I blink in surprise at that call. The crying voice becomes distant, receding. Blink, blink. I blink twice again, and my sleepiness goes away as well. Suzette isnât my name. But I know the only person who calls me Suzette.
ãââSir Celves?ã
ãWhat are you doing in a place like this?ã
In front of my wide open eyes stood the young man Celves Sin Ronein, clad in a black robe, looking at me with those deep blue eyes. His shapely features, like a noble youthâs, were frowning dubiously.
âHuh?â I suddenly remember my current state, and hurriedly hide the basket on the table behind my back.
ãUm, Iâ¦â¦ã
How could I lie to get out of this one? Those eyes the color of the ocean stare at me piercingly, big and beautiful, calculating. They lock onto the basket Iâm hiding. A cold sweat runs down my back.
Well, what is Sir Celves doing here in the first place? But that reminds me, this is close to the Black Lotus Court. As the robe he wears signifies, heâs one of the wizards that work in the Black Lotus Court just like that man. Itâs not strange for him to come here to rest for his lunch break. Now that itâs come to this, thereâs nothing left for me to do but curse my bad luck for running into him.
As I fumble with my words, he walks around to my back, still frowning. I canât help but raise my voice, ãAh!ã Before I can stop him, Celves picks up the basket I was hiding behind me and peeks inside.
ãWhatâs this?ã
It was a frank way of speaking, as if to say âI wonât let you talk your way out of this.â I can do nothing but smile sheepishly. Ah, when he does things like this, he really is just like that man. That must be why I canât go against him.
ãâ¦â¦Itâs something I made for lunch.ã
ãYou?ã
At my response, Celves blinks in surprise. Itâs right then that it happens. A low grumble comes from Celvesâs stomach.
After a short period of silence, Celvesâs white face starts to turn red before my eyes. Taken aback, I canât help but cover my mouth at the laughter thatâs slowly building up within me. But that laughter just canât possibly be contained by my hands, bursting out from between my fingers. Now that itâs come to this, thereâs no point in holding back my laughter anymore.
ãâDonât laugh!ã
ãI-Iâm so-sorryâ¦â¦!ã
Even though I say that, the laughter Iâve burst into once just canât stop. I keep endlessly giggling, and Celves glares at me. But his face, red with shyness, has not a single bit of force or anything in it.
As I canât stop laughing, tears appear at the corner of my eyes. Wiping them with my fingers, I ask Celves a question as he puts the basket back on the table.
ãI have to apologize for laughing. So if you like, how about we have it together?ã
It seems like my words were rather unexpected for him, his deep blue eyes opening wide.
ãâ¦â¦Is that okay?ã
Looking at the basket and at me, he says that as if trying to guess my reaction. His voice is bewildered, so unlike him. Itâs rather similar to when he replied to me the other day, when I concernedly asked him about his pale color. I nod at him, moving from the center of the bench to the right side so he can easily sit down.
ãYes. Itâs not just one portion in the first place.ã
ãNo, Iâmâ¦â¦ã
ãTo be honest, I donât think I can eat it all by myself. I donât know if itâll suit your taste, but it would greatly help me if you could eat it with me.ã
I add all that as Celves hesitates, about to refuse. I smile to make sure, and he twists his face as if embarrassed.
It must be some kind of fate that I met Celves here. Judging from his appearance, heâs empty-handed and thereâs no signs of him having anything to eat â itâs all just perfect. Iâm not going to stand letting him escape now.
Whether he knows my intentions or not, he silently sits down beside me. When I take out a sandwich from the basket and hand it to him, he takes it from me surprisingly carefully. I thought heâd eat it just like that, but instead he stares fixedly at it for some reason.
ãâ¦â¦Although I canât guarantee it tastes good, for now, I havenât put any poison in there, you know?ã
ãAre you an idiot? Who said that?ã
At my words, Celves glares at me sullenly. Itâs so rude to call me an idiot. He just seemed like he was being very timid about eating it, so I just told him there wasnât any poison in it. I accidentally said it with the same tone as when I talk to that man, but was it really inappropriate?
As if noticing my troubled gaze, Celves seems to resolve himself and takes a big bite out of the sandwich. He silently chews and swallows, just as I did before, and then murmurs:
ãâ¦â¦Itâs delicious.ã
ãThank you.ã
Those words were nonchalant, as if unaffected, but they were the utmost words of praise for me.
I canât help but feel happy, presenting more sandwiches in front of Celves. When a child says something pleasing to a grandmother, she will end up wanting to pamper the child more.
