4 (3) â 17
From that point on, everything was oddly busy.
It was hard work cooking skewers for all those children. âArgh, I canât bear to look at this!â, Günter said in the meantime, and began to grill meat together beside Camilla.
âYou coarse girl! Do you even know what it means to be delicate with food!?â
âIâm coarse, you say!? Those eyes of yours must be painted on!â
âJust throwing such succulent meat on the grill haphazardly like that, how can you be anything but!? Argh, damn it! Iâll train you from scratch, lass!!â
âAre you saying these skewers arenât delicious!? I didnât need any instruction from you to do this much!!â
âSave the cheek for when you can actually outcook me! Youâll be regettinâ this when weâre back in the kitchen, ya hear!?â
As they kept up their usual screaming match whilst cooking those skewers for the children, the ones that had already received theirs began to walk towards the town square, chatting happily to one another.
After some time, the childrenâsâ mothers came.
They must have come looking for their children who had gone out to play. After finding their children in the plaza or wandering down the main street, they eventually found themselves at the stall as well after seeing what their children were eating, as if following the scent.
âSo there really was a festival going on after all, then? Itâs somewhat different to what I imagined it to be.â
As she said that, one of the mothers looked around the main street, with all of its busted and trampled stalls. Looking at the street, Camilla could only see it as vandalized, but perhaps people who had never seen a festival before might see it differently.
â...Those really do like quite delicious donât they? My kid also had one... Um...â
âAdults have to pay five pieces. Only kids get free food, right?â
The boy who had led his mother over by the hand said that with a proud grin. The mother seemed to be at a loss for a moment, but eventually gave in to her curiosity and bought one.
As they cooked it over the grill, another person came up to the stall. Günterâs plan of attracting customers through smell may have paid off after all.
Some of the people approached the stall out of sheer curiosity. And after some time, that curiosity would turn into custom. Eventually, the stream of curiosity seekers and customers became a torrent.
âOne please.â
At the call, Camilla repeated the price, something sheâd lost count of how many times sheâd said.
âThey are five Licht coppers each.â
âOh? They cost money?â
When she raised her head at the sound of that stingy voice, she saw a face she knew staring into the stall. It wasnât the sort of person she was expecting, being a pale and elderly man. His white hair was disheveled and the clothes he wore little more than rags. As she looked at the destitute looking old man, Camilla felt the words leave her lips before she could think.
âYou, youâre Klausâ poetry teacher, arenât you?â
The root of all evil. He was the one who had originally requested Klaus solve the issue of the underground music that disturbed him.
âI remember you. You were with Klaus, werenât you? Iâll take three then. Ifân ya donât mind.â
âDo you have any money? Buying three wouldnât be cheap for you, would it? You can have it for free.â
It was easy to tell that the old man was someone in need just by looking at him. People who live for the sake of their passion usually find it hard to earn a living. All the more so in Mohnton, a land that scorns such things, there was no way he would have any money.
âDonât treat me like a charity case. Iâve already paid for three in advance. Iâll take two more as well, Iâll sort something out to pay for those as well.â
He was also incredibly stubborn.
âYouâre a troublesome fellow, arenât you!? Well, in that case... So be it. One of your songs, then. In exchange, Iâll make you as many as you like.â
âOne of my songs? Alright, then. Iâll give you another of my songs.â
Saying that, the old man glanced back at the square.
The bubbling noise of the children had calmed down a little bit. It seemed like Klaus was the one singing now. Then, with a final wave, he gave up his position on the stage.
And the one who walked up to replace him was... Victor. He took a deep breath, a hand on his chest, then took up his violin.
âThat god awful din sure has come a long way, hasnât it?â
As the old man received his skewers from Camilla, a smile spread across that stubborn face as he headed towards the square.
ã
Victor had gone up onto the stage.
Dieter, Finne and Otto had all left as well.
In that tent, in the corner of the square, only Verrat and Mia were left.
As she hugged her knees to her chest, Verratâs breathing stayed shallow.
â Iâm going now.
When he was invited by Klaus, who had been singing on the stage all that time, Victor decided to take to the stage himself. But when he said that to Verrat, she didnât even raise her face to look at him.
â My violin, thank you for not breaking it... Your feelings, Iâm sorry I canât return them. But, still, thank you.
