Grand-Duchy of Bellevue.
Staring at the mirror, inspecting my reflection in it.
I, after mumbling for a moment, still hesitating, turned to the butler standing at my side, holding a plate atop which were four distinct neckties and a bottle of perfume, "How do you think it looks, Bernard? Do I even wear this properly?" I asked, referring to the necktie I was wearing, unconfidently.
"It is worn properly, and I think it suits you rather well, Lord Ronand."
"You think… Then I’ll settle for this one."
"As you wish, Sir."
Years have passed since I was last required to be so ceremoniously dressed, leaving me quite unconfident with my current appearance. But from Bernard the Butler’s words, despite the passing years, I still have the basics of how to properly wear a necktie.
So, full of confidence, I took the perfume, sprinkled a little on myself, and made my way to the room's exit.
When I opened the door, I was greeted by the sight of a fourteen-year-old boy dressed as fancifully as I was.
"Finally!" He dramatically sighed.
"Sorry for the wait, Jeff," I apologized to the boy.
"Seriously, what took you so long?"
Glancing at what I was wearing, I said, "Trying to find the outfit that would suit me the best, I suppose," rather jokingly.
"What’s that. It’s like I’m hearing my sister. Speaking of her, with how long it took you to get ready, I think it should be time to get to her. Let’s go before she pulls off a crisis," the boy suggested.
I followed him down the same corridor my room was in to reach a particular door guarded outside by two female attendants, who, upon noticing us, proceeded to notify the room owner of our arrival.
The room’s door was opened to us, but before we could make a step inside, someone bolted out, "What took you two so long?!" roaring at us.
"If you want to blame someone, blame Ronandt. I waited for him," the boy explained, passing the blame onto me.
The "someone" was a girl of no older age than 10. As a matter of fact, she just reached 10 as of today. Making today her birthday, which would explain her current outfit, a white, golden-incrusted fancy white dress.
Noting the girl's piercing stare, I said, "Sorry, Rebecca, your brother is right; if we’re late, it would be my fault."
Hearing my words, the girl’s mean expression suddenly shifted into a rather more tender one: "It’s nothing for Ronandt to apologize for. It’s not like I could be late to my own birthday anyway," she said, clinging to my arm.
The girl then sniffed my clothes like a little animal would upon smelling an interesting smell, then asked, "This smell, you used it, right? My gift."
"Yes, I thought, this could be the perfect opportunity."
The perfume I earlier sprinkled on myself was a gift I received a few weeks ago when I made mention of the fact that it has been some time since my birthday took place.
Having spent years in the wild, I'd grown to find perfume to be one of the things I had a hard time adjusting myself to upon my return to the continent.
Under normal circumstances, I would avoid reeking perfume in favor of sweet-smelling soaps, but feeling that the occasion was more than appropriate for it, I decided to use the one she'd gifted me.
"You used. You finally used it, I always thought you didn’t like it, which is why you never used it."
"No, that was never the case. It’s just that… Well, maybe you’re right. I should've used it sooner. Sorry if I gave the impression that I didn’t like your gift. I liked it very much."
"Ronandt…" She mumbled, getting even more clingy than she usually is, with a gaudy smile on her face.
"Ugh… Okay. Now behave yourself, you two, we still have a party to attend."
"You’re just jealous, say it," the girl said, sticking her tongue out at her brother.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever father, the others, and possibly Grandfather, must already be waiting for us. So we’d better hurry up."
Rebecca and I agreed with Jeff's words and followed him to the party organized in honor of Rebecca's tenth birthday.
As a door leading to the said party was opened for us, we were led to a large open terrace where hundreds of guests, mostly nobles, were partying. Nobles, who, upon noticing our arrival, erupted into applause.
The applause was neither for Jeff nor for me, but rather for the little girl we strode beside.
Despite being a commoner through and through, the little girl was applauded by all these nobles, for she, just like Jeff, and just like their father and grandfather, carried a family name that granted her such a privilege; that name was "Douglas."
***
Years ago, upon being denied the opportunity to make a proper entrance into noble society, I had, within reason, given up on the idea of one day making a public appearance like the one I just made. But who would have thought this could even be possible? Especially under these complicated times and circumstances.
"There, the man Father is talking with; that's the Lord Doriann Fluggel, a minister of the crown."
It has been almost a month since I, after being dispatched northward to deal with the "Thundersnow of the North," arrived here as a guest of the Douglas castle, here in the very heart of Altaira Kingdom, a place where, for the first time in my life, I got to experience the closest thing I ever got to a true noble lifestyle without the "living remotely far from the eye of most people" part.
