Sio Lieselotte sat down before the piano and began to move his fingers slowly, without a word of explanation. It was an unhurried motion, entirely free of any apparent deliberation. The professor, who had been watching with a detached expression, stared at Sio Lieselotte with growing astonishment as the notes continued. The same was true of me and the other students.

The piece he was playing was a music unlike anything any of us had heard before. What was even more startling was that the piece he was performing contained all twenty-four chords we had learned that day. In the brief time between the professor giving the assignment and this moment, he had taken all twenty-four chords learned only hours before and shaped them into a single piece. An absolute genius beyond all reach. That was what he possessed.

Even after the music ended, the professor said nothing. Neither did the students. In that silent atmosphere, Sio Lieselotte calmly returned to his seat, gathered his things, walked out of the lecture room, and never came to harmony theory class again. It was the moment I lost the music I had once believed was mine.

Sio Lieselotte was neither a mere imitator nor a vulgar musician. He was, in fact, singular. Sio Lieselotte was a genius capable of instinctively absorbing theories that no one else in that room had yet understood and composing a piece from them on the spot, and a genius of that kind would not come again in the next thousand years.

“A bouquet for a man. Not exactly a fitting combination. I’ll give it to you.”

The young genius who had taken my music from me that day and the Sio Lieselotte now standing before me holding a bouquet overlapped in my mind. Sio had drawn close to where Danyu and I stood and was extending his hand, offering the bouquet to her.

“Why.”

I glanced sideways at Danyu and found her looking at the bouquet held out before her with an expression that was oddly pinched. She had been keeping her lips pressed firmly shut for some time before she finally spoke.

“Why is it your left hand?”

But what came from her lips was something I had not expected at all. Not why are you giving it to me, but why is it your left hand. Danyu paid no attention to my bewildered face and kept her eyes on the bouquet, or more precisely, on Sio’s hand.

“You’re right-handed. Everything you do, you do with your right hand. So why are you using your left hand right now?”

Only then did it register that the hand Sio had extended with the bouquet was his left. His right hand was tucked neatly into the pocket of a coat unsuited to the season. As Danyu said, Sio Lieselotte was unmistakably right-handed, and he was so unaccustomed to using his left that he could barely hold a pen with it properly. Why, then, had he deliberately picked up the bouquet with his left hand? A grim premonition passed through my mind.

“Don’t tell me you never healed it. Is that what this is?”

The dark premonition that had been drifting through my thoughts came out of Danyu’s mouth. Sio did not react with any great agitation, and instead let his gaze drift toward the people watching us.

“There are quite a few eyes on us here. The celebration seems to be over anyway, so why don’t we move somewhere else?”

“Come to my room.”

At Sio’s suggestion, Danyu started walking without a moment’s hesitation. I watched her for a moment, then turned back to Sio, and found him looking at me with a flat expression. There was a vague displeasure in his face, and I furrowed my brow slightly, at which Sio gave a crooked smile and held out the bouquet in his hand.

“What? Is it the bouquet? Should I give it to you instead?”

You have returned, and I am anxious that I may lose again the person I believed was mine, and I am afraid that the music of yours I dared to admire may disappear. And that is all you have to say to me. Something surged in my chest. I snatched the bouquet roughly from his hand and pressed him.

“Did you really not heal it? I heard you have the Jubilion key.”

“Let’s get out of sight first. The stares are getting to be a bit much.”

Sio patted my shoulder with the same composed expression as ever, then turned and followed after Danyu, who had already disappeared. I stared blankly at his retreating figure, then let out a breath and had no choice but to follow.

Sio’s feet moved toward Danyu’s room with the ease of someone who knew the way. He passed through the garden and into the estate, then climbed the stairs without hesitation and made his way along the corridor toward his destination. What that ease communicated was unmistakably clear. He had visited Danyu’s room before, more than once.