ãPlease eat as much as you like, thereâs still a lot left.ã
Saying that, I take out the half-eaten sandwich Iâd put back in earlier and bring it to my mouth. Hmmm, it really is delicious. Good job, if I do say so myself.
Right now, the sleepiness and anxiety I felt before Celves called out to me have completely been swept away. Just what was that? I only see that nightmare at night, has it now started slowly creeping up when I doze off in the afternoon too? If so, the situation is grave now. Iâm coming and going to the library to try and do something about it, but far from getting better, itâs actually getting worse. Itâs no laughing matter.
I swallow down the sigh thatâs about to come out, along with the sandwich. I sneak a fleeting sidelong glance at Celves to see him silently eating a sandwich, starting on his second one before I realize it. It seems he greatly likes them.
ãSuzette.ã
ãYes?ã
Temporarily stopping his chewing, the young man looks at me with his deep blue eyes.
ãSo youâre an aristocrat.ã
If you werenât, they wouldnât let you come in here. If you were a maid working here, you would be wearing your uniform from the palace. There arenât many people who can come so close to the Black Lotus Court in a plain dress.
Iâm told all that as if heâs making sure, and I feel my smile freeze. Iâm at a loss for words. I have no reply to give him. Itâs exactly as he says.
I had only given my fake first name to Celves. To him, I was probably just a commoner. I didnât mean to deceive him, but I canât deny that itâs turned out like that in the end.
ãYes, I have my name entered in the smallest aristocrats, more or less. Iâm sorry forâ¦â¦ã
ãNo, itâs alright. I knew it. Everyone can tell from your behavior that youâre from a good family.ã
Reaching out for his third sandwich, Celves says that with an expression as if itâs an old topic now. Really, heâs eating like he greatly enjoys them.
ãâ¦â¦Is that so?ã
ãYes.ã
âââThat reminds me.
That reminds me, did I forget that this man is also one of the grand aristocrat families? Celvesâs surname is Ronein, which he hasnât told me about. One of the grandest aristocrat families among the grand aristocrats, next only to the Valentine family. By all rights, heâs a person I wouldnât even be able to talk to, just like Lunamerie.
It mustâve been easy for him to tell my social position from my behavior. But despite that, he didnât say anything for me. Both of us hadnât questioned the other about social status. But, even so.
ãSir Celves.ã
ãWhat?ã
ãThank you.ã
He furrows his brows as if to ask, âwhat for?â Smiling at him, I too bring the sandwich to my mouth again.
In the end, most of the sandwiches end up in Celvesâs stomach. Just like that, we part in the arbor. I donât feel like going back to the library so I return to the estate that is my home. I make dinner, more fired up than usual, and then wait for that man to come home like usual.
He returns home unusually early, at a time thatâs considered the proper ãdinnertimeã by the worldâs standards.
ãWelcome home.ã
ãâ¦â¦Iâm home.ã
We greet each other with those same old but irreplaceable words, and I look after the black robe heâs taken off. Itâs soft and feels pleasant whenever I touch it; I fold it up, being careful not to let any wrinkles form. For some reason, I feel eyes on me from above.
ãEdi? Is something wrong?ã
Those sunrise-colored eyes stare at me fixedly, wavering at my question. I stare up at him fixedly in return. After ten-odd seconds of locking eyes, holding the silence feels difficult. But the one that opens their mouth first is not me, but him.
ãArenât you angry?ã
ãAbout what?ã
I tilt my head in confusion as he doesnât mention about what. Those sunrise-colored eyes blink, then fill with a bitter light.
ãâ¦â¦About what happened at lunch.ã
ãOh, about that? No, not really.ã
Since it couldnât be helped, thereâs no need to get angry. Thinking that, I smile, and he suddenly furrows his brows. Why is he making that face even though I said Iâm not angry? How unreasonable. Wouldnât it be most satisfactory for him if I wasnât angry?
Or perhaps, does he want to anger me? I feel angrier at his attitude now than in the day. I look up at that beautiful face, famed as a night fairy, as if challenging him.
ãWell then, what would you do if I said I was angry?ã
ãThatâsâ¦â¦ã
Heâs at a loss for words just like that, not saying anything further. See, didnât I tell you? What happened in the day just couldnât be helped. I dare say thatâs the best way to deal with it. Because if we look deeper into this, I may have only been bringing him lunch, but it was my fault for intruding without an appointment.
So itâs fine. Thatâs what I tell to myself. As a wife, I smile at my husband who isnât saying anything.
ãItâs alright, I understand. It canât be helped.ã
ãBut how long should we continue this thing that âcanât be helpedâ?ã
I want to say that, but my mouth just wouldnât move.