When I was informed that I would be sent here, my first thought was that the Douglas family, whom I had already assumed had packed their belongings to hide in one of the aristocracy's hideouts, must have been in quite a dire situation, but I've come to learn after living among them for nearly a month that I was way off the mark.
This family, of which a member declared open war on the church two years ago, is doing pretty well.
As absurd as the situation was, without impunity, the Douglas family, even after Maa's bold announcement, continued to live among nobles, just like they've always done.
"There on the corner, the bearded fat man is rubbing his belly. That's Lord Renald Vermillion and his wife, Edvina Vermillion. Both are good friends and associates of our Douglas family," Jeff informed me as we stood in a quiet corner, but I couldn't help but notice the many scrutinizing gazes thrown at us, and quite disturbingly, especially at me.
Though I knew very well why those people were staring at me, it didn't make me feel any better. But still, I tried to look as natural as I could.
"There standing at the buffet, staring at Rebecca’s cake, that’s Lord Avilonne; he might not look like it, but he too is a minister of the crown. He’s also both a collaborator and an old friend of our family."
The man, as though knowing we made mention of his name, suddenly looked in our direction, prompting us to not appear disrespectful. With a light nod, we distantly greeted the man, to which he simply replied in kind before returning to his initial business.
It was then, as Jeff was pointing at me as to who was who within the party, that we were approached by Joffery Douglas, Jeff and Rebecca’s father, with a glass of soapy champagne.
"Who are you two doing, boys, exiling yourselves from the people like that?"
"Sorry, Uncle Joffery, it was me who insisted on this. I’m still not used to this many people," I explained.
Besides, I had one particular reason for remaining in retreat like I did: It was my identity.
While it was true that the premise of my presence here, which was to provide whatever assistance the Douglas family needed, didn't require me to hide myself in any way, if at all possible, I'd like to avoid having to scream into the city roof that I was the faceless one, the one who triggered the calamities and most of the cataclysms the continent has experienced in recent years.
Besides, this was Rebecca's birthday, an important day, and I would feel bad if I were to ruin it with just a reveal of my identity.
Among the guests, I noticed glances that knew my identity as the Faceless One, but thankfully most of the glances thrown at me seemed to be curious and clueless ones, simply intrigued by those particular eyes of mine.
"I see… that’s understandable."
"Besides, I was telling him who our guests were, Father."
"I... don't think Ronand cares about who they are, Son. Right, Ronandt?"
"Not at all, Uncle Joffery. I think it is important that I know who is who. This might prove useful in the future. Who knows? The future tends to be full of surprises."
"I see. That’s quite commendable."
"Say Father, isn’t Grandfather still here yet?"
Joffery shook his head.
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
"Will he make it here at least? Rebecca is impatiently waiting for him, as he promised her he would be here, despite how long he has been missing."
"If Father promised he would be here, then there’s no doubt he’ll be here today. Your old Grandfather might have many flaws, but breaking a promise made is not one of them."
Rebecca’s and Jeff’s grandfather.
Joffery father.
The head of the Douglas family and, with it, the Douglas conglomerate. Though I had already spent almost an entire month together with the Douglas family, I had yet to get the opportunity to personally meet with him. I was told he was always occupied with business, so I had to admit that when Joffery assured Jeff that he might come today, my heart swelled in anticipation as, as time passed, I became increasingly intrigued by that character.
"Now that I think of it," suddenly started Joffery, "since you were showing who Ronandt had to know within the party, I think there is someone we’d have to personally introduce Ronandt to."
"Who, Father?"
He drank his glass all at once and summoned a servant to take it away from him. "Follow me, you two. If she's here today, no doubt she's been sent to see the infamous "Faceless One," Joffery smiled, "and I believe it's our duty as respectable hosts to grant her that pleasure."
We made our way through the crowd to a remote corner of the large terrace, where several large white garden tea tables had been arranged across the garden-like terrace. Rebecca sat at one of the tea tables, which stood out because it was in the middle of the other tables, having a conversation with someone.
Rebecca was not sitting alone, but upon noticing us approaching, she stood up with a smile on her face and uttered, "Father, Ronand,..."
"I hope we didn't disrupt any of your conversation."
"Not at all, father," she said, her gaze fixed on me, "Ronandt, you came on point; the Princess and I were just talking about you."
"Oh…"
It was then that the blonde girl sitting across from Rebecca stood up from her seat to face us. Seeing her face upfront made me realize where exactly the princess part came from.
She had the red eyes of the ducal and royal families. I was tempted to say that she was the same age as Nia, but the fact that she was still around and hadn't yet been sent to the academy suggested that she wasn't yet fifteen, which meant that she was at best fourteen.
