Chapter 42
The land closest to winter—Flogel territory. Even here, spring arrives by April.
The territory’s residents are buzzing with excitement as they prepare for the festival. Decorations line the main street, flower pots bloom with vibrant colors…
But the ducal estate remains gloomy as ever.
“Does the ducal house have nothing to do?”
“Nope.”
Benen answered firmly.
Wait, isn’t this a local event? Shouldn’t the lord’s family be busy? Supervising stalls, managing security during the festival, organizing events and all that!
But if I brought that up in front of my older brothers, I’d seem way too suspicious for a ten-year-old. What should I do?
Just then, Benen spoke as if he could see right through me.
“You’re overthinking things again, aren’t you?”
“…Yes.”
“You just enjoy yourself. Most of the event is managed by the guild, and Father oversees the meetings anyway.”
“What will you all be doing then? I’m not getting in the way, am I?”
“Don’t worry! I’m actually happy to finally go out for once.”
…Really?
I recalled something Linda had told me. On the final night of the festival, there’s a tradition where they burn straw used over the winter as a finale—and it used to be led by the lady of Flogel.
…Meaning, Benen’s mother.
If she had played that role, Benen surely would have participated in the event as well.
Iren passed away around ten years ago, so Elver probably has very few memories of her.
But for Benen, something related to his mother might still be a deep wound. If he joins the festival…
“Sol, spacing out again?”
Suddenly, Benen thrust his face close to mine.
“Eek! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
His lips curled into a smile, close enough that I could feel his breath.
“Hm, is that really what startled you? Or were you just caught thinking about something?”
“Ugh…”
“Be honest. How much do you know about the festival? You must’ve heard something from the maids.”
“…Well…”
In the end, I told him what Linda had shared. The festival begins with flowers and ends with wish-bearing flames, and Iren Schlaeger likely played a role in that finale.
…And as I mentioned her name, my face probably turned somber. Because Benen’s lips twisted in a way that mirrored my own expression.
Before I could comfort him, Benen placed his hand gently on my head.
“It’s okay. …Actually, no. Honestly, it’s not.”
“…”
“She passed when I was little, so I don’t have many memories. But I do remember the good parts—like her hugs and her singing.”
Songs I’ll never hear again. Arms I’ll never return to.
“Maybe, if I stand in the plaza that day, I’ll miss her a lot…”
“…”
“But… truth is, I’ve always wanted to go to the festival.”
“What?”
“It just looks fun, you know?”
Benen at a festival? That’s not something I ever imagined. I always thought he’d be the type of cunning villain to say, “Ha! The fools are being noisy again this year,” and slam the window shut.
“You’re making that ‘doesn’t suit you’ face.”
“Ugh.”
“Try denying it at least. Anyway, after Mother passed, I couldn’t bring myself to say I wanted to go. Father became scarier, and my older brother grew harsher.”
“Ah…”
“By the time I was old enough to go on my own, there was another issue.”
“What was it?”
“My pride.”
“…Huh?”
“It feels childish to say I like festivals…”
Benen’s face turned slightly red. It was adorable—but also infuriating!
“What do you mean ‘only kids like festivals’! I like them too!”
“Because you’re a kid!”
“I’m practically an adult!”
“That’s exactly what kids say!”
Grab.
Benen took my hand tightly.
“Your duty is to enjoy the festival to the fullest and drag me around. Got it?”
“…I’ll do my best.”
“Good.”
Looking pleased, Benen checked the hallway to make sure no one was around, then whispered something in my ear.
“Let’s dance together on the night of the festival. Okay?”
“Is that part of the doting-brother concept too?”
“…Let’s say it is.”
“I feel like Father would say doting on me takes priority over everything else.”
“No way. There’s no chance he’d dance in public.”
Benen shook his head firmly.
“Before I ran away, my older brother said even when Mother asked him to dance, he’d hesitate a long time before reluctantly agreeing. He probably hated it deep down.”
That sounds like a classic tsundere. But whatever Father’s attitude—
“What about you, Benen? Are you secretly dreading dancing with me too?”
“…”
He looked like I’d just smacked him—but then he smiled and squeezed my hand again.
“No. Deep down, I’ll be super, super, super happy.”
* * *
Benen didn’t stop there. He followed me around saying things like:
“I’ve cleared my entire schedule for that night. You’re dancing with me at the festival finale, little one. Got it?”
Even Duke Schlaeger must’ve overheard that in the hallway—he passed by frowning slightly, perhaps confirming the rumor that he hates dancing.
Still, it was enough pressure just having Benen follow me around. Thank goodness that giant man didn’t tag along too.
But I still had Elver to deal with.
“Sol, it’s not like I want to dance with you at the festival or anything!”
