[V3C12] The Use of a Lady's Gloves

“W-Why are you…?”

Ray Albright, clearly shocked, let his eyes swim with a tense expression on his face.

Frieda observed her fiancé closely.

She had met Ray before in front of the Albright family mansion, but at that time, her impression was overwhelmed by his purple hair, so she hadn’t gotten a close look at his face.

Ray was a pale, slightly emaciated young man with a sickly complexion. His skin appeared almost bluish against the white of his formal wear.

His distinctive purple hair was uneven in length, and for some reason, his side-swept bangs were longer on the right side.

(Come to think of it, that charm…)

Inside the amulet pouch brought by the bat familiar were items woven from purple hair. Frieda realized that he must have been cutting his hair each time he made a charm.

Satisfied with the reason behind his wild hair, Frieda began speaking.

“By the way, we haven’t properly introduced ourselves. Strictly speaking, it’s not our first meeting, but nice to meet you formally. I’m Frieda Blanquet, and I’ve come from Valmbelk, the borderland region of the neighboring country, to marry you.”

After introducing herself and taking a step closer, Ray involuntarily shrank his shoulders. Remaining huddled down, he took two hesitant steps back.

Frieda was reminded of a stray cat that had taken up residence in her family’s castle.

When trying to make eye contact with the cat, it would become wary and run away. The trick to approaching and petting it was to shift your gaze slightly away.

Frieda shifted her gaze slightly to the side and took a step closer. For every step she took, Ray stepped back. Again she approached, and again Ray moved backwards. After repeating this exchange a few times, Ray eventually hit his back against the mansion’s wall. Now was the chance, so Frieda placed both hands on the wall, trapping Ray.

Her palms hit the wall with a thud, and Ray exclaimed with teary eyes, “H-huh!?”

Frieda peered closely into Ray’s face with her gray eyes.

“Why are you running away?”

“H-huh… I-it’s, no, I don’t like, uh, I mean…”

Ray, muttering with a trembling voice, corrected his words.

“N-no, that’s not it, I don’t dislike you…!”

“Then what is it that you dislike?”

Ray’s throat trembled. His restless gaze, which had been wandering anxiously, eventually fell to the ground.

“…B-Being hated by others…”

Frieda blinked a few times in surprise, as Ray earnestly pleaded again.

“P-please… don’t say you hate me… I get it, a shaman liking you might be creepy, you could be cursed, and it’s scary, I understand that… So, please, I won’t ask you to say ‘I love you’ or anything… just, please don’t hate me…”

Ray’s words flowed out in rapid succession, and Frieda tilted her head before returning it to its original position.

He had been running away not because he hated Frieda, but because he was scared of being hated by her.

(But why would he be convinced that he’s going to be hated by someone he hasn’t even met yet?)

Being a shaman must put him in a unique position. Well, perhaps half of his submissive attitude might be his own disposition.

At any rate, it’s best to clear up misunderstandings early.

“I have no reason to hate you.”

“Eh?” Ray exclaimed, his mouth wide open as he looked at Frieda.

With Ray’s long-lowered eyelashes finally lifted. Frieda silently noticed that his eyelashes were also purple.

“…You don’t hate me?” Ray asked.

“Right.”

“…Really?”

“You’ve given me letters, medicine, charms, and such. Since you are the Bat Prince.”

＊　＊　＊

Cyril, who had been silently observing Frieda and Ray, muttered with complete seriousness, “This is a miracle.”

Ray Albright’s behavior wasn’t praiseworthy in the slightest. Most women would have lost all faith and turned their backs on him. However, Frieda Blanquet said she didn’t hate Ray.

“Maybe that white outfit was a good choice after all. It’s all thanks to Mary-san’s touch!” said the smiling Raul, who had also been watching from the shadows. This caused Monica and Isaac to exchange dubious glances.

Ignoring their reactions, Raul rummaged through his pocket and pulled something out.

“…What’s that?” asked Cyril, to which Raul replied, “Rose seeds!” as he began pouring mana into the seeds on his palm.

The seeds sprouted practically instantly and grew at an astonishing speed.

Growing roses from seeds was extremely challenging, even with the use of imbuement magic. Yet Raul effortlessly grew a rose entwined around his own arm, then plucked it with a pair of gardening shears from his pocket. He then handed it to Cyril.

Cyril looked down at the red rose in his palm and furrowed his brows.

“…What am I supposed to do with this?”

“I want you to pluck the petals.”

“…Why?”

