Side Story 1.3

Cyril stared at the note handed to him. It took him a while to dig through his memory and recall what the rolled-up note was.

He asked, unable to hide his bewilderment, 

“You still have that?”

The answer was unexpected.

“It’s 132 silver coins.”

It was the betting slip from the underground gambling den, where he had wagered two silver coins on Sophie Tyrell and received his winnings. After handing it to the woman in the white mask to face Sophie, it had vanished from his memory. But… 132 silver coins? Cyril was briefly stunned by the amount, which had grown over sixty times in value. Regaining his senses, he asked again. The amount wasn’t the issue right now.

“You’re not trying to reconcile by giving that back to me, are you?”

“What do you take me for?”

Danielle tucked the betting slip back into her pocket and instead pulled out two wooden swords. Not one, but two. Cyril was utterly dumbfounded this time.

“You want to spar? Duel? Fight? Or is this a bet, now that you’ve brought out the betting slip?”

“…”

“Danielle…”

Cyril struggled to swallow the rebuke rising to his throat. The feelings of being hurt, resenting her, and loving her were all separate emotions. Yet, these emotions intertwined, tangling Cyril’s mind into chaos. He wondered how things were on Danielle’s side.

Danielle, who eventually forced a wooden sword into Cyril’s hand, took a deep breath and began to speak. Cyril didn’t miss the slight tremor in her voice as it emerged from her tightened throat.

“Cyril, I…”

“Danielle.”

“I don’t think I’ve fully come to my senses yet, so… hit me with that.”

“Danielle!”

Danielle, dressed confidently with her hair neatly tied up for training, avoided his gaze. She bit her lip tightly, then slowly lifted her eyes as if she had made up her mind. Cyril was rendered speechless when he saw the moisture of a different shade pooling in her deep green eyes.

“I… It’s not that I took you for granted. We just became what you might call an engaged couple, and… well…”

“Danielle.”

Danielle, who usually liked to ramble on without interruption—especially in front of other young ladies—had, for some time, become quieter only when dealing with Cyril. Both of them knew that this mutual lack of eloquence had contributed to the deterioration of their relationship.

“Enough. Pick up your sword. I won’t just let you hit me without a fight.”

But was this really the time to pick up a sword? 

Cyril could only halfway understand her true intentions. Despite her words about wanting him to “hit her,” Danielle attacked him with such ferocity that it seemed she was trying to beat him into submission. While he received both the apology and the inexplicable 132 silver coins, their relationship somehow felt even more brittle.

***

The spring banquet of the Odillon family remained the first event to herald the arrival of spring in the capital. Although they no longer held a birthday celebration for the youngest daughter, that same daughter was now fully grown and preparing for her wedding this autumn.

This year, the Queen, who was preparing for a royal wedding, attended the Odillon banquet with an extravagant gift, stirring up much talk. While it was said to be a gesture to console Danielle for the delay in her marriage caused by her, it might have also been the perfect occasion for her to loudly announce the end of her wild lifestyle.

Queen Cléran appeared at the banquet hall holding Felix Ingram’s hand. Counting back to her teenage years when she first debuted at a ball, it was the first time she had chosen someone other than one of her two brothers as her partner. ‘So that royal wedding wasn’t a joke, after all?’ Even with wedding preparations already well underway, such murmurs spread, a testament to the infamous reputation of Cléran Roigar.

When Her Majesty spotted Danielle and Cyril, she practically skipped over to them. Her light dress, ahead of the season, fluttered cheerfully. Felix gave a small nod of acknowledgment when their eyes met. The Queen, employing the privilege of royal bluntness, spoke without hesitation.

“Oh my, I heard you two had a fight.”

“We’ve reconciled, Your Majesty.”

Where do you even hear such things?

Danielle asked, exasperated.

Cléran widened her eyes as if hurt. 

“Didn’t I tell you, Danielle Odillon, that you could come to me anytime you had concerns? I heard about it too late and suffered greatly.”

