[V5C12] Inappropriate Desire

The party venue was illuminated by exotic lanterns, revealing guests dressed in luxurious attire and hospitality staff adorned in desert dancer costumes. All were captivated by the sweet dreams brought about by the equally sweet candy.

Some individuals had noticeably disheveled clothing from engaging in intimate encounters. Other pairs stood up from the sofas, embracing each other as they moved to separate rooms.

Amidst this revelry, there was a woman surveying the scene with a cold gaze.

She was a slender woman around 20, with her pale blonde hair cut just below her chin. Adorned in embroidered clothing and a fur mantle, she had two pistols hanging from her waist.

Known as Veronica, she was the right hand woman of Throth, the organizer of the Candy Party.

Although ostensibly a mercenary, she was often assigned menial tasks. Veronica was currently walking around the party venue and refilling Throth’s specially made incense.

There were six incense burners set up in the venue. As Veronica visited each one in sequence, she noticed that the replenished incense——or more precisely, the mana within the smoke——was being drawn to a particular spot.

“…?”

Focusing her consciousness, Veronica followed the flow of mana.

The mana appeared to be converging on a young man. He had long silver hair tied at the back of his neck and a slender figure.

With a scowl on his face, the man was leading a petite girl out of the hall.

Veronica’s light lavender-colored eyes quietly sparkled, as if discovering hope.

“…Finally found you,” she muttered to herself. Then, her shoulders began to tremble.

(…Throth is calling for me? Trouble on the upper floor?)

But now that she had found what she was looking for, Throth meant nothing to her. Still, she thought to at least perform one final job as a token of gratitude for the help she received.

After following the silver-haired man with her eyes, Veronica departed the hall.

＊　＊　＊

Cyril walked briskly down the corridor without saying a word.

Monica, frightened by the anger radiating from Cyril’s back, could only remain silent with her eyes downcast.

Ah, something like this had happened before. Monica half-escaped from reality, remembering when she first entered Serendia Academy.

(…Back then, I was called to the student council room, and I was scared, so I hid under the desk, and Cyril-sama scolded me…)

Back then, she had been shackled with ice handcuffs and taken to the student council room.

Though there were no ice shackles on Monica’s wrists now, the hand that Cyril used to grasp her wrist conveyed his anger more intensely than any ice magic.

Eventually, Cyril stopped and opened the door with the number corresponding to the tag hanging from the key.

The interior was a small guest room with minimal furniture. However, all the furnishings seemed luxurious. Presumably, it was a room intended for prostitutes or gigolos to entertain clients.

Cyril pulled Monica into the room and closed the door, before releasing her wrist.

“What were you doing in a place like this?”

Monica shivered at his low, interrogative tone.

She knew she had to say something, but the words of explanation didn’t come out.

The random lady she met in front of her house dragged her here to help her build courage? …What kind of bizarre story would she need to concoct to get Cyril to believe that?

Cyril likely saw it as Monica willingly entering the questionable establishment, then getting intimate with the man named Michel.

Once she realized that, a deep, throbbing pain resonated in the depths of Monica’s chest. Much stronger than anything she had felt before.

Being scolded by Cyril wasn’t a new experience. So why did it hurt so much this time?

…Probably because Monica had become aware of her feelings of love.

(Being hated by someone you care about… it’s so painful.)

Monica bit her lip and trembled as she looked down. Meanwhile, Cyril let out a sigh.

“I heard from Raul that you were troubled about something.”

“…Uh, um.”

“If you have concerns, why not talk about them? Am I that unreliable?”

“N-no…”

There was no way she could tell him.

That she had fallen for him, felt jealous of his potential fiancé, and even rejoiced at his engagement being called off… How could she possibly admit this to Cyril?

“I’m not troubled about anything. I came here, um, with a friend… Really, it’s nothing at all.”

She glanced up at Cyril, noticing his expression growing even more grim.

He probably saw through Monica’s attempt at deception, her insincerity.

(I’m being deceitful.)

Cyril chased Monica this far because he was worried about her. Yet she lied to him out of fear of being disliked. Even though she knew Cyril hated lies.

Cyril didn’t shout at Monica’s feeble lies. He simply closed his eyes, exhaled, and spoke slowly.

“I know you’re not someone who lies without reason, so you must have your reasons for being in a place like this… Are there circumstances you can’t tell me about?”

Monica felt so guilty that she wanted to cry. Cyril had placed his trust in the cowardly Monica. Yet Monica hid her feelings, refusing to tell the truth.

Despite that, his words were so kind.

(I’m sorry, Cyril-sama. I’m so sorry for liking you, causing you trouble, making you worry…)

Despite his anger, Cyril’s eyes displayed his concern for Monica.

Come to think of it, that had been the case since their time in the student council.

Whenever Cyril got angry, it was always because he was worried about Monica. This was followed by him reaching out a helping hand.

…And that made Monica happier than anything.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” asked Cyril.

The words were filled with consideration. Before she knew it, Monica had reached out her hand.

Her slender fingers grasped the edge of Cyril’s clothing as if clinging to him.