“Well, to make a romantic atmosphere, of course. We’ll scatter them like a shower of blessings! Monica and Your Highness, help out too. Oh, you there too. Can you lend a hand plucking flowers?”

Saying so, Raul picked the blooming flowers one by one and handed them to Monica, Isaac, and… Glenn.

“Glenn Dudley!?”

Cyril widened his eyes in surprise. Monica also exclaimed, “Glenn-san!?” a second later.

Standing there was a tall youth with dirty blonde hair, Glenn Dudley, the disciple of the Barrier Mage. He smiled warmly with a “Long time no see!”

Isaac, who seemed to be the only one aware of Glenn’s presence, greeted him with a friendly tone.

“Hello there, Dudley-kun.”

“Oh, hi, President! Thanks for helping me with the exam studies!”

“You’re welcome. By the way, why are you here? Were you invited to the party?”

To Isaac’s question, Glenn scratched his head with a slightly awkward expression.

“Well, I don’t really have an invitation or anything… but there was someone who really wanted to meet Abyss Shaman-san… So, when I went to his mansion, they told me he was away at a party. I remembered my master going to a party at Starseer Witch-san’s mansion, so I figured he might be there. Then I saw someone with purple hair from the sky, so here I am!”

Cyril raised an eyebrow at Glenn’s completely nonchalant explanation.

“Explain a little more coherently, Glenn Dudley. So, in other words, you illegally trespassed into this mansion and brought an uninvited guest with you?”

“Um, the guy I brought is that traveler over there… Huh? Wait, where did he go?”

After scanning the surroundings, Glenn suddenly exclaimed, “There he is!” and pointed towards the front garden.

At the end of his pointing finger, there was the figure of a man in traveler’s attire approaching Ray and Frieda.

＊　＊　＊

Staring back into the gray eyes looking at him, Ray’s pale cheeks blushed crimson.

For the first time ever, his overly anxious heart now pounded for a different reason.

(…S-She doesn’t hate me!)

Frieda willingly approached Ray, a man with purple hair and curse patterns on his skin.

She was facing him directly, without averting her gaze. As his fiancé, no less.

(Is this, perhaps, something I can look forward to? Oh, could she actually come to like me…!)

Half of Ray told him to rein in his expectations, and the other half couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation. His feelings underwent an internal clash.

But there was no question about which would win.

Because Ray Albright always yearned to be loved by someone, desperately.

(…Love me.)

Ray was about to touch Frieda with the hands trembling in expectation, but at that moment…

“Pardon me, I take it you are the Abyss Shaman, Ray Albright.”

Someone approached the two. He was a tall man with a somewhat unassuming appearance.

Frieda turned around, her sharp eyes widening.

“Brother? Why are you here?”

Indeed, the man’s dull golden hair and gray eyes resembled Frieda’s, so he was clearly her brother. However, the auras they gave were quite different.

Frieda’s brother seemed to have a somewhat unreliable and gentle demeanor.

(M-My brother-in-law…! I should probably greet him, right? Should I say “please leave your sister to me”? No, we’re already engaged, so maybe I should say “I promise to make her happy”?)

As Ray awkwardly pondered about such things, Frieda’s brother placed his hand on the hilt of the sword hanging at his waist.

Suddenly, his unreliable demeanor underwent an instantaneous transformation.

His sharp, scrutinizing gray eyes now resembled the eyes of a wolf focused on its prey.

“I am Henrik Blanquet, Frieda’s brother. I challenge you, Abyss Shaman Ray Albright, to a duel!”

Henrik declared the challenge with a resounding voice as he slammed his glove at Ray’s feet.

Ray jumped in surprise and shouted with a cracking voice, “A d-d-duel!? With me… Why…!?”

“Why, you ask? Some nerve you have. How many women have you seduced with that mouth of yours?”

At the mention of seduction, Ray reflected on his actions.

Certainly, Ray had approached many girls, pleading, “Do you love me?” countless times.

However, if he had never been loved in return, could it really be said that he seduced them?

As Ray held his head and groaned, Frieda stepped forward, shielding Ray.

“Brother, Lord Albright is a shaman. There is no reason for him to respond to a duel between knights.”

(She defended me! How kind! I’m being protected! This is being loved! I’m loved!)

“In which case…”

Frieda averted her gaze from her brother and began removing her silk glove.

As Ray wondered why she was taking off her gloves, Frieda forcefully threw her glove at her brother.

“As someone born into a family of knights, I shall accept the duel in his place.”

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