[V8C23] Nice to Meet You, Idiot

The recently established theater was not an exclusive venue for nobility, but rather, a theater catering mainly to the middle class. Even so, the building was relatively clean, and there were a few special seats in a partitioned section.

Monica had never been to this type of theater before, so she was at a complete loss, unsure of where to even begin purchasing tickets. And she wasn’t alone; Cyril and Raul also appeared to be unfamiliar with the venue.

“Um, s-so, which seats should we be getting…?”

“The front row seats are always the best, right?” Raul answered.

“Hold on,” Cyril interjected. “Wouldn’t sitting a bit farther give us a better view of the stage…?”

As Monica, Raul, and Cyril were busy agonizing over their choices, Isaac took the opportunity to purchase tickets for all four of them. Their seats were in the central partitioned section at the rear of the theater.

“Cyril is right, being further back makes it easier to see everything. Besides, Monica would feel more comfortable in the partitioned section, right?”

Isaac explained his choice while pointing at their seats on the seating diagram displayed on the wall, before confidently leading them to their seats.

“As impressive as always, Your Highness…”

Cyril seemed impressed, but Monica knew the truth: Isaac was an expert on nightlife. He had likely frequented similar public theaters whenever he snuck out of Serendia Academy.

The special seats turned out to be essentially sofas with long backs, adorned with soft cushions that provided a comfortable seating experience.

Monica buried herself in the cushions, absentmindedly swaying her legs back and forth. However, she quickly straightened up once Cyril glared at her.

Then, the bell signaling the beginning of the play rang. The performance was about to start.

Thule and Pikeh peeked out from Cyril’s bag in their weasel forms.

“Hey Bion, I’m back. Man, today was another rough day. The taxes just keep rising, and there are rumors of an impending war. Once that starts, we may have to move to another city.”

A thin, middle-aged man was speaking to a young man seated on a chair. However, the young Bion simply sat upright without a word of response. He neither blinked nor turned his head, just constantly staring straight ahead.

Monica wondered to herself why Bion wasn’t moving. In the meantime, the middle-aged man continued to talk.

“Oh right, Bion, I bought you a new coat today. I’m really sorry for being late; you must have been so cold.”

The man took out a warm-looking fur coat and unfolded it in front of Bion. Then, he lifted the unmoving Bion’s arm and dressed him in the coat.

The man himself wore incredibly worn-out clothes. And yet, he smiled joyously after putting the splendid coat on Bion.

Meanwhile, the villagers who were watching the scene from outside the window pointed at the man and laughed.

“Hey guys, look. Simeon is acting it out again.”

“He must be messed up in the head.”

“Does he really want a son that badly?”

Regardless, Simeon ignored the snickering villagers and kept talking to Bion.

“——Bion is a boy dressed in splendid clothes by his father, but he lacks the ability to speak. Why? Because Bion is just a doll. Simeon, a man with no son, had dressed up a doll and pretended it was his real child…”

Monica widened her eyes at this surprising revelation.

However, a glance at the adjacent seats revealed that Isaac and the others did not seem particularly surprised. They must have already been familiar with the story.

In addition, Cyril seemed to be watching the play with an unusual fervor, despite the fact that it had only just begun.

(I wonder if Cyril-sama likes this story.)

Monica decided to return her attention to the stage. Even if the motive was a bit selfish, she wanted to know the kinds of things that Cyril liked.

As the play continued, the rest of the story unfolded.

One day, the goddess bestowed Bion with a soul after witnessing Simeon’s unadulterated devotion. Now a human, Bion rose from his chair for the first time and greeted his father.

“Good morning, Dad.”

“Oh, Bion, Bion, it’s really you…!”

To the deeply moved Simeon, Bion continued with a gentle smile.

“Thank you for the wonderful coat. I’ve always wanted to express my gratitude.”

This was followed by the sound of sniffles. Monica glanced sideways to see Cyril holding back tears.

＊　＊　＊

The audience roared with cheers and applause as Monica let out a deep sigh. Noticing this, Isaac smiled and asked, “Did you enjoy the play?”

“Yes! I’ve always been bad with novels, so I thought I might never be able to understand these kinds of stories… but the play was very engaging.”

These were Monica’s true feelings.

She found it hard to enjoy novels, mainly due to her difficulty in understanding metaphorical expressions, as well as her inability to fill in the gaps between scenes. Simply put, her imagination was a bit lacking.

But in contrast, the play had been very easy for Monica to comprehend. It was far simpler to understand the emotions that went into dialogue when recited by actors, compared to reading them on a page. Perhaps the fact that this play was intended for wider audiences also played a role.

