94. Wedding Preparations Complete

“……”

Looking at the two women staring at him, Isaac wore a bewildered expression.

They had the air of children gazing expectantly at their grandfather, waiting for him to tell them a fun story.

Isaac, feeling awkward, scratched his cheek and asked,

“Just what is it, specifically, that you want me to teach you?”

“Shouldn’t we start with admiration, perhaps?”

“Admiration, you say?”

At his question, Princess Claris nodded without hesitation.

“Yes, needing that might help me become more proactive, I think.”

“……”

“The truth is, right now I am in a perfectly complete state, with absolutely no need for a man or love!”

“Hoo.”

Isaac had a vague idea of what she meant.

Even though it was absurd, the underlying reason for this request, the fact that it was for someone else, was oddly touching.

Needing someone else as reason to love.

‘The fundamental premise is a little strange.’

If the Isaac of his romantic past were here, he would have pointed that out first.

But the Isaac of today was different.

“First, what are your preferences?”

“I haven’t.”

It was the answer I expected.

“Isn’t there a man who feels… different? Someone who feels even a little familiar?”

“Familiar… well, Isaac and Heyrad, perhaps? They are escort knights, after all, always around.”

“Then let us imagine it. Holding Heyrad’s hand, kissing him—”

“Ugh, I wouldn’t like that.”

“……”

“……”

“In the first place, I don’t even understand why people kiss. I know it’s a very dangerous act, don’t I? If you get contaminated or—”

This princess… it seemed it would take some time.

* * *

The sun dipped below the horizon, and the procession halted.

Around the bonfires blooming in scattered spots around the carriages, people gathered according to their affiliation.

Knights with knights.

Maids with maids.

Gathered in twos and threes, sharing stories around the crackling fire, watching the smoke curl into the air… it felt as though a romance long dead was beginning to bloom again.

Or perhaps it was simply because I was unattached, and therefore still held possibilities.

“So, you are saying you are teaching the princess about love?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

The Grand Master, seated beside me, tore into his grilled skewer with a sly grin.

He licked his lips, gleaming with oil, and added,

“Intriguing. Love is, by nature, deeply emotional and focused on individual desire. To want to understand it for the sake of another…”

“Ah.”

Sharen, eating her own skewer beside me, let out an exclamation of admiration, as if she had heard something profound.

The Grand Master turned his gaze to Clarise, seated across from us near the bonfire, and offered his counsel.

“Emotions are, in truth, natural. Like a river, they will flow of their own accord. Do not try to force the current to change.”

“Ooh.”

“So, you’re saying there’s no need to force it?”

“For however much you may force it, you yourself will know the truth. Such is love.”

Though his primary teachings revolved around the sword, the Grand Master often offered observations on matters outside of it.

…though he did conclude by saying wielding a sword at the very end was bothersome, advising to gather one’s thoughts.

“Then, would you enlighten me a bit?”

“Hm?”

After the counsel, the Grand Master, meat still in his maw, pauses momentarily at Clarice’s request.

“You said there were moments that stirred you, Grand Master. I want to know when you felt that stirring, that love.”

“……”

A hesitant pause, and then the Grand Master is about to speak.

“It had to be with a person. None of this, like, loving your sword nonsense, understood?”

Again, his lips are sealed shut.

“……”

His ears droop, and his tail sweeps the ground. Then, turning to Isaac, he grumbles.

“The Master wishes to be intoxicated.”

“It is a bridal procession. No spirits allowed.”

“Then I shall step out for a smoke, so change the subject while I am gone.”

Shoulders slumped, the Grand Master retreated to a corner to light a smoke.

Avoiding the fiercely blooming bonfires, the cigarette tip glowed weakly in the corner, more forlorn than usual.

“Haa, this is difficult. It would be so much better if there were just firm, fixed answers.”

Clarice sighed, a long, drawn-out breath, and pouted her lips.

But Isaac rather agreed with the Grand Master’s mention of a “flow.”

“Would you look over there?”

Isaac’s fingertip pointed towards another bonfire.

The company was gathered in their respective groups.

And within the knight’s circle, one approached the maids carefully, murmuring something.

The firelight concealed his flushed face, creating a tender, mellow atmosphere.

