[V4C14] Cute and Cool

“And here we have the latest robe from the Flux Company!”

In accordance with the host’s words, a man walked out on stage.

The robe he wore was designed for ease of movement, functionality, and an elegant finish. It had slim sleeves and an overall neat appearance.

The velvety fabric subtly changed color with the play of light, displaying a refined purple-navy hue. Gold-thread embroidery adorned the chest and cuffs, using multiple colors to create a discreet yet three-dimensional effect.

The young man showcasing this beautiful robe on stage had neatly trimmed black hair. His features were distinctively exotic, and his rainbow-colored irises were mysterious and irresistible, captivating anyone who looked into them.

At a brisk pace, the man strode to the center of the stage and turned gracefully in place. This caused the hem of his robe to gently spread out, reflecting the stage lights and sparkling.

Once all eyes were fixed on the stage, the man lifted his lips, narrowed his eyes, and put on an enchanting smile.

At that moment, the loudest cheers of the day erupted.

＊　＊　＊

As Clifford circled the stage and retreated to the wings, Lana was waiting for him, arms crossed.

Now that he was backstage, Clifford spoke with the same expressionless face as always.

“Shouldn’t you be watching from the audience seats?”

“No? It’s the duty of the company president to commend her employees.”

“I see. Then go ahead and commend me to your heart’s content. I feel like I’ve spent a lifetime’s worth of facial muscles.”

As he said this, Clifford used the pads of his thumbs to vigorously rub his cheek.

The alluring smile he displayed on stage was an exact imitation of his mother’s smile. By using a mirror, he had practiced everything from the way he raised the corners of his mouth to the way he narrowed his eyes, all for today’s performance.

Nevertheless, putting on a facade was undoubtedly tiring.

Whenever he observed Lana changing her facial expression all the time, he couldn’t help but wonder how much her facial muscles ached.

It was then that Clifford noticed that Lana seemed unsatisfied, and pointed it out.

“Why are you making that face? The performance was a success. The usual you would be celebrating like crazy, right?”

“…Well excuse me for acting crazy.”

Her response lacked her usual sharpness.

As Clifford wondered what might be bothering her, Lana murmured softly.

“I do feel a bit sorry. Because, Cliff… well… I know you don’t like being treated like an attraction.”

Though Lana’s words surprised Clifford, he remained expressionless.

“Lana, you really are an idiot.”

“W-What! Ridiculing me again! I was just trying to consider your preferences, so…”

“You were mistaken,” interrupted Clifford, with firm words. “There aren’t many things I hate. Honestly, I’m indifferent to almost everything.”

“…”

“Being treated like an attraction is pretty whatever.”

For Clifford, who was indifferent to most things, Lana was the only existence that he didn’t feel that way about.

Therefore, turning himself into a spectacle for Lana’s sake wasn’t much of a hardship. Well, aside from his tired facial muscles.

“Cliff, those glasses were meant to hide your face, right?”

“I’m nearsighted.”

“But you’re clearly wearing glasses that don’t fit. And deliberately wearing mismatched clothes!”

Certainly, the glasses that hid half his face were not a great fit. They were, in Lana’s words, “incredibly tacky”. The same went for his clothing.

Lana had assumed these were meant to hide his conspicuous exotic appearance.

“Lana, you really are an idiot.”

“Hey! You don’t have to keep calling me stupid!”

As Clifford examined Lana’s scowling face, he muttered in his heart.

(Well, you’ll pay more attention to me if I dress in a way you don’t like, right?)

——Look, isn’t it cooler like this?

Lana would always say such things and fuss over him with a proud smile. Clifford loved every moment of that.

＊　＊　＊

The multi-company showcase of miscellaneous magical tools ended successfully, and afterward, a party under the pretext of a social gathering was held at the same venue.

Most of the attendees were individuals related to businesses dealing in magical tools and fashion, officials from the Mage Association, professors from Minerva, and other high-ranking mages.

Thus, there were more than a few participants who wore robes instead of formal attire. For mages, ceremonial robes were also splendid formalwear.

Bernie Jones, the young Count of Ambard, was also attending. He adorned himself with a black robe and his mage’s staff.

Ambard was famous for having the most workshops for industrial magical tools in all of Ridill. Furthermore, the young count himself graduated from the mage training institution of Minerva and held the qualification of an advanced mage.

Given this, it wasn’t strange for him to attend in a robe.

Incidentally, the black robe he wore had no hood, and both the sleeves and the body were slim. The design gave it a clean silhouette that accentuated its decorations.

This was the newest product from the Flux Company, which was one of his business partners. He was essentially wearing it as an advertisement.

(I suppose the design isn’t bad. The fabric has a nice stiffness, and it exudes a sense of luxury.)

Lana Colette, the president of the Flux Company, was, despite being his eternal adversary, quite competent as a business partner.

Although she had some weakpoints, her response was more flexible than that of established workshops, and running a small company meant she provided quick responses. She also had an eye for trends.

Even after inheriting the title of count, Bernie found Lana surprisingly easy to approach since they were the same age. Of course, he had a word or two to say regarding her insults about his glasses.

As Bernie was about to greet Miss Colette, a familiar voice reached his ears.

The faint voice, like a whisper of the wind, was one that Bernie could never overlook.

“Bernie… Bernie… help meeee…”

Turning his eyes toward the voice, sure enough, he found Monica standing against one of the venue’s walls.

Today, she wore a dark green robe rather than the robe meant for the Seven Sages. It was a decorative dress robe with a cinched waist and sleeves decorated with large frills.