The contents of her “suffering” were utterly superficial, cobbled together from rumors and embellished with chaotic literary flourishes. Apparently, their fight had caused such an icy atmosphere between the Royal Knights and the Investigation Bureau that spring simply refused to arrive. The Queen’s merciful arbitration court had endured a lonely winter, and the two had broken their vows of loyalty to work unharmed, ultimately resorting to swordplay among themselves…

“Your Majesty, please.”

The two exclaimed in unison, “Please,” and only then did the Queen seem somewhat appeased. She guided her royal fiancé Felix to prepare for a dance. The music, already in the middle of a lively waltz, played on. With a refreshingly bright expression, she offered her final words.

“Well, this isn’t the kind of place to vent frustrations. I’ll send a message later. Enjoy yourselves.”

Too drained to respond, the two simply bowed their heads. Cléran let out a hum through her nose before turning her attention to her betrothed.

“Give me a kiss, Felix.”

What? 

Ignoring the stunned expressions around her, Queen Cléran shamelessly tilted her cheek toward him and repeated her demand. Felix Ingram responded calmly and without hesitation.

“Are you serious?”

“Look at their faces. No one believes we’re on good terms. Hurry up.”

How could anyone believe it…

Danielle thought, recalling the expression on his face when he returned to the Mage Tower Headquarters after his dispatch. She shook her head slightly. 

On good terms.

She mused—something Danielle Odillon and Cyril Frey had been failing to achieve every single day for twelve years, even up to today. Glancing sideways, she caught Cyril’s eyes, only for him to hurriedly avert his gaze. Watching his eyes wander aimlessly through the air, unable to look at either her or the Queen, left a bitter taste in her mouth.

A man who couldn’t even get angry when he had every right to. And the woman who was always the cause of it. Standing side by side at this event, forced by half-hearted apologies, they both knew nothing had truly been resolved. Watching another pair of lovers who didn’t seem like lovers only made them feel more pathetic.

What happened next shocked everyone in the banquet hall. Felix Ingram grabbed the Queen’s chin, turned her face, and kissed her—not on the cheek, but on the lips.

***

The banquet, which had momentarily been in an uproar, resumed with an even livelier atmosphere. By then, Danielle had led Cyril to a terrace at the edge of the hall. Though it was early spring, the air was still chilly, making the outdoor terrace an unpopular spot. Danielle chose the most secluded corner, carefully drew the curtains, then turned to face Cyril. He felt a foreboding sense of unease.

When was the last time the two of them had walked out onto a terrace together? Despite attending several banquets together since agreeing to redefine their relationship, they hadn’t been out on a terrace once. The last time they had conversed on a terrace was last summer. And that, like the recent sudden sparring match, was far from a pleasant memory.

Cyril swallowed hard and asked, 

“Danielle. Is there something you want to say…?”

“Did you see Her Majesty’s expression earlier?”

The sight of Cléran Roigar’s earlier expression, one that could be described as nothing short of spectacularly inappropriate, was still fresh in his mind. Even Cyril had struggled to suppress his laughter at the time. Fortunately, the mix of jeers and cheers that erupted from all around had allowed them to slip away unnoticed. The ongoing waltz had turned into an unofficial celebration of the royal engagement.

Recalling that comedic scene brought a belated smile to his face. But as soon as he realized Danielle hadn’t brought up the Queen’s expression just to make him laugh, Cyril quickly suppressed his grin.

“I never expected Sir Felix to have such a side to him. But why…”

“Because I wanted to try it.”

“…Try what?”

The ominous premonition gradually revealed itself. Danielle shrugged her shoulders and pulled him by the hand.

“I’m not that bold. But I can do something like making everyone misunderstand if we’re on the terrace.”

Danielle said this without even smiling. Her gaze was resolute, as though she was challenging him to a duel again. Cyril felt sweat trickling down his back.

“Misunderstanding…?”

“Come here.”

Danielle led Cyril to a blind spot where the curtains, even when drawn, wouldn’t reveal them. Without warning, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Cyril, who hesitated for a moment, soon parted his lips and responded. It was their first kiss since they had parted ways after throwing down their wooden swords. Like a first kiss, it was awkward and clumsy as the two pressed their lips together.