“…Not like you want to?”
“As your brother, I should—no, never mind! You’ll look good dancing no matter what!”
“…Thanks.”
Elver enjoyed being a tsundere… for a moment. But it turned out that sticking to the bit made asking for a dance way harder.
Still, I couldn’t just leave Schlaeger’s last bit of conscience—Elver—all alone.
So I whispered in his ear.
“Elver, if you want to dance with me, say this to me that night.”
“What?”
‘“It’s not like I wanted to dance, but your neck must hurt from looking up at Benen all night, so I’m here to balance things out.”’
“…”
“Not bad, right?”
Benen and Father are both way taller than me. My neck aches just talking to them. Right now, Elver is just the right height.
…But I must’ve hurt his pride. He protested loudly.
“Not fair. It’s not like I chose to be the youngest!”
“Ah… I—I’m sorry!”
I realized too late I’d misspoken.
Elver puffed up his cheeks, took a step back, and declared:
“Just wait, Sol! I’ll make sure you have to accept my dance invitation out of guilt!”
Even when angry, Schlaeger’s only conscience stayed true.
Ugh… now who do I dance with first? Usually age order is easiest, but…
Elver’s words—“It’s not like I chose to be the youngest”—still echoed in my ears.
…Should I make them play rock-paper-scissors?
As I pondered that very useless question, someone entered the room.
“Ah, Linda!”
“Young Master Elver stormed off. Did something happen?”
“I said something I shouldn’t have. I’ll apologize later.”
“…Hm. Is there anything I can do to help?”
It didn’t sound like idle curiosity. Her expression was serious, like she really would help if it were something hard.
I shook my head.
“I’ll be fine. But what brings you here? The room was cleaned this morning.”
“Hehe, cleaning isn’t the issue. Do you have a moment?”
“Huh? Well, classes are over for the day, so…”
Linda smiled and opened the door—revealing a group of women entering in a rush. I didn’t recognize their faces, but I could guess their profession. They were all holding bundles of shimmering fabric.
The middle-aged woman in front gave a small nod.
The extravagant earrings on her ears jingled lightly.
“Hello. I’m Madam Reshti, a dressmaker from Albion, here by order of His Grace.”
Albion? That’s the capital city where the <99th Rank> takes place!
“Oh! Hello! That’s a long way to come!”
“A summons from His Grace must be answered—even if I had to walk. Of course, he also requested only the finest materials, so I came with five carriages.”
Five carriages? Even catering services aren’t that extravagant!
Linda said, “Please take good care of her,” and left. Soon the assistants swarmed me.
“May we begin, my lady?”
“Uh, sure.”
The moment I answered, they stripped off my clothes.
“Eeek!”
“Arms up, please. We’ll measure your size.”
“A-arms up!”
Three women got to work, efficiently measuring my every inch. I felt like a cabbage at a family house—surrounded and handled with expert care.
Once done, they held fabric after fabric to my chin like seasoning between cabbage leaves.
“Such lovely honey-colored eyes. Warm tones will suit you well. Frills or ribbons?”
“Uh, I prefer ribbons—”
“No need to answer. We’ll make four of each.”
“…Right.”
Bossy people exist in every era.
Still, she clearly took pride in her work.
“I’ll incorporate the trends of today and the future—so you won’t need another seamstress for three years.”
“Thank you…”
“But what we really need now is a dance dress. What kind of event will it be? A capital ball? A banquet at the ducal estate?”
“Oh, I’ll be dancing at the Flogel spring festival.”
“…Excuse me?”
Madam Reshti’s hand froze on the paper.
“That’s a festival for commoners, isn’t it?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Not exactly! But His Grace said it was very important. The common people wouldn’t even appreciate a dress like this…”
My excitement over getting a custom dress vanished instantly.
Seriously? Another snobby Madam Gracia?
Let’s be patient. Maybe she’s just tense from the trip.
“But I can appreciate your beautiful work!”
“….”
She gave me a cold once-over. Yikes.
My expression must’ve soured, because one assistant whispered urgently.
“Madam, please be careful what you say. What if someone hears?”
“Is there a problem? This young lady must know her own taste is sorely lacking. An artist deserves an audience that matches their work…”
Oh, sure. Famous designers want to choose their clients.
But you’re the one who raced over here with five carriages. Don’t complain in front of me now!
Just as my irritation was about to boil over—
Knock knock.
Was that Linda?
Madam Reshti looked startled, but raised her chin confidently.
“A maid? We haven’t even started ye—”
“No. If you want a proper audience, I figured I should come myself.”
…That voice from outside the door—
Was none other than Duke Schlaeger.
Madam Reshti’s face went pale.