Before long, one of the maids took his hand and rose, and the two danced, simply.

It wasn’t much of a dance, really; just matching steps while holding hands, but even that was not so bad.

“That’s the feeling I mean.”

“……”

Riding the wave of the first knight, the other knights followed suit, heading toward the maids.

Moreover, the maids, too, cautiously approached the stiff, formal knights who were only glancing at them.

A modest dance party unfolded.

Beneath the cool, generous night sky, bonfires sent smoke spiraling upwards, the crackling a music all its own.

“What do you think?”

“Honestly.”

Amidst the knowing smiles of everyone else, Clarice scratched her cheek and spoke.

“Even though we’ve stopped to rest, we’re still technically on a mission. I’m not sure if it’s right to be playing like this.”

“……”

“……”

For a moment, the two exchanged a glance.

Reason was so dominant, emotion couldn’t find a foothold.

Isaac, sensing this, was about to say something when –

“I’m feeling it!”

Sharen sprung to her feet, grinning as she shouted.

Then, she strode purposefully towards Isaac, extending a hand.

“This is it, isn’t it?”

“It is, but no.”

“……”

Sharen’s outstretched hand remained suspended.

Whether from embarrassment or sheer obstinacy, she didn’t withdraw.

But Isaac had his own reasons.

“What do you think people will say if I dance with you here?”

“That we’re a handsome couple?”

“Ugh, that dancing with my ex-wife’s sister might look like adultery.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, so –”

Sharen’s hand seized Isaac’s. Being a Hellmunt, her strength was considerable, and Isaac found himself hauled to his feet.

And then dragged into the throng of people.

“Sharen!”

“Oh, come on! It’s fun! I want to try something like this too!”

Sharen’s exclamation was met with laughter from those nearby, weaving and dancing around them.

Is that all I look like? Just some uncle playing with a cute kid?

In the end, Isaac had no choice but to give in to Sharen’s grumbling request.

“Hehe! It’s so romantic, somehow!”

“…I suppose it is.”

Sharen was right.

The atmosphere was quite warm, almost like stepping back into the old days.

His steps were practiced.

A crimson-haired girl holding his hand.

Isaac laughed, a bittersweet sound, at the unexpected way their memories intertwined.

“Ooh, you’re thinking about Unni, aren’t you?”

“How did you know?”

“Isaac always gives this wistful little smile when he thinks about Unni.”

“…I see.”

“For the record, Unni, when *she* thinks about Isaac—”

Her free-spirited chatter abruptly cut off. Sharen glanced away, as if realizing she’d made a mistake.

Curious now, Isaac kept pace and asked,

“When she thinks about me?”

“You really shouldn’t hear this, do you still want to?”

“…Then, never mind.”

“Smart!”

Sharen nodded, her smile bright and uncomplicated.

Watching her, Isaac found words he hadn’t realized he possessed hovering on his tongue.

“Ahaha! This is fun! It feels so different, walking around with people like this! Nothing like a mansion banquet, that’s for sure!”

A whirling, twirling dance.

“……”

There’s no point in ‘what-ifs’ now.

He knew, intellectually, that even thinking like this was pointless.

‘If only.’

But the thought kept resurfacing.

Perhaps it was a side effect of the regression, but he found himself dwelling on such hypotheticals more and more.

The banquets, those few times.

Back then, your face so stiff with tension–.

‘If you had given me just one, single smile so bright.’

If only.

Perhaps… things might have turned out differently?

“Wow! That was fun!”

The dance ended, their hands parting. Isaac, walking back to their original spot with Sharen, noticed Clarisse speaking with Heirad.

They seemed to be in the midst of a heated argument, and it was best not to approach them now.

Grand Master Deathbringer, who actually was smoking a pipe, approached and draped an arm over Isaac’s shoulder.

“Let us go.”

“Go where, exactly?”

“Where else but to dance? Surely you won’t deny me a turn?”

“…”

Honestly, he didn’t want to.

Sharen’s enthusiastic twirls had left him feeling a little dizzy.

But the Grand Master pressured him with a smile that wasn’t quite a smile.

“What, must I dye my hair red to warrant your attention? Or is there an age limit for dancing over there? From what I hear, you seduced Rianna Hellmund at an age-“

“Let’s go! Let’s go!”

