By Zephyria 
March, the third Tuesday.
Of what I had practiced and learned in the last lesson, I remembered two-thirds and forgot one-third. I felt utterly pathetic, my gaze cast down, fanning myself as Poplar Kiadris looked at me as if I were a pitiful sight.
The movements I was learning today were particularly difficult, as they involved many signals conveyed not just through hands and fans, but also through movements of the shoulders and fingertips. Sierren women often wore dresses that exposed their shoulders. I felt quite displeased, wondering if I really had to scrutinize shoulders and fingertips so closely.
“…Her Majesty the Empress Dowager wouldn’t signal me by flicking her shoulder.”
“She wouldn’t do it directly. But there are the Maidservants, aren’t there? They could inform you beforehand, perhaps saying, ‘Her Majesty is not in a good mood today, so it would be best if you withdraw.’ If someone taps your left shoulder with their fingertips from behind Her Majesty, it means that.”
“Ah.”
“Lord Ernhardt is young and handsome, so he receives bonus points in many ways. What could be more regrettable and foolish than failing to recognize the pure goodwill offered by those around you?”
Aren’t you doing that very regrettable and foolish thing yourself?
“What are you looking at?”
“…No, nothing. Do men also send signals in the same way?”
“Of course. This is like basic grammar. If you don’t learn it, you could be foolishly ridiculed among people who pick fights with a smile, so you must learn it…”
Poplar Kiadris trailed off, her words becoming indistinct.
“…Though not many people would do that to Lord Ernhardt.”
I had wished for this woman to find a friend who was not self-serving. Perhaps it was because of what Hestia Yeldidus had told me just the day before, but her troubled expression caught my eye.
I asked as gently and sweetly as possible, “How have you been lately?”
“If you don’t want to take the class, just say so. I’m leaving.”
“No, wait. Let’s continue.”
…I should probably ask Marianne about this separately.
While I tried to speak kindly to Hestia, I had to admit that Poplar Kiadris wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. Fulfilling Hestia’s request would require more effort.
Perhaps as a reward for the confusing lesson?
As soon as the class ended, Ruben called me.
I was excited, thinking he had enough free time to have lunch with me today, and went to where he called me. Ruben was in the dressing room. Even though he knew I wasn’t sensitive to the cold, I was quite puzzled by his actions of taking out various clothes, including a jacket, and holding them up against my body.
Changing clothes wasn’t a difficult task, so I put on whatever he handed me and came out.
There were fine wrinkles on either side of the buttons of the soft cream-colored shirt. They were too close to the body to be called frills, and they had no openings to be called lace.
Apart from a portion of the front placket, the lines were neat and straight, much like other shirts. When I put on the deep blue vest embroidered with vine patterns in silver thread, it looked as if I were simply wearing a fancy cravat.
I put on trousers that matched the darkest color of the vest and a long-tailed coat, and wore shoes with flat, sharp toes. The clothes fit more snugly around my forearms and waist than what I usually wore, making me look as if I had deliberately styled my hair to be slightly disheveled, even without any particular styling.
As I stood there, Ruben’s eyes sparkled as if they held several morning stars. Feeling inexplicably shy and embarrassed, I fiddled with the shirt button just below my Adam’s apple, rechecking how much room there was.
“…Ah. This is good.”
“Do you like it?”
“Yes. It suits you so well. Especially the line of the collar here…”
Ruben, about to say more, unbuttoned and rebuttoned my coat. I stood still as he did so, and then he hugged me as if I were a cushion. He did something cute all of a sudden. I hooked my hands around his waist from behind, pulled him closer, and playfully swayed. The giggling child peeked his head up and pouted for a kiss.
I gave him a brief kiss and asked again, “Is today a day off?”
“No, it’s not. I received a reply to the letter I sent last week this morning.”
“Letter?”
“Yes. I told you about Walter Orgen last time, didn’t I? I took the opportunity to request an Academy visit permit in advance. I received the permit yesterday, but it was late to ask the professors if they had time, so I only got their permission this morning.”
“The professors…? Professor Calypse?”
“Yes. And I’m also going to see Professor Maelo Sanson. To ask him to officiate our wedding.”
Ah.
My eyes widened.
I had long decided that Ruben and I would have our wedding according to his wishes. The officiant and the ceremony itself weren’t particularly important to me; I felt it was enough if my family was there to clap. I figured he must have his own plans, but there was a bigger reason.
Wouldn’t the Emperor’s wedding be a state event?