“Man, that was great!” Raul exclaimed. “My heart was pounding every time Bion got into a pinch, but the best part was the end, where he joined forces with his friends to overcome the final trial! Right, Cyril! …Oh.”

Raul abruptly paused his review, then turned to Monica.

“Hey Monica, let’s go get some drinks!”

“Huh? Oh… o-okay!”

Cyril remained completely motionless, with his face covered by a handkerchief. Apparently, he was overwhelmed with emotion to the point of shedding tears.

With a wry smile, Isaac sent Monica and Raul off while saying, “I’ll keep an eye on our luggage.”

The play had only just ended, so the theater was still packed with people. That said, Monica was able to handle the crowd since she had a friend with her.

As the two searched for a drink stand on the less crowded side of the road, Raul brought up the subject.

“Oh yeah, the Seven Sages meeting is coming up soon. Are you staying in the capital until then?”

“No, I, um, plan to return to Sazandol first.”

The journey had been rather sudden, and above all, Monica was concerned about the missing Nero. There was also the aftermath of the water dragon subjugation to deal with, so if possible, she wanted to return to Sazandol.

Upon hearing Monica’s fidgety answer, Raul took a look around before continuing in a hushed tone.

“I see, that might be for the best.”

“…Huh?”

“The next meeting will probably be a long one. My grandmas, as well as Ray’s grandma, seem to be visiting Mary-san a lot recently. There’s probably been some kind of prophecy.”

Mary Harvey, the Starseer Witch, was the nation’s top prophet as well as an active member of the Seven Sages. In addition, Ray’s grandmother was a former Sage and the predecessor to the Abyss Shaman. Raul’s grandmothers were also prominent figures in Ridill’s magical community.

If such influential witches were holding a secret meeting, then it was indeed likely that Mary had foreseen a major event.

As Monica grew tense at this realization, Raul casually changed the subject.

“Oh, and by the way… Louis-san said he found a new candidate for the Seven Sages.”

“R-Really?”

“Yeah. The first candidate, the Soaring Mage, apparently slipped away from Louis-san, and even fled the country. He got really pissed off at that, but then, old man Sanders the Thunder Mage stepped in and…”

“Ah…!! It’s Monica-chan!”

Before Raul could finish speaking, a lively shout interrupted him from behind.

Monica turned around to see a petite girl weaving through the crowd as she ran towards them. She had black hair tied up in a large bun and charming cat-like eyes. This was Karina Barr, a member of the Imperial envoy who had called herself a pseudo-maid.

“Karina!”

“Wahoo! It really is you, Monica-chan. Good thing I didn’t get the wrong person this time. Oh, and the gardener guy is with you too! Good evening!”

Despite being referred to as ‘the gardener guy,’ Raul responded with a casual wave without bothering to correct her. Meanwhile, Karina explained their relationship with a smile.

“I got lost in the palace so many times, but the gardener guy always shows me the way!”

Monica turned to Raul to see him winking with a thumbs-up.

“Yep, I’ve guided her like ten times!”

“You really saved me!”

“Sure thing! By the way, are you two friends?”

“Yeah, that’s right!”

Karina nodded instantly without a hint of hesitation, causing Monica to blush slightly.

(Yeah, having a friend makes me really happy…)

As Monica began fidgeting with her fingers, Karina peeked into her face.

“Monica-chan, will you be in the capital for a while?”

“Uh, well, I need to leave soon, but I’ll probably come back for work…”

“I see. Well then, say hi if you see me around the palace! …Oh no, I have to get back soon. See you later, Monica-chan, gardener guy!”

Karina promptly ran off in the same lively and abrupt manner in which she had appeared, causing Raul to murmur, “She’s always full of energy.”

(The next time I go to the palace… I hope I can have a leisurely chat with Karina and Cecilia-sama.)

Monica now had something to look forward to when visiting the palace. That would have been unimaginable not too long ago.

After glancing at the wooden cat hanging from her bag, Monica put on a faint smile.

＊　＊　＊

While watching the audience seats empty out, Isaac recalled the day he visited the theater a few years ago.

Back then, Isaac had slipped out of the Serendia Academy dormitory to visit various theaters, from upper-class ones to standing theaters for the common folk.

He did this to fulfill his promise with a departed friend: seeking something enjoyable that he could engross himself in. But despite the many plays he watched, nothing truly grabbed his heart.

Isaac had learned how to objectively analyze the script, directorial intentions, and the performance of the actors, but that was about it.

Deep down, he knew the truth.

Isaac never had any genuine interest in the stars, yet gazing at the night sky with Arc was so fun. Not to mention the times he prepared cookies and tea for his secret escapades with Arc. Those were his real treasures.

