Chapter 48

After the incident where I threw a tantrum that seemed to be beyond reason, the servants in the mansion have become unusually kind to me. They watch me play with Ryu with a smile, and even give me candy, telling me to keep it a secret from Patrick. I’m being treated like a child. I can’t help but wonder why I have to accept charity at my age, as I ponder this while putting the candy in my mouth.

To find out what’s going on among the servants, I decided to talk to Rita. Since then, Rita hasn’t changed, for better or worse. I had hoped that seeing my embarrassing behavior would disperse her loyalty, but she’s still the same as ever.

While munching on a sweet cream-filled bread, I say, “What’s going on? I don’t know what to do with all these sweets.”

“Swallow before you speak,” Rita replies.

“Hold on, I have five more. Ah, Rita, do you want one?”

“...I’ll wait as long as it takes, but no, thank you.”

I finish eating in less than a minute and ask Rita again, “So, why is everyone being so nice to me?”

“It all started with the recent incident. Your tantrum while lying on the floor was the final straw.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“It’s Patrick. He’s been telling everyone stories about you whenever he gets the chance. It seems he’s been doing this since before I arrived.”

I knew Patrick and the servants got along well, but I had no idea he was telling stories about me. This has happened before. When I was suspected of being a demon king during my school days, he used to tell Prince Edwin stories about me.

I understand his intentions. He’s trying to clear up the misunderstandings about me. I’m truly grateful, but at the same time, it’s frustrating that I can’t convey who I am to others. If that’s the case, I can understand this situation...

Just then, two maids pass by the corridor in front of the room. Their casual conversation drifts into my ears involuntarily.

“Huh? So you broke the window and jumped out because you were embarrassed?”

“That’s what I heard. Poor Patrick.”

“But isn’t that more embarrassing than what happened before? If you can do that, you can do anything, right?”

“Well, that’s Yumiera for you.”

The memory of breaking the window and thrashing on the floor flashes back. I still can’t accept it. I need a drink to get through this. I’ve never had alcohol before. At school parties, juice was always available, and at the recent duke’s party, I didn’t even drink anything.

Suddenly, my interest in this unknown drink grew, so I went to find Patrick.

“Have you ever had alcohol, Patrick?”

“Yes, but why the sudden question?”

I’ve found a minor who has had alcohol. However, there’s no legal drinking age in this country. Of course, it’s not good for young children to drink.

“I thought I might try a little.”

“...I see. I’ll prepare it. Tonight.”

Patrick’s expression became slightly sharper as he left the room. Preparation... he’s just going to buy alcohol, right?

◆ ◆ ◆

That night, Patrick and I left the mansion and walked slowly through the streets of Darkness. I thought he had made a reservation somewhere, but we seemed to be heading out of town.

“Hey, where are we going?”

“Just follow me.”

He was more forceful than usual and extended his left hand to me...?

“I’m not carrying anything dangerous.”

“...I know.”

We walked under the night sky, exchanging puzzled glances. We eventually reached the outskirts of town and walked through a grassy field swaying in the wind. When we arrived, there was—

“...Beautiful.”

In the middle of an empty field, there was a round table and two chairs. On the table were a bottle of chilled wine and glasses, along with a plate of simple appetizers. Above them, the full moon and countless stars shone brightly, creating a scene that felt like a slice of the world, utterly enchanting.

“Since this is Yumiera’s first drink, I thought I’d do something special.”

He’s such a romantic. I’m not a romantic person, but this is... overwhelming. I couldn’t take my eyes off the dreamlike scene, but then I turned to Patrick. He had a gentle smile, the one I love so much, and said,

“This way, even if you get drunk and act out, there’s nothing to break.”

...What?

Despite his concern about my bad drinking habits, I didn’t think it was necessary. Alcohol is essentially a type of drug or poison. I have a strong resistance to such things, so I might not get drunk.

I sat down in the chair, and he handed me the thinnest glass from a selection. I wanted a mug like a small wooden barrel for a pretend adventure, but beer and ale are supposed to be bitter, so this might be better. Patrick picked up a bottle and tried to open it.

“What kind of alcohol is that?”

“It’s champagne. It’s easy to drink, even for a first-timer—”

The moment he said champagne, I ducked under the table. It’s dangerous; champagne corks can fly out like bullets when opened, and the contents can gush out like a fountain.

“...What are you doing now?”

“Champagne explodes, right? In school, we were taught to hide under the table during earthquakes and when opening champagne.”

“We weren’t taught that.”

Soon, I heard a soft pop above me, and I cautiously crawled out. Patrick had already poured champagne into the glasses.

“Maybe I overreacted?”

“Yeah, but I’m used to it.”

He’s used to people being scared of champagne. I feel relieved knowing I’m not the only one.

I sat back down and admired the golden liquid in the glass, shimmering in the moonlight. It’s so elegant to drink a sophisticated drink in a romantic setting with someone I like. Is this what it feels like to be so happy?