"Lord Jeff," she said, greeting him and holding out her hand to him. a hand, which Jeff gently accepted and kissed solemnly.
"I would like to voice my thanks to the princess for attending my daughter’s birthday, Princess. Your royal presence greatly honors our family."
"Don’t mention it, Lord Joffery; the pleasure is mine, as this little party is a perfect opportunity for me to see old faces and pretty new ones."
With how she eyed me when making that segment of her comment, it came across as obvious that by "new ones," she was, in fact, referring to me.
"Oh, the introduction... How clumsy of me?" lamented Joffery. "Princess, this is Ronandt."
With a glance thrown my way, Joffery suggested that I make my own introduction.
"This one is named Ronandt, just Ronandt. May Djeem the Accursed's mighty and everlasting blessing be upon us."
My introduction left a silence, which the princess broke with, "This one is named Tiara Caelus Altair. May the motherly love and blessing of Sora be upon us all."
The irony of her introduction entertained me so much that an unintentional snicker escaped me.
Compared to Lord Ronandt’s through and through unique introduction, I’m afraid mine pale in comparison."
"Not at all, princess. Besides, I don’t think I’m anyone worthy of the title "Lord," which would explain my rather short and boring introduction. I am a simple man. With no great name whatsoever."
"That would be Lord Ronandt coming across as overly modest. We both know you have every right to carry the title of "Lord," with the right name, blood, and backing to do so."
"Oh, that's a great honor. Princess seems to be quite well informed in regard to my person."
"I am. I’ve heard a lot about you from my grandfather. Maybe Lord Ronandt knows about him. Oh, what am I saying? Of course, you do; he is the Holy Paladin Ymir Altair."
"Oh, indeed. I do know him. We, though briefly, met in the past. I cannot wait to meet him again. We have so much to discuss about him and me."
Playing along with the jesting, I failed to notice that I might’ve overstepped a little, as my words left the princess and everyone in an awkward silence.
"I’m sure this is a shared feeling," the princess muttered after a while.
"Now that we've made introductions, what do you think of the party?" Is there anything else we can do to help you, Princess? Perhaps something you'd like to see at your table."
"No, I’m fine, Lord Joffery. Though I noticed that I failed to see Lord Paul anywhere, will he not be here today?"
"Ah, father. He did promise to come today, but it seems like–"
Jofferey was interrupted by the sound of a spoon tapping against a glass.
"That’s Grandfather."
"Speaking of the devil,"
The notification rang out, and the crowd proceeded to the source of the noise, a podium, as did we.
Two men stood at the podium. Both were, I could tell, roughly the same age. One was dressed as a butler. He was holding the glass and the spoon, which he had previously rung. The other man, on the other hand, was dressed in a noble manner, with undeniable class, standing proudly, holding a golden cane, which he didn’t seem to need yet at his age. His hair was of a familiar chestnut color with the same graying pattern that left me with no doubt about the man’s identity.
"When a man reaches my age," he started, "he often finds himself wondering, pondering, and looking at what he has achieved over the years, over decades. I'm sure many of my fellow sexagenarians have regrets about what they've accomplished in their lives, but I don't, because when I look back, I see this: ---" he said, spreading his arms wide to the crowds. "collaborators, friends, and families,"
It was subtle, but each time he made it, his eyes shifted distinctively to each of these words. For a moment, when he made mention of collaborators, I thought I had caught him looking my way, but then I realized it wasn’t for me but rather for the man standing beside me, who, subtle as it was, answered his words with a slight nod.
"Rebecca, sweety, come over here," he pursued.
"Yes, Grandfather," she replied cheerfully, gladly obliging and approaching him atop the stadium.
When she arrived beside him, Rebecca’s grandfather leaned onto the girl, took her into his arms, and announced to the crowd, "I’m very pleased to see that you’ve come such a distance to wish my granddaughter a happy tenth birthday. You have my gratitude, each one of you. I wish I could display it more concretely, but as of now, the best thing I can do to show my gratitude is to invite you to enjoy the cakes, the dishes, the drinks, and this gathering the way you see fit, but I beg of you to leave some for my granddaughter. This is her party, after all. It would be un-noble-like of us to leave her with nothing to feast upon."
The joke lightened the mood, and the end of his speech was met with applause.
Despite having been slightly numbed out by my time with the aristocracy, I couldn't help but be amazed at the sight of a commoner, which I knew he obviously was, standing with such an unfaltering natural amidst, not to mention stop, so many nobles, to whom commoners were usually fearfully bending the knee.
It was not a common sight, especially in that particular segment of human society.
"So this is Paul Douglas. Maa’s little brother."
