Chapter 227
Black Footprints (2)
The gentle noise of the party was already audible beyond the wall.
It wasn’t overly restrained, nor was it raucous with clinking glasses and loud voices; it was just the right level of lively.
As Cecil headed toward the main gate, she stopped and blocked my path. She gently rubbed my cheeks with both hands.
“You’re still thinking about that letter, aren’t you?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“No, but it bothers me a lot too, so I figured it would be the same for you.”
“Why does it bother you so much?”
“I’m just curious. Who could it be? Seeing you so hung up, it feels like it’s a lost family member or… an old lover.”
“…Maybe.”
“In novels, it’s always someone like you who falls head over heels for a freckled, red-haired country girl milking cows and returns home without a word.”
“Someone like me?”
What does she think of me to imagine such scenarios?
Cecil leaned in closer, examining my facial expressions as if trying to read my mind.
“Hmm, isn’t it?”
“I think I’d be more at ease if it were something like that.”
Thinking hard about it here wouldn’t yield any answers, but I couldn’t help being concerned. An unknown entity watching me from some faraway place.
“Alright, let’s stop here. We’re almost there, so promise me one thing: only think about the letter until we pass through the gate.”
I felt a bit guilty toward Cecil. She must have been looking forward to this event. It would be disappointing if I couldn’t enjoy it because my mind was elsewhere.
“Okay.”
“Think only about Cecil after we pass the gate.”
“Let’s go.”
“Answer me. Answer.”
Seeing Cecil’s playful behavior made me smile unintentionally, which helped shift my focus.
“Alright, I promise.”
As we stood at the gate, two knights in full armor requested our invitations.
We showed the invitations we had prepared and passed through without any issues.
In the courtyard, the scene was quite different from a typical noble’s party.
Painters were sketching standing girls. A band was setting the mood. There were impromptu plays and even magical firework displays.
Some guests gathered with glasses in hand, engaging in passionate discussions about art theory.
“Why did you choose this party when there are so many others in Rigved?”
“This one is the most sophisticated. Plus, there’s talk that having good aesthetic sense can earn extra points in the magic academic competition, so I thought I’d learn a bit.”
Just then, a man in his thirties with a scheming beard called out to us.
“Cecilia!”
With a strong accent, he opened his arms wide and approached us.
Cecil whispered to me.
“Ah, be careful with that guy.”
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“Why?”
“He doesn’t really like women.”
“…Still, he seems to welcome you, doesn’t he?”
“No, it’s not that…”
“…?”
Cecil closed her eyes and said,
“Just pretend to be my boyfriend. Play along when needed.”
“…”
The man with the scheming beard reached out to shake hands with Cecil. His thin frame was accentuated by a tunic with rounded lines, adorned with dangling jewels on his wrists. His eyes had an exotic look. Now that I noticed, his eyebrows were thickly drawn, and he wore earrings.
“Oh, Cecilia! The golden greenstone of Eternia. The lady of July!”
Cecil forced a half-smile and replied,
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“As I mentioned before, it’s Cecil. Just Cecil.”
He looked at my face and mouthed a silent exclamation of admiration.
“It’s nice to meet you, stunning young man. What’s your name?”
“I’m Damian.”
“Ah, Burdis Yulabe.”
His gaze felt like it might ignite at any moment.
“Excuse me?”
“It means a sunflower grown under starlight. It’s meant just for you. Vishu! Cecilia! Where did you find such a damn vixen!”
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Cecil corrected him again amidst this exchange.
“Cecil, Cecil.”
“Oh, sorry, but Cecilia rolls off the tongue so much more smoothly.”
His vivid expressions and gestures were something even veteran actors wouldn’t dare imitate.
“Sorry for the late introduction. I’m Conte. You may not know, but playwriting is my main job, and trading is secondary.”
Cecil added an explanation for me.
“Everyone in Rigved would point to him as the best playwright.”
Conte feigned modesty.
“Oh, don’t say that.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. By the way, hasn’t Professor Antoni arrived yet?”
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“Oh, he’ll be here in an hour. Now, my lovely friends from Eternia, is there anything you’re curious about or want to know more?”
Cecil replied.
“Um, no.”
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“And you, Yulabe?”
“…”
He scrutinized me, looking me up and down, and asked in an inquisitive manner.
“Is this your first time at such an event?”
Oops, it was obvious I wasn’t used to the party atmosphere. Sharp eyes.
