NOVEL NEXT 177- Berta is More Loyal Than I Thought.
My parents don't have any property in Solstar, so they're lodging at the Steel Falcon. When the coachman stops at the entrance, Berta guides me to an elegantly decorated room where the counts are seated upon matching cushioned settees, their fabric adorned with embroidered floral motifs. The candelabras, curtains, and paintings remind me a bit of the style I saw at the family mansion. The palace, however, was even more luxurious.
I feel a little awkward when I enter and see them, since I don't know exactly how the original Bianca would behave. However, the countess gets up from her seat and gives me a hug. It's neither very long nor very warm, but it's a hug. Considering that Berta told me she was the maid whom Bianca regarded as a mother, I wasn't expecting any show of affection from the countess. Could it be because of the months I've been away?
"Bianca, we're very proud of you," she tells me once she pulls away and indicates I should take a seat on another settee.
"You've improved so much with earth magic," the count states. "I never imagined you had that potential. You were always more about getting lost in books than practicing spells."
"Well, Father, I felt I should do it—not disappoint the hopes you've placed in me."
"Disappoint?" my mother interjects. "When the rector sent us the contract, we could hardly believe it. Berta already told us that, at the country house, you dedicated yourself to going to the forest to train instead of staying in the library reviewing for the theoretical exam. If your magic has improved so much, it was indeed a wise decision."
"Thank you. Aren't Elias and Edran coming?" I change the subject, though the thought of what we were just talking about still makes me a little uncomfortable.
I'd rather they draw their own conclusions about the personality change than start asking questions about how I managed to increase my earth affinity. Sure, that can happen in this world, but it's usually associated with intense life experiences.
"They wanted to come, especially Elias, who says he won't believe it until he sees you. But it's a formal ball. He's too young to attend, and your older brother stayed behind to oversee the county until we return."
"Give them my regards."
My mother gives me a strange look. I hold her gaze. While I'm at it, I notice she's wearing her brown hair in a very tight bun. Is she trying to stretch the skin on her face to hide the wrinkles and lack of elasticity typical of a woman her age? This isn't like on Earth: here, forty isn't the new twenty. There are no advanced cosmetics or plastic surgery. And if magic could do something about it, I imagine someone like the queen, who's at the top of the social pyramid, would look younger—which isn't the case.
"I will," she finally answers.
I guess giving regards wasn't something her daughter would have said a few months ago. Or maybe it's not even an expression from this world.
"You've changed," my father comments.
"A little..."
"Not that much," my mother downplays it. "I'm informed that you no longer keep company with Caroline and Ashe, but instead with the prince, princess, and their circle. Oh my, the mothers of Caroline and Ashe must be green with envy. Their daughters are making advantageous connections with the Duke of Vassilea's daughter, yet have made little progress toward securing suitable matches. At present, given your potential, it hardly makes sense for you to marry Marco. We wished to speak with you about this."
"Well, unless you're in love," the count interjects.
He seems to be a kinder parent than his wife. The day I met them, he struck me as the more compassionate one, and this confirms it.
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"No, maybe I felt something for Marco when I was younger, but that's no longer the case," I answer.
My father looks at me as if trying to discern the truth in my words. He's very serious, with his brow slightly furrowed, which makes his thick, gray eyebrows—matching his beard—even more prominent.
He must realize it's the pure truth, because he smiles and relaxes.
"Excellent," my mother says. "Though you know that marrying for love is a luxury for commoners. Yours with Marco was arranged, of course, and that you developed a fondness for him was merely an added bonus—one that could now have proved troublesome. I'm relieved to hear that is not the case, for both Theodore and Alistair hail from distinguished houses and would make excellent candidates for your hand."
A marquis's son and a duke's son... with a count's daughter... no wonder she sees it favorably.
But... has Berta told her anything about the prince and me?
When she finds out who I'm going to be engaged to, I hope I'm not around to see her reaction. She gave me a hug, sure, but so far the interest she has in me seems to be based on ambition more than affection.
"Don't worry, Mother. My intention is to break up with Marco discreetly tonight, and my new fiancé's parents will take care of compensating his family."
"Oh, so it is true? Are you playing your cards wisely? Are you at last taking to heart what I have endeavored to teach you?" Her eyes sparkled with delight.
"I don't think I've played any cards. It just happened."
"You haven't...?" She looks horrified.
"No, of course not," I cut her off sharply.
It wouldn't occur to me in this world that in many ways seems medieval. Honor intact, thank you very much.
"Bianca," my father tells me, "with your new potential, new doors are opening. I won't deny they can benefit us as your family, especially if you participate and win in the games in two and a half years. But it's also important that you be happy."
"That's absurd." The countess raises a single eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
Poor Bianca. I'm starting to think that, after all, a spy wasn't such a bad choice as a mother figure. Though I think I'm not being fair to the countess because arranged marriages for political reasons are what's expected of a marriageable young woman from a noble family.
I sigh.
We keep talking for a while longer, and then move to a private dining room to eat. The topic doesn't come up again. Instead, my father tells me about the county, what they've been doing these past months.
When the meal ends and I can say goodbye to return to the academy, I breathe a sigh of relief. I'm a bit tired of trying to resemble a Bianca I don't know.
As I'm leaving the inn with Berta, a young kitchen apprentice approaches us to give me a note. Apparently, Marco is staying here and arrived barely an hour ago. Well, there's no point in breaking up beforehand now, since that would mean going to the ball alone. Since he came all this way, at least let him enjoy part of the evening.
I thank the boy and give him a couple of coppers, and we leave the inn. The family carriage is waiting for me at the door. They must have told the coachman we were leaving.
Perfect. For my part, I'm looking forward to getting back to the academy. I'll meditate for a while in my room before getting ready for the ball. I don't need it for mana since I'm at full capacity, but I like the feeling that comes over me. That disconnecting, that escape from being myself, makes me feel much more centered for the rest of the day. And since I can't meditate at full mana, I will spend a few flashes beforehand—and this way I will also get some practice with the spell.
However, when I arrive at the academy, I find an unusual commotion.
The carriage drops us off at the entrance. Once on the grounds, as I start walking with Berta toward the main building, I notice there's an unusual crowd of students gathered there. They're not in the gardens between the buildings (where one might expect them), but here, on the wide driveway leading to the gate with the guards. This is quite wide, bordered by grass with large open areas on both sides, yet it's not a recreational space. Students from all three years are talking loudly, pointing to the right. I turn my head.
There's a giant scorpion from the dungeon—if I didn't notice it before, it's because I had just gotten out of the carriage, and half the academy was in an uproar right in front of me.
What is Darius doing with the scorpion? Did he get Ronan to let him ride it?
I look around for the necromancer, but I can't spot him.
When I get closer to the commotion, I can hear more clearly the voices expressing amazement both at seeing such an undead creature and at watching Darius ride it like a horse. And the redhead is grinning from ear to ear. He even waves at me when he sees me.
Fortunately, he doesn't stop the scorpion to come over, because I know that when he does, all these students—who I imagine have been gathering as word spreads—are going to surround him and bombard him with questions.
Ronan is smart, he's not here.
I do the same thing.
As I walk away, I can't help but smile. Darius was absolutely euphoric, infecting everyone with his enthusiasm.