the Saintess. Won't people think it's indecent for me to wear something this revealing?"

Redder and redder, her brain cooked by the heat, Renée voiced her worry. Bera's eyes flew open.

Only then had something occurred to him.

'The nobles.'

They were almost at the ballroom now. The nobles would be inside.

Those insolent creatures would see Renée's outfit.

The back of his neck went taut. Anger surged within him.

Bera stopped about twenty paces short of the ballroom entrance.

"... Bera?"

"One moment."

Bera released her hand and removed his suit jacket, then draped it over her shoulders.

Naturally, doing so gave him a much more direct view of her appearance than before.

He had to avert his gaze, look at the ceiling or empty space somewhere.

... Yet even as he thought that, his eyes, utterly incapable of grasping the situation, took in every bit of her outfit and exposed skin. Below her collarbone, on the upper part of her chest, was a mole.

Only after engraving all of it into his memory did Bera squeeze his eyes shut and speak.

"... The weather is still cold."

Utter nonsense came out of his mouth. The ball was being held indoors, where it was warm.

Fortunately, however, Renée gladly accepted that nonsensical excuse.

"Thank you."

A small laugh escaped her lips. She was beginning to feel at ease.

The person who needed to see had already seen everything, so she could cover up now.

That sentiment could be called the basis of what she was feeling.

Looking at Renée, who was finally a little less indecent, Bera noticed that her wavy white hair had been trapped beneath the jacket when he draped it over her. He reached out.

"Excuse me."

His hand slipped behind her neck, sending a tingling sensation down Renée's spine.

With a soft rustle, Bera drew her hair out from beneath the jacket.

Like rolling waves, her white hair cascaded over the black fabric.

Renée felt Bera's rough hand against her neck; Bera felt the heat of Renée's neck against his hand.

At the same moment, both felt their hearts being squeezed.

"... I believe we can go in now."

"... Yes."

As though nothing had happened, they stood side by side as before and resumed walking.

They rounded the corner toward the ballroom entrance.

The attendant guarding it widened his eyes the moment he saw them, bowed his head, and opened the doors.

Music, voices, and countless footsteps spilled out from within.