“Yes, it’s my first time. I didn’t know there were so many artists in Rigved.”
“Oh, not all of them. As you can see, there are patrons and critics who support artists mixed in.”
“I’m not familiar with art, so I’m worried if I can join their conversations.”
“Oh, oh, don’t worry.”
Conte waved his hands and looked around as if surveying the scene before leaning in closer to me.
“Don’t be fooled by the sophistic talk of the snobs. Valencia School. Claridyum Cubism, Petra’s imagery expression, they pretend to explore lofty, metaphysical art with incomprehensible words, but in truth, those snobs have only two lowly desires in their heads.”
“…?”
He leaned even closer.
“…Money and sex.”
Then he gave me a bright smile and winked.
Cecil, slightly flustered by the artist’s candid expression, started to speak.
“We… we’re not interested in such materialistic things. We’re just here to enjoy the art, and so are they.”
She pretended to be relaxed, flashing a serene smile.
Conte lightly tapped Cecil’s temple with his finger and spoke like he was teaching a child.
“Be careful, naive Yulabe. Those who say they aren’t interested or don’t need it are often the ones most obsessed. I’ve met plenty of such swindlers traveling for trade.”
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Hmm…
“Oh, no…”
Cecil fumbled like a broken spring toy. Her face turned beet red in an instant.
It’s not easy to tease Cecil with just words. I’ve never seen her so flustered before.
“See you around. Mushu!”
Satisfied, the man left hurriedly. He didn’t even give us a chance to explain, clearly enjoying his teasing.
After he left, a strange silence followed as if someone had poured water over us. Cecil tugged at my sleeve. She, who was usually unreserved in touching me, suddenly seemed as timid as Luna.
“It’s not true, you know?”
“Hmm?”
“It’s not true.”
Cecil stomped her feet a few times, trying to express her frustration.
“I get it.”
“You…”
“Artists… they’re no joke, right?”
“Haa… it’s unfair.”
Cecil turned her back to me and fanned her face to cool off. I also had to put on a brave face to hide my embarrassment. I felt just as awkward.
***
Cecil regained her composure only after finishing two glasses of wine.
I kept a watchful eye on her drinking habits while exploring the party venue.
A magician performing tricks in front of us created an illusion of roses.
Cecil subtly linked arms with me and waved to the magician.
“Rigved will have more attractions now.”
“Why?”
“Most of the artists here are from Claridyum. They’ve moved in groups, hosting gatherings to find new patrons.”
“Is there a major draw in Rigved?”
“Claridyum is the wealthiest and most advanced city in magic academia globally. Unless you’re a magic scholar, getting sponsorship is tough, and living costs are high.”
“They could have gone to the empire or elsewhere.”
“Rigved is relatively accepting of backgrounds. There’s consistent capital flow, wealthy nobles from various countries visit often, and there are fewer restrictions.”
“Well, it’s good for us.”
One thing you hear repeatedly in art club classes is:
Artists should go to big cities.
More people mean more money, and there’s a better chance of catching the eye of wealthy patrons who will invest in your work.
Rigved is a large city in its own right, but it’s not quite Claridyum. It rains a lot, and there’s frequent fog, making it not very pleasant. Moving one’s base isn’t an easy decision, so I wanted to hear why they chose to relocate.
Suddenly, Cecil looked up at me with clear eyes, touched by the atmosphere.
“This is nice. Better than the ball before.”
“Yeah.”
“…Let’s come here often.”
Cecil naturally promised a next time. I wondered if I should agree to so many promises, but I nodded as if under a spell.
“Sure.”
As we moved on to the next attraction, Cecil suddenly stopped. Her brows furrowed slightly, as if she saw a mouse rummaging through the trash.
“What’s he doing here?”
“Why?”
I followed her gaze. Hubert, dressed impeccably, raised his glass to us in greeting from afar—surrounded by noblewomen in revealing gowns, typical of his dwarf heritage.
Cecil’s speech became precise and clear. Seeing Hubert seemed to have snapped her out of it.
“Oh, please.”
He eventually broke away from the noblewomen and approached us.
Hubert tapped my shoulder in acknowledgment.
“You’re here?”
He offered a sly fist bump, but when I simply stared, he sheepishly withdrew his hand.
Then, as expected, he started teasing Cecil like before.
“You know, I thought so. After all that whining about only having Candy, you finally…”
“Shut up.”