Even when Victor had said that, Verrat still couldnât raise her head. As Victor left, and the others followed him, she still stayed in the same position.
â Vera, weâre going too.
Dieter called out to Verrat before leaving.
â You should come along as well, when you can. Cause, yâknow, Miss Nicole will get tired soon as well... and we all like your singing.
No one hurled their frustrations at Verrat. They didnât say anything about her ruining the day or breaking their instruments.
But even though they tried to comfort her, Verrat couldnât bear to see them.
Nearby, she heard a sigh.
Without raising her face, she knew it came from Mia. There wasnât anyone else in the tent at all. Just what kind of eyes was Mia looking at Verrat with? She didnât want to know.
In the distance, she could hear Victorâs violin. The noise of the square seemed so far away.
â...I donât feel sorry for you at all.â
In the tent that felt cut off from the outside world, Mia sounded as if she were speaking to herself.
âI knew you loved Victor. I knew youâd always loved him for the longest time. But, I wonât hand him over to you. Thatâs because I love Victor as well.â
Even though she couldnât see it, she could feel Miaâs gaze. Those hard words she sent Verratâs way didnât have an inch of the sympathy that her friends had.
âWhat you did was despicable. Doing something like that, how could you ever capture Victorâs heart? Lashing out just to hurt people, then making it seem like youâre the one who was hurt the most, I canât stand to see it.â
Verrat hugged her knees even more tightly. She had nothing she could say. Those words were painful to hear.
âEven though the people you hurt are trying to reach out to you, youâre still acting like the victim, itâs unsightly... Honestly, just really unsightly. Youâre making those people who are worried about you look like the biggest fools.â
Mia breathed out an angry sigh. Unsightly. Verrat felt her shoulders jump at the word. It was like a direct assault on the pride she had carried herself with all this time.
She had always worn her heart on her sleeve and been proud of it. She always thought she carried herself with grace. When she found out that Victor and Mia had gotten engaged, she wished them happiness without letting her feelings show.
Jealousy was ugly. Clinging to him would be wretched. She didnât want to be like Camilla from the stories. She wanted to be cool, admirable and graceful.
But, that wasnât truly Verrat.
âYou played music with Victor, you were his precious friend. When I thought about how you were experiencing something with him that I couldnât, I was disgusted at how jealous I felt. I was miserable.â
â...I was hurting as well.â
She was alive. She had feelings. So, it was only natural that she was hurt. Verrat managed to squeeze out her voice.
âI know that. You wouldnât be human, otherwise.â
Mia exhaled. She still looked straight at Verrat.
But Verrat didnât realize the envy in that gaze.
âYou were always so cool. Even if you were hurt, you still stayed proud and calm. When I saw how much Victor admired you, I was jealous.â
Love, pain, grief, hatred... those sorts of emotions were all natural. They were impossible to just will away. Everyone has to come to terms with them, either face to face or within themselves.
They might become unsightly and clingy, or anxious and insecure, or lose themselves to jealousy or hatred.
But Verrat chose not to confront her feelings and remained proud. She didnât accept anyone elseâs sympathy, nor did she ever let her pain show.
That was the cool Verrat that Mia had always envied.
âSo, are you going to stay like this forever?â
Mia asked her.
As she hugged her knees, Verrat bit her lip. Tears began to stain her skirt.
Crying like this wasnât cool at all.
But, running away from her friends just to hide her tears, that was even worse.
ã
Following the children, more and more people began to gather in the square and even the cooks and peddlers whose stalls had been destroyed were beginning to filter back.
As the younger vigilantes began to rebuild the broken stalls apologetically, trade began to flow down the main street. After that, even more people began to gather.
Thanks to that, Camillaâs stall also stayed busy.
Before anyone knew it, the street was chock full of people.
The children were louder than anyone. After Nicole stepped off the stage after a while, the young musicians began to play their broken instruments, ever so slightly off-key.
Amongst the music, a smooth yet strong singing voice echoed. At the sound of the song that no one in the crowd had heard before, applause broke out.
In one corner of the square, a group of people swept up in the mood began to dance. Someone who liked the song tried to sing along. Those happy voices trailed up into the sky, as if heralding the beginning of spring.
But, Camilla, who was busier than ever cooking with Günter in the stall, didnât know about any of that.