This was the best Monica could do right now.

“P-Please… don’t hate me.”

After uttering those words, Monica blushed with embarrassment.

For Monica, who had grown up amidst malice since childhood, the plea “please don’t hate me” was an earnest and almost extravagant desire.

(I don’t have the right to wish for something like this…!)

Feeling ashamed for expressing such an inappropriate desire, Monica suddenly found her vision obscured.

Cyril’s shoulder was right in front of her face. His arm was wrapped around her back, holding Monica’s delicate frame.

“There’s no way I could hate you.”

＊　＊　＊

Since stepping into this establishment, Cyril had been experiencing intense nausea. His head spun, and he felt a haze occasionally clouding his thoughts.

He felt as thought he would discard all semblance of reason if he let his guard down. As such, Cyril had been on edge all this time.

When he saw Monica being pushed down on the sofa in the hall, a burning anger made his vision go white. He almost started chanting an offensive spell, before barely managing to restrain himself.

Even when questioning Monica, Cyril found himself nearly shouting multiple times.

——How could you be so defenseless in front of a suspicious man? What were you thinking?!

——What did you plan to do if something irreversible happened?!

——Why do you burden yourself without consulting anyone?!

He swallowed those words, held back the impulse welling up from the depths of his stomach, and spoke with calmness… or at least, that was his intention.

However, when Monica timidly grabbed Cyril’s clothes and looked up at him with teary eyes, Cyril’s mind went completely blank.

“P-Please… don’t hate me.”

Once his mind comprehended those words, he found himself embracing Monica, faster than he could think.

“There’s no way I could hate you.”

Those words spilled out of Cyril’s mouth. It was practically on impulse.

Why would Monica say such a thing when there was no way he could hate her?

If anything, she should be more greedy, wish for more, hope for more.

(…Why does your wish sound so sad?)

Unconsciously, strength flowed into the hands holding Monica. Cyril felt Monica’s body twitching in his embrace. He looked down at her face.

The teary-eyed Monica was blushing all the way to her ears. Her half-opened lips were trembling.

(…What am I doing——!?)

By leaving the room with the burning incense, the effects of the magic potion had faded. However, Cyril was unaware of what had happened to his body.

Therefore, only now did Cyril realize that he had impulsively embraced Monica. It was already too late.

Now it was Cyril who blushed with his lips quivering. Monica also continued trembling and blushing.

Cyril was in such a panic that he couldn’t speak. He didn’t even realize that he had yet to release Monica’s hand.

(Bringing a woman into a room and embracing her! How could I engage in such an impure act!? I need someone to punch me!)

His wish ended up being fulfilled in an unforeseen manner.

The Thorn Witch, Raul Roseberg, burst into the room by kicking down the door. His right hand was raised into the air.

“Here I go!”

With a powerful shout that belied his refined beauty, Raul cracked the candy he held with his fingers and jammed it into Cyril’s mouth. This was Raul’s homemade rose candy.

The rose syrup trapped inside the candy spread throughout Cyril’s mouth, and his consciousness began drifting away…

＊　＊　＊

“Phew, it’s a good thing I happened to have House Roseberg’s secret rose candy with me! I added a bit more sedative, so he’ll surely be back to his senses when he wakes up!”

Raul smiled refreshingly as if he had just finished a job well done, and Cyril had fainted, lying on the floor. Monica glanced between the two, confused, before finally opening her mouth.

“Um, er, Raul-sama…?”

“This place was burning incense infused with a magical potion, which had an effect similar to an aphrodisiac. Cyril has mana hyperabsorption, right? So, it seems to have done a number on him.”

“A-A magical potion… I-I see, a magical potion, that makes sense.”

Monica quickly spoke as if trying to convince herself, nodding repeatedly.

Observing Cyril stretched out on the floor, Raul crossed his arms and muttered to himself.

“By the way, there’s something weird with the incense on the first floor… It smelled similar to House Roseberg’s secret love potion. Well, maybe a bit different… like they added something to it.”

“…Huh?”

House Roseberg’s love potion with something added to it. Melissa complaining about her products being tampered with and resold. Finally, the rose candies that Melissa gave her.

These three subjects connected within Monica’s mind, leading to a certain hypothesis.

(C-Could it be…?)

At that moment, a loud noise from upstairs reached their ears. It was a rumbling sound, as if all the furniture in the room had been overturned.

Monica recalled that this room was the closest to the staircase. This gave her an uneasy feeling.

As Monica pressed her chest, next came the sound of breaking glass, also from upstairs.

Outside the room’s window, they could see a table falling from the floor above, along with several glass shards.

“Are they having a lovers’ quarrel on the upper floor?” remarked Raul, casually.

He opened the window and looked up at the window on the floor above. Monica approached the window and did the same.

The window on the upper floor was shattered into pieces, with green vines extending out of it. These were rose vines, moving as if they were serpents with a will of their own.

“Oh, it’s my sister’s vines.”

Upon hearing those words, Monica realized that her hypothesis was correct.

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