***
I lay alone on my bed. It was late at night; Rebecca's birthday party had not yet ended, but I had already left because I was in my room, waiting for something.
Knocks reverberated at my door.
To be exact, what I was waiting for was someone.
I jumped out of bed and went to my door to see Nia.
"Hi," I greeted, unable to repress the stupid smile on my face.
"Hi," she replied, her smile matching mine.
"Please get in," I said, inviting her in.
She nonchalantly obliged, and as she did, I glanced outside, both to see if there weren’t any witnesses and to search for a certain other someone.
"If you’re searching for Aryan, he’s not there; he simply delivered me and immediately left," Nia explained, sitting on the bed.
I closed the door behind me.
"I see… That’s a shame; I wanted to thank him for today."
"To thank him?"
Approaching Nia, I said, "Yes. Though it has only been three days since your last visit, I missed you a lot, you know."
"Is that so?"
Nia let herself fall backward on the bed as I closed in on her, allowing me to climb atop her.
"Yes, it is."
Seeing her so close, I leaned over and approached her with my face, as if I were there for a kiss, but just as my lips closed to hers, my attention was drawn elsewhere—her neck, knowing how easily she was tickled and how sensitive she was on that part of her body.
"Hey!" she uttered, if not moaned in surprise, her back arching like a bow.
"Hum?"
"What's with that mischievous smile?"
"What smile?"
"Lord Ronandt, could it be that you’re a pervert?"
"Do I look like one?"
"From this angle, yes."
"Well, I have been treated with so many names and found guilty of so many crimes that I wouldn’t mind adding "Pervert One" to the list, if it is to be able to do this."
My arms wrapping around her waist, I gently laid atop her, burying my head atop the bestest pillow in existence.
"There’s no doubt about it; you’re really a pervert." With these words, she returned my embrace. "But if it's with me, it's not like I mind."
We remained like this for a while before I ventured, "So, what’s new on your end of things?"
"Nothing. Still the same thing as two days ago. Shania is already working on the matter, but there seems to be no movement from the target yet. So I’m left with pretty much nothing to do."
"I see."
"You know I’m a little uncomfortable with having her do the heavy lifting when all I do is stand around waiting for something to happen."
"Trust me; I think I know what you’re talking about. But it’s not like we can change anything about it anyway. So we'd better just enjoy our temporary uselessness and unreliability the way it is."
"I guess you’re right. So, how are things going on your end?"
"On my end, huh? Just like yours, I guess, but... today I met a princess."
"A princess, huh? How was she, that princess?"
"Let me see. Beautiful, truly fit to be called a princess."
"Hum, is that so? You sound very impressed by that beautiful princess, aren’t you?"
Noticing the shift in her tone, I decided to put an end to
"Yes, after all, it was my third time, so far, talking to a princess."
"Third time?"
"The first was with Ramia; as unprincessy as she was, she remained a princess nonetheless."
"If you still think that, I think you really need to see how she is now."
"Yeah, I think you’re right; I’m basing this on what I remember of her; she must’ve changed a lot since then."
"I don’t think she changed that much. But she’s definitely more princessey."
"Well, I can’t wait to see that with my own two eyes."
Going back to the old topic, she asked, "And the second one?"
"Well, I think we both know who the second one is. And I think we both know which one of the three I’m hugging lovingly right now?"
"I do. Do you?"
"I do. And I know she has the unprincessely habit of getting needlessly jealous, even though she knows very well that no one, in my eyes, can hold a candle to her."
"If you say so, then the princess is sorry for getting needlessly jealous and possessive."
"And I, for teasing the princess with such a vile joke."
"If that is the case, then you are pardoned, my prince."
"This humble one is grateful for my princess’s clemence. So if this one is permitted, he would like to...
"Hey~ you know I’m weak to that— hey~ Ronandt."
"I know, but I also know that my princess, in her bottomless clemency, will most likely forgive this crime, so I’m willing to com–."
"Huh? What is it? You suddenly stopped?"
"Well, it's just that you asked me earlier; what's new on my end, right? As you know, today was Rebecca’s birthday. I didn't just meet a princess at the party today; I also finally met Paul Douglas."
"You two finally met?"
"Yes, finally. Though with the party and all, we haven’t had the opportunity to talk to each other yet."
"I see. In any case, that would mean that things would start to get in motion for you."
"Yes, or to be exact, I don’t know. He was the one who, from what Maa told us, requested my presence, yet it is only now that we finally met. I really don’t know anything about what he might expect of me, as from what I can see, it is not just "violence and destruction," which are, to say the least, my peculiar forte. In any case, I cannot wait to see what it is."