It was only proper to seat and arrange people according to political interests. I had heard that besides Maelo Sanson and myself, there was one other Martial artist of Hwagyeong in this Empire. What benefit would it bring Ruben to have Maelo Sanson, who spent his time training successors and paid no mind to politics, officiate?
He must have brought it up with me in mind. Even knowing that, I was grateful, and while grateful, I was also puzzled.
“Is that alright?”
“Yes. He’s a significant symbol in many ways. He’s also one of the only three Grand Sword Masters in the current Empire. And most importantly…”
Ruben nuzzled my chin with his lips and whispered softly, “Because you like it so much.”
“…That’s… No, you didn’t even hint at something like this…”
“I guess I wanted to see you surprised like this… Do you like it that much?”
Yes, I was grinning widely right now. My mouth was open, unable to close from sheer excitement.
“…Yes.”
Of course, Maelo Sanson was a good person.
He was a true mentor. A righteous man worthy of respect. His teachings had saved my life countless times, and I had relied on him in my heart, living with his support.
But was this burning passion I felt now a result of my mentor’s virtue?
It was Ruben’s attitude, embracing and cherishing everyone he thought of with the hope and desire for my happiness, that made my heart flutter.
He watched my expression with the proud look of a cat that had caught a mouse, and I looked again at his clear face, which gazed up at me, gently holding me so as not to wrinkle my clothes.
How did I come to receive such great fortune?
Words like beautiful or lovely paled in comparison when spoken before Ruben. I bit his cheek, finding his puffed-up cheeks, flushed with laughter, so cute and endearing. Ruben laughed breathlessly at my playful nips, which were soft kisses without bared teeth.
I kissed his cheek, then his chin, his ear, and finally his lower lip.
“…Is it a done deal?”
“I just need to formally ask today. It’s polite to speak of such things in person.”
“Ah.”
“You say it, Mika. That would be more meaningful to Professor Sanson.”
“Yes, I will.”
We gazed at each other for a long time. He grinned, his sharp eyes crinkling, and wrapped his arms around my neck, pulling me close. I willingly let myself be drawn in and explored the inside of Ruben’s narrow mouth with my tongue. Though I had taken off the coat I was wearing because my body was heating up, I didn’t do anything that would wrinkle my clothes.
Ruben and I were the same.
❖ ❖ ❖
Just as my relatives did when they saw me return alive, Maelo Sanson, upon seeing me, couldn’t contain his emotions and rushed forward to embrace me tightly.
When I was a small child, he had seemed so tall and imposing. Now, he was about the same height and build as me, and holding him felt like a wrestling match.
I stood firm against Sanson’s embrace, not yielding to his strength, and patted my mentor’s back.
“It’s been a while, Professor.”
“I always thought you’d do something big someday. I lived believing you would.”
“…You’re not crying, are you? I dressed up so nicely.”
“I’m not crying, you brat!”
I burst into laughter at the force with which he pushed my shoulder.
Maelo Sanson, after exchanging polite greetings with Ruben, who stood behind me, finally seated us. I sat on a sofa whose cushions were worn thin from use and looked around.
Even after nearly ten years, Professor Maelo Sanson’s office was unchanged.
The bewilderment, tension, and radiant joy I had felt upon entering this office for the first time resonated in my chest with a gentle rhythm.
In the center of the office, which was sparsely decorated with only a tapestry instead of a desk or bookshelves, sat a sofa and a table. The stands holding various well-used weapons seemed like a slice of the past brought before my eyes.
Even the strawberry juice from the Academy cafeteria, served instead of tea.
Wiping the condensation from the glass of the cold drink with my fingertip, I looked at my mentor’s face. His face was also filled with a smile, much like mine.
His gaze quickly swept over my body. Even after his eyes registered that I had reached a higher realm than him, his smile didn’t fade. I calmly accepted his gaze, full of pride and admiration.
Being like this, I felt like a thirteen-year-old child again. I deliberately cleared my throat and adopted a mature demeanor to ask, “How have you been?”
“I’ve been living as usual. Your life is so famous, I couldn’t possibly not know. They say you defeated a Dragon and saved the world. Is it true that you finally defeated the Ninth God? That little one went alone…”
“It’s a bit exaggerated. Spiritus said that to boost me up.”
“You truly haven’t changed. You’re so humble, even about strange things.”
I smiled again at his chiding tone, which sounded genuinely exasperated.
Maelo Sanson had apparently become a grandfather recently. I learned at this meeting that he had three sons and two daughters, and that his eldest daughter was two years older than Ruben.
Though he was still very robust as a Martial artist of Hwagyeong, white hairs had appeared here and there among his golden hair.
Laughter filled the air as he recounted memories.