I knew it was only natural. He had been her teacher for eight long years, and most of their lessons had taken place at the Astrid estate. Over the course of that enormous span of time, it was not at all strange that he had visited Danyu’s room once, or more than once. Danyu had been a girl rather than a woman in those days, and Sio would not have gone to her room with any improper intentions toward a Danyu like that.

And yet the mere fact that Sio Lieselotte had existed within her space made something ache in me. To feel this unsettled by a past event that she had no control over. This was a deeply petty jealousy. I knew that, and still I could not quiet it, because no one understood better than I did what Sio Lieselotte was to her.

Sio Lieselotte was a scar left in every corner of her childhood. No matter what was done, a wound cut that deep could not be erased, and so the day he was gone from her would never come. And yet knowing all of that, I had come to love her, and I longed desperately to remain by her side. What I feared was that Sio Lieselotte’s instability would take away the gentle person she was.

Sio’s right hand, as he walked ahead, was still hidden inside his coat. Danyu had given up even the chance to meet a god in order to protect that hand. His hand held that much meaning for her. It was an unworthy thought for a friend, but I found myself hoping his hand had healed not for his sake, but for hers.

I had been watching his concealed right hand, and my gaze drifted to the left hand now visible. An empty hand with nothing in it. What was different from before was easy enough to notice.

“The ring is gone.”

I pointed it out lightly, in passing, and Sio raised his left hand to look at the place where the ring had been, then gave a small shrug.

“Ah. I heard Ilse’s inheritance matter was settled. I participated in the Jubilion, and Ilse secured her inheritance. We each finished what we set out to do, so now we go our separate ways.”

It was a very matter-of-fact explanation. It was something I had already known, in truth, but somewhere in the back of my mind had been the thought that the two of them might simply go ahead and marry. Perhaps that had been less a thought than a wish of mine.

It was not an entirely groundless wish, either. Ilse had been looking for a man among those who sought her money who might be different from the rest, and Sio had said more than once that he could see himself marrying a woman who would not interfere with his way of living. The two of them suited each other’s conditions rather well.

“I thought you might end up marrying Ilse. Given the way you two are.”

“If there’s no one in particular, it wouldn’t be a bad choice, but.”

Sio trailed off in an odd way and furrowed his brow. He looked frustrated, as though he himself could not find the reason he had stopped. After thinking over his answer for some time, Sio gave up searching for it and turned the question back on me.

“Well, setting that aside. What about you? Why haven’t I heard anything from your end? People from noble families tend to marry early. Your mother can’t exactly be sitting still.”

It was a question that hit the mark. Sio was, in truth, among all the people around me, the one who knew my mother’s habits best. It had not been by my intention but through a few chance encounters that it had come to be that way, and I was not particularly pleased about it. It was the fault of my own youthful pride, not wanting to show even the smallest weakness to Sio Lieselotte.

“I’ll get to it soon enough. But I think I’ll wait a little longer for now. Miss Danyu is still young.”

“Danyu?”

It was not Sio’s fault, but my mood had soured for no good reason, and I had spoken in a flat voice, and he blinked in surprise.

“Yes. I am seeing Miss Danyu. With marriage in mind.”

I stated the fact plainly once more. In truth it was not something a man who had not yet properly proposed to her had any standing to say, but I felt I could not bear it without confirming in some way that her heart was with me. In that sense, these words were less a declaration to another person than a vow made to myself.

“Ah. So that’s how it was. Things turned out that way…… I see. Well. If it’s you, you could certainly become the kind of man for the Astrid name that Lady Astrid would be satisfied with.”

The voice was low and close to a murmur, almost as though speaking to himself. Sio’s face had gone strangely blank. He rambled in a way unlike himself, ran a hand through his own hair, then nodded to himself and touched his jaw. I walked alongside Sio as he sank into his own thoughts, and found my own mind needlessly tangled. It was because I had begun to wonder whether the reason Sio was reacting this way might be the very thing I least wanted to imagine.