Perhaps this was also from the Flux Company. The robes Lana designed always blended well with dresses and formalwear worn by nobles at social events, making them instantly recognizable.

“Hello there, if it isn’t Mage Countess Everett. Knowing you, you’re probably going to say something like you’re afraid of strangers looking at you. Truly, a troublesome Sage. Well, I suppose there’s no helping it. I, Count Ambard, can be your conversational partner…”

As Bernie started chattering away, Monica’s face lit up… Not at Bernie, but at his staff.

“Bernie, Bernie. Um, I want to borrow your staff.”

“…Excuse me?”

“Well, you see, I left my Sage staff since it’s so conspicuous… Then I twisted my ankle a little… because of these unfamiliar heels…”

Monica wanted to escape into the waiting room, but her feet hurt too much to walk. If only she had something to use as a cane… Just as she thought that, Bernie appeared in her field of vision.

For mages, the staff was a symbol of dignity. However, it seems she viewed them as nothing more than a walking aid.

Bernie sighed and raised his left arm, offering it to Monica.

He did all of this, yet the clueless Monica looked up at him in confusion. Irritated, Bernie explained.

“Didn’t you learn the proper way to be escorted at Serendia Academy?”

“Oh, um… Uh, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You want to go to the waiting room, yes?”

After confirming Monica’s nod, Bernie slowly started walking.

“You always end up like this because you attend these events alone. Rumor has it you have a servant and a disciple. Why not bring them with you?”

Bernie secretly decided that he would assess them personally. Meanwhile, Monica, for some reason, smiled wryly and let her gaze wander.

“Um… bringing my servant and disciple…? Uh… They might not be suitable for this kind of place, I think…”

Having no knowledge of the Black Dragon and the Second Prince, Bernie assumed that Monica had attendants with problematic behavior. In a sense, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Knowing you, your attendants probably look down on you. Bring them before me. I’ll give them a stern talking…”

“Oh my, if it isn’t Count Ambard! And, could it be… is that Mage Countess Everett?”

A large middle-aged man approached the two, overpowering Bernie’s voice. He was Viscount Daryl.

Viscount Daryl was the owner of one of the country’s leading mines. The ores he excavated were all high-quality materials for magical tools, making him an indispensable figure for anyone involved in the magical tool industry.

However, Viscount Daryl was a bit arrogant, and on top of that, he was a large man with a loud voice. This was the type of person who scared Monica the most.

Her hand on Bernie’s arm tightened at the sight of Viscount Daryl. Bernie considered quickly ending the conversation and leaving, but surprisingly, Monica spoke of her own accord.

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you. I am the Silent Witch, Monica Everett.”

Bernie stared at Monica in surprise.

Monica didn’t bow or let her gaze wander; she was looking directly up at Viscount Daryl. Although she appeared tense and rigid due to her nervousness, if one didn’t know Monica’s real personality, she might be viewed as “resolute” rather than “nervous”.

Viscount Daryl spoke eloquently, alternating between empty flattery and boasting about his territory. Though Monica remained mostly silent, she did give the minimal courtesies.

After coming back to his senses, Bernie hastily interjected into the conversation.

“Viscount Daryl, I am most thankful for the high-quality gold the other day. That has allowed our research on the new industrial magical tools to progress even further.”

“Oh, that’s good to hear! The gold from our mine is indeed overwhelmingly superior compared to foreign ones, you see…”

“Yes, I hope we can continue to build a beneficial relationship in the future.”

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Bernie promptly distanced himself from Viscount Daryl.

Beside Bernie, Monica exhaled audibly in relief. Her lips were quivering once she was liberated from the tension, as well as what seemed to be the joy of accomplishment.

Though Monica hadn’t engaged in particularly witty conversation, she had looked at her conversation partner in the eyes and responded appropriately. The Monica of the past would have either bowed and stiffened up, or simply fled while crying.

“You’ve grown quite a bit.”

“D-Did I do all right?”

“Not bad, I suppose.”

Monica’s ability to stay composed was likely because she was being escorted by Bernie. She must have realized the stark difference between being alone, and having an excellent escort like himself.

…As Bernie gave himself a mental pat on the back, Monica lifted the sleeve of her robe slightly.

“Lana made this robe for me. The concept is a ‘cute and cool witch’. That’s what she said.”

Her large frilly sleeves swayed, and upon closer inspection, the lining of the sleeve revealed a bright floral pattern.

While the robe itself was a subdued dark green, each flutter of Monica’s sleeves revealed the floral pattern, appearing and disappearing like a flower field glimpsed through the gaps of the trees in a forest.

“I know it’s cute since Lana made it… but the ‘cool’ part depends on my behavior, as Lana put it.”

The robe was very charming, having a high collar, a slim upper body, and an elegant finish. The overall appearance was significantly influenced by the posture of the wearer.

To put it bluntly, the robe would look very unsightly if Monica slouched.

That explained why Monica stood straight with good posture. Even when conversing with Viscount Daryl, Monica never slouched once.

Monica looked up at Bernie and smiled sheepishly.

“I hope I looked a little cool…”

While her way of smiling was far from “cool,” it was undeniably a Monica smile.

Bernie snorted and raised the edge of his glasses as he chuckled.

“Who was it that twisted their ankle and was on the verge of tears again?”

“Ugh…”

“Next time, wear shoes you’re more accustomed to walking in.”

“Ugh… I’ll do that.”

Unbeknownst to Monica, Bernie Jones was secretly concerned about his own lack of height. That was another reason he strongly recommended low-heeled shoes for her.

View the latest chapters at seeker142.github.io