And he felt the same way right now.

——Nothing has been enjoyable without you, Arc.

Despite already knowing this truth, Isaac continued the search for his passions. And eventually, after years of searching, he had his miraculous encounter with the Silent Witch.

Isaac closed his eyes, now contemplating today’s play… ‘Bion, Bringer of Happiness.’

Although the play had deviated significantly from the original work, Pacireus also made an appearance. This said, his role was very different from the source material.

In the original, Pacireus kills his adoptive father out of revenge for mistreating him. But in this adaptation, Bion rescues Pacireus from the abuse of his adoptive father, and the two become great friends.

(A cheap plot development they added to fit a wider audience.)

Despite inwardly scoffing at how convenient the twist was, Isaac found himself feeling surprisingly relieved. Before he knew it, he had been absorbed in the play, wishing for salvation and a happy ending.

Which meant that he didn’t have the right to poke fun at the man shedding tears next to him.

“A great play… I enjoyed it,” Isaac whispered.

The play had been enjoyable, indeed, but only because Monica and Cyril were there with him.

“This is… my favorite story,” Cyril said in response, slowly raising his face. His nose and eyes were still red from crying.

“Yeah, because you’re the Bringer of Happiness to Marquis Highown.”

Isaac repeated the words he had once spoken to Cyril long ago, causing Cyril to put a confident smile on his teary face.

“Your words are what drove me to become who I am today.”

In truth, it was not the real prince who had said that to Cyril. However, Isaac refrained from commenting on that and just responded with a calm “I see.”

Cyril knew that Isaac was a fake, yet he still worked tirelessly to save Isaac from execution. Isaac did not want to ruin Cyril’s genuine goodwill and admiration.

(…Well, there is one thing though…)

Setting that matter aside, there was something Isaac absolutely had to tell Cyril, no matter what. In fact, he had sworn to speak up once the incident was settled, and now was that time.

“By the way, Cyril, you call Monica, Elliott, and Neil by their first names in private settings, right?”

“Y-Yes, since we have all graduated…”

“In that case, don’t you think there is a more appropriate way to address me?”

Cyril gasped in realization.

“I-I’m terribly sorry…!”

And so, Cyril mumbled softly, with the awkwardness typical of someone using an unaccustomed honorific…

“Your Excellency.”

That instant, Isaac honestly thought, “You little…” and, as if by reflex, he reached out his right hand to pinch Cyril’s left cheek with as much force as possible.

The blood drained from Cyril’s tear-stained face.

“M-My apologies, um, Duke Erin? …O-Ow… Your High…cellency.”

──Your Highcellency…?

This was on the same level as Monica’s “Y-Y-Your Highness” from days gone by.

“Um, well, t-that’s no good, right? …Then, um, let’s see… M-Mysterious Noble?”

Without a word, Isaac pinched Cyril’s remaining right cheek.

The weasels inside the bag exclaimed “Cyril is being bullied,” and “His cheeks are stretching,” but Isaac paid them no mind.

“Ike!? What are you doing to Cyril-sama!?”

Monica’s scream echoed from behind. She ran forward with wooden cups in both hands, and started pulling on Isaac’s coat after placing the cups on her seat.

The actions of his esteemed master were as cute as always, but unfortunately, this was one area where Isaac refused to back down.

“Ike! Stop! Waaaah!”

“Eh? What’s going on here?”

As Monica continued pulling on Isaac’s coat, the perplexed Raul asked the weasels in Cyril’s bag for an explanation. That said, the weasels didn’t seem to have a full understanding of the situation either.

“Cyril got scolded by His Excellency,” Pikeh explained.

“Don’t bully Cyril, Mysterious Noble,” Thule added.

Upon hearing the comments from the weasels, Isaac let out a small chuckle and released Cyril’s cheeks. Then, he firmly grasped the still confused Cyril’s right hand.

“My name is Isaac Walker and I am 22 years old. The person I respect most is the Silent Witch, Monica Everett. My hobbies include magical research and collecting the Silent Witch’s essays, and my favorite reading materials are various theses by the Silent Witch. Nice to meet you, Cyril Ashley.”

“T-Twenty-two? …Y-You’re… older…? Eh?!”

“Y-You’re three years older than me!?”

“Oh, so you’re a year older than me.”

Cyril and Monica gasped in utter shock, as Raul simply let out a casual mutter.

To be honest, Isaac didn’t give much thought to such minor age differences. More importantly, Isaac wanted Cyril to put serious thought into how he was going to address him.

(Otherwise, how can we compete as rivals if I’m still “Your Highness”?)

Pacireus wanted to stand on the same stage as Bion.

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