Third Arc: Twenty-Third Chapter

"Lady Remie... ah!"

Running in a hurry, I caught my foot on a small step and stumbled. This... I'm going down! But just as I braced to fall flat on my face in the middle of the crowd, an arm caught me firmly with perfect timing and scooped me up.

"Ha ha! It's dangerous to rush about like that, you know?"

"Th-thank you... wait, Michael?"

Shrinking with embarrassment, I turned my face, and there, closer than I had expected, was Michael's handsome face.

"S-so close!"

"One moment you make inventions no one else would dream of, the next you're running like a child and nearly falling. You never do get boring, do you."

Do try to have a little more composure, he said, setting me down and fixing my hair, and I was riveted to him.

What is this, who is this.

As if his usual ridiculous getup had been a lie, Michael was like an entirely different person. On his hair, still black and glossy even as it caught the sunlight, sat an elegant beret studded with jewels, and clothes of plainly fine quality, like a black military uniform, set off his well-balanced figure. From weighty, jeweled epaulettes hung golden cords, and the lavish cloak covering his back was deep-purple velvet finely embroidered in gold thread. Lined with sable fur, it was a piece so splendid it drew a sigh.

Clad in that beautiful, valiant costume, Michael bent his tall frame to peer down at me. Gazed at by black eyes that twinkled like a starry sky, I caught my breath in spite of myself.

"M-Michael, you..."

"Hmm?"

"A-aren't you hot?!"

No. A fur cloak in this warm, spring-like weather could hardly be called sane. It couldn't, but that wasn't what I wanted to ask. There was too much I wanted to ask, and a blunt observation just slipped out.

"Ha ha! You're right, it really is unbearably hot! This cloak is clearly a winter thing, isn't it!"

"R-right. You'll get a heat rash. But today, unlike usual, you're in decent clothes. Or rather, that cloak of yours makes you look like a king, somehow..."

Michael, who had started laughing as if it were terribly funny, made his eyes flash at my words. I said it. Ahh, right now I'm just like a frog glared at by a snake. Ufufu! I have a very, very bad feeling about this!

Narrowing his eyes like a cat, Michael grinned and began to talk a mile a minute, enjoying who knows what.

"Aha! Bingo! I'm actually the king! Well, never mind that. How about these clothes? Honestly they're too plain for my taste, but they're fixed by custom, you see. For a family wedding and such, there's just no getting around it. Hot and stiff. My usual clothes are miles better! Oh, but of course I like the clothes you picked out for me too!"

"Don't worry. They're hundreds of millions of times nicer than your usual clothes. Enough that I wish your favorite clothes would burn up, closet and all. ...No! Wait a moment! What did you just say?!"

"...That I like the clothes you picked out best?"

"No! Before that! K-king? Family? and so on."

My bad feeling seemed to have come true. Memories of tearing his outfits to shreds, then treating him like a dress-up doll, and making him carry my shopping, flashed before my eyes like a dying man's lantern. The words that came to mind were not "poor value" but "lèse-majesté." At my teary eyes, Michael smiled meanly.

"Yep. Elliot is my little brother. Sorry for keeping quiet about it, hmm?"

"That's not the point..."

"Your Majesty the King!"

A voice rang out, cutting off my words as I was about to tear my hair out with a "Gwaaah!" The people who had gathered around us, watching, parted left and right, and who should appear but Elliot, with Lady Remie at his side. Lord Elliot?

"Your Majesty, that you should grace us with your presence today is a joy beyond this Elliot's hopes. That my greeting comes so late, I most sincerely beg your pardon."

Despite his words, Elliot looked not the least bit sorry as he said it in a loud voice for those around to hear, then knelt before Michael in a subject's salute. Beside him, Lady Remie, whose already large eyes had gone wide, was, former or not, the daughter of a ducal house. With flawless grace, as if her surprise had been an illusion, she knelt and curtsied elegantly. But I could tell. Under those beautifully spread skirt frills, she was most likely grinding her heel down onto Elliot's foot.

"Ha! Demoted to a subject he may be, but this is a milestone in my dear little brother's life. There's no reason for me not to attend. Elliot, Lady Remie, I too shall give my blessing. Be as happy as you can manage."

"By my beloved elder brother, I swear it."

"We are deeply honored."

When the two bowed deeply, blessings and applause broke out from the guests surrounding us.

"Congratulations!"

"What splendid brotherly love! The future of the Cecil Trading Company is rock-solid!"

"After His Highness was cast down to subject status, I heard he hardly came home and had grown distant, but the rumors seem to be wrong."

"The bride is said to be from Altria. So he's secured a pipeline to Altria."

Plenty of words beyond simple wedding congratulations reached my ears, but it seemed Elliot's Cecil Trading Company was rising even higher in everyone's estimation, which was all to the good. Well, he had probably been aiming for that.

Still, Michael being the king. Ahh, I had a feeling this was going to become a terrible pain. Here, let me blend in with the guests around me and make a break for it. Luckily, I am a born background character. If anything, hanging about on the fringes is my heaven-sent calling. All right. Cosette, aged sixteen, hereby begins being the hanger-on of the villainess's hanger-on!

I'm a background character. I'm a background character. Erasing my presence as best I could, I edged backward little by little, trying to melt into the crowd. But how does one erase one's presence, exactly? I wish there were a presence switch or something.