The Grand Master dragged Isaac away, leaving Sharen alone.

“I don’t want to go over there.”

She had no intention of intruding on Clarisse and Heirad’s serious conversation.

Finally, looking around, Sharen ran over to the servants’ bonfire, eager to sample the treats they had brought.

* * *

Approximately fifteen days had passed.

“We arrive tomorrow.”

At first, the Pegasus was fascinating, but now it seemed no different than any other carriage.

Inside the lurching Pegasus, Isaac spoke those words.

“Are you prepared?”

Clarisse pondered Isaac’s question for a moment, then gave a soft chuckle.

“I suspect, even if I had taken triple the time, things wouldn’t be much different than they are now.”

Clarice, in her own way, had been trying to understand love.

But for her, little changed.

Only abstract notions had been endlessly drilled in, but wasn’t that simply the nature of love?

“Though, I think my attitude towards it has shifted a bit. Perhaps I’m now capable of acting more proactively as a wife, or something.”

“……”

“Someone emphasized it until their lips wore thin, you know.”

Smile at your husband.

Talk to your husband.

Spend time with your husband.

Eat with your husband.

Your husband is not the enemy.

Even if you hate your husband, talk to him first.

Your husband is on your side.

Consult with your husband.

Even if your husband is foolish, he is still your husband.

Et cetera, et cetera.

“Still, you’ve learned something, right? Like the importance of a marital relationship?”

Isaac said, a bit awkwardly, and Clarice frowned.

“At first, yes, but later it just sounded like complaints aimed at Lianna.”

“Ahem.”

Well, nothing could be done about that, then.

Clarice chuckled, watching Isaac clear his throat in embarrassment.

“Thank you.”

“Huh?”

“Because of you, and Sharen, people I can talk to comfortably… I’ve actually had fewer distracting thoughts.”

“……”

“I think I can greet my groom with a clear mind.”

“Is that so.”

Clarice calmly closed her eyes.

The sunlight streamed through the window, and a gentle smile graced her lips.

“To think this enjoyment is the last, well, it might be a little wistful.”

Perhaps, after the marriage, there would be no occasion to meet Clarisse.

She would be, undeniably, filling the role of queen in another land, after all.

At best, even if seen at official gatherings, such comfortable conversation as this would be impossible.

“My sister and Heirad rant and rave that I am sacrificing myself, but I… I rather think it fortunate.”

Because.

“Since I know nothing of this thing called love, I feel no sorrow.”

“…”

“If I, like Isaac back then, had someone in my heart I would give everything to, even-.”

Surely, it would have been difficult.

Clarisse whispered.

“Princess.”

In Isaac’s memory.

The Clarisse before his regression was the last shred of pride for the kingdom.

Following the assassinated Princess Adeline, a commander who had been forced, almost, to seize military power.

Having never given up, nor fled, in the end.

He had heard she died heroically in battle.

Isaac did not know the details of her death.

“Perhaps – what awaits you now is not such a bad future.”

Certainly, compared to then.

Marrying a foreign prince would be a happier thing.

“Transcendent lineage, strengthening royal power, all of that put aside. You can simply live as one man’s wife.”

“…Is that so?”

Clarisse lowered her head for a moment.

When Isaac had first seen Clarisse.

He had assessed her, like Silverna, as a talent not yet in full bloom.

For the her he saw now was certainly different from the her he had known in his previous life.

Silverna, to bloom, was likely still striving in the North even now.

But.

‘Your talent, perhaps, need not bloom.’

If she sleeps peacefully, as she is.

That in itself is a fine future.

“Indeed.”

Claris slowly opens her eyes, a smile gracing her lips.

“Congratulations on your marriage, Princess.”

“Thank you, Isaac.”

A bright smile blossoms.

Claris has now completed her preparations to become someone’s wife.

And.

Heriad threw open the carriage door and burst inside, calling out urgently.

“P-Princess-! Prince Raphael has eloped and run away-!”

“……”

Isaac blinks, involuntarily glancing at Claris.

Claris, her mouth agape, expresses her feelings in a single, concise sentence.

“That son of a b*tch……”