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“Good job. There’s something about seeing people face to face.”
“Enough, enough.”
“You pretend to care about the inner self too…”
“Yeah! I just ditch those who don’t fit and hang out shamelessly with better ones!”
“I’m just cheering you on. Really.”
Their conversation felt like a short play. Both knew my identity but were speaking as if it wasn’t shared.
Amid this, the party suddenly became lively.
A group of people entered through the main door, causing everyone to gape and murmur. The same Conte who teased Cecil rushed to greet them.
“Misha! Antoni! Valentina! Sorry, I’m so glad to see you that I can’t remember the welcome speech.”
Five young girls walked in. Their robes were dragging on the floor, unfitting for a party. They seemed to have arrived in a rush, without time to change.
“It’s okay! We’ve seen plenty of people speechless at our beauty!”
“We missed you, uncle!”
The girls giggled.
Following them was an attendant with a brush and canvas. A hulking figure resembling a bodyguard tried to follow but was stopped by the doorman. Judging from their appearance and attendants, they didn’t seem to be artists or patrons. They must have been invited as celebrities based on their backgrounds or notoriety. Having such people around would increase the prestige of the event.
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Even in the eyes of someone like me, who had a high standard thanks to Silveryn, their confident words seemed somewhat justified.
Hubert watched the newcomers and muttered with determination.
“They’ve come as rumored.”
Cecil showed interest.
“Who? Do you know them?”
“Who else? They’re the ones we’ll face as opponents in the exchange competition. The golden generation of the Imperial Academy.”
Cecil responded indifferently.
“Hmm. If they’re truly a golden generation, wouldn’t they have come to Eternia?”
“Yeah, that’s the damn correct answer.”
Cecil checked her watch and entrusted her glass to me.
“Ah, Professor Antoni must have arrived. I have something to discuss with him, as requested by a professor. Damian, will you be okay here for a bit? Just… don’t do anything weird!”
“Go ahead.”
Cecil hurriedly entered the main building of the venue.
Once she was out of sight, Hubert downed his white wine and revealed his true nature.
“Ahh, listen up, buddy. The term ‘golden generation’ isn’t just about talent. If you have eyes, you’d… well, anyway.”
“…”
The girls from the empire were engaged in a conversation with Conte. Then Conte glanced our way, including hand gestures, speaking passionately. They seemed to be lightly introducing themselves, as they were of similar age and shared the academy background.
After the lively welcome, the girls began to blend into the party.
“Here’s your chance, buddy. Miss this, and the ancestors in hell will scold you.”
“What chance?”
“Will you keep our endless potential tied to just Eternia? Seriously? Dating only girls from our school is the worst. And peers are even worse. If relationships sour, how will you survive four hellish years constantly running into them in the dining hall, classroom, dormitory, everywhere?”
“Weren’t you seeing that senior before?”
I remembered. This guy was clinging to a female senior like a lover during the ball.
“No, to be precise, there’s a hot feeling, but we’re still just good juniors and seniors, like you and Cecil, you and Luna, you and Sion…”
“Shut up.”
Damn, this guy and his big mouth.
“And buddy, seniors have different schedules and graduate first, so they’re way better than peers. You’re in big trouble. Well, it’s still better than messing with a professor.”
Now, I could feel a headache coming on.
“So what do you want to do?”
Hubert placed a silver coin in the empty glass.
“I’ll charm her. I’ll bet a silver coin that I’ll get that imperial girl’s stitch marker.”
“You’ll get struck by lightning.”
“Buddy, this is just a game. We’re not getting all cozy or taking lifelong responsibility. It’s about exchanging stitches with pure intentions. She’s probably seeking attention too. If you take life too seriously, you’ll suffocate someday.”
I took out a silver coin and placed it in his glass to accept the bet. I wanted to send him off somewhere quickly.
“Alright, I’ll bet one on ‘you won’t get it.’ Go and do your best.”
Do as you please. I’m not responsible for your actions.
Hubert finally cracked a sly smile.
“In the memoirs of the great poet Almus, there’s a maxim: any woman over twenty with pigtails was crazy.”
“…”
“I’m embarking on a great adventure to charm a woman on the brink of madness.”
Hubert proclaimed with a theatrical tone, like an actor on stage.
“Raise the anchor, lads.”
Then he headed off, imitating the sound of a ship’s horn as he went. The strong scent of wine lingered in the air where he had been.
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End of Chapter