“To your health.”

“To your health.”

We clinked our glasses together, and the sweet liquid flowed into my mouth—

“Cough, cough, ugh.”

I coughed violently. Patrick quickly came to my side and patted my back. I wiped my mouth with the handkerchief he gave me, thinking, I can’t drink carbonated drinks.

“Are you okay? If the alcohol doesn’t agree with you—”

“It’s not the alcohol, it’s the fizz.”

My faint memory of alcohol was ruined by carbon dioxide. Maybe I should have avoided it.

I decided to try a different drink, but Patrick looked worried.

“I’m fine! How about wine? It doesn’t have fizz, right?”

“Do you want white?”

“Red.”

When it comes to wine, red is the way to go. The beautiful crimson liquid swayed in the glass, and the decadent floral aroma filled the air. Pouring this enticing nectar into my body—

“Ugh.”

I made a grimace. What is this? It’s astringent and sour, like it’s rotten. Fortunately, I’m not rotten, and I have no taste for rotten things.

“Is this rotten?”

“That’s how it is. It’s better to eat some appetizers with it.”

Patrick ate some cheese and drank the wine. I followed suit, but the taste didn’t change. Cheese and grape juice are definitely better. Compared to potions, wine isn’t as bad, but it doesn’t have any restorative properties.

“Hmm, I can drink it if I have to.”

“I thought I chose a smooth one. White is usually easier to drink.”

Patrick suggested white wine. I was leaning towards white anyway, as I didn’t trust the red, which seemed to be at room temperature. Red is rotten.

The golden hue of the white wine was more calming, with a fresh, fruity aroma... but I decided to stop. I wouldn’t enjoy the taste anyway. I took a big sip. White wine has a smooth throat feel.

“...Huh? I can drink it normally.”

Is it delicious...? I’m not sure, so I sipped the remaining half slowly. I threw a cracker with ham into my mouth and took another sip of wine.

“This might be good.”

“I’m glad.”

We raised our glasses again and enjoyed the quiet time together. I still don’t understand the feeling of being drunk. My resistance seems to recognize alcohol as a poison. I can’t erase my memories, but I’m content with this wonderful time. When I asked for a third glass, he stopped me.

“It’s your first time, so maybe you should stop. I can get you some juice—”

“I’m not drunk, so I’m fine.”

Despite his concern, Patrick refilled my glass. He’s so worried, but that’s one of the things I like about him. I’m starting to feel more cheerful. My mood is soaring.

“Hehe, hey, Patrick.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to call you.”

It’s so much fun. I feel light and elated, and my mouth corners rise involuntarily. My facial muscles are alive.

I smiled and stared at Patrick. His green eyes reflected a bit of light.

“We’ve known each other for quite a while, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, I’m really glad I met you, Patrick.”

“...I see. Well, about that, um, you know.”

Patrick took a small black box from his pocket. I couldn’t imagine what was inside. He was unusually nervous, his gaze wandering, and his tension was endearing. He looked at me with determination. Just looking at each other made me happy. I let my feelings flow freely.

“Patrick, I really like you.”

“Wha...”

Patrick became flustered again. Just saying my feelings aloud filled me with a sense of well-being. I couldn’t stop laughing.

“Let’s laugh together. You know, drunk people always say they’re not drunk.”

“Everyone says that.”

“I know, I know. It’s embarrassing, isn’t it?”

I have a few memories of drunk people denying their drunkenness. Why can’t they see themselves objectively? Even if their judgment is dulled by alcohol, why can’t they stop drinking before it gets to that point? I should keep track of how much I drink.

While pouring another glass of wine, I thought about this.

“So, what’s in the box? Candy? A candy box?”

“This is...”

“Unfair! You’re going to eat it all by yourself!”

“Ah, this... let’s stop for today.”

The more he tries to hide it, the more curious I become. I tried to grab it, but my outstretched hand went in the wrong direction. When did Patrick start leaving afterimages?

“Huh?”

“Stop drinking. Do you want some water?”

“No way! Are you trying to take away my drink too? Do you dislike me that much?”

“Sigh, I like you.”

He said it with a sigh. Hehe, he likes me. I like him too.

“Then, how much do you like me? How big is your love?”

“You’re becoming annoying.”

“...Do you dislike me?”

Being called annoying, tears welled up in my eyes and fell into the glass. Patrick sighed.

“I like you, so stop crying.”

“I’m a troublesome woman... Isn’t that the most troublesome thing a woman can say?”

“This question is more troublesome.”

His hand enveloped mine. I gripped it back to feel more of his warmth.

“I don’t mean to be this way, but it would be nice if you were more honest.”

“I’m always like this. Is something different?”

“...What do you think of me?”

“I really like you.”

What a no-brainer. My feelings haven’t changed. Patrick covered his face with his free hand.

“It would be better if you said that when you’re sober.”

“I can, but... isn’t it a bit self-centered to ask how I feel about you? It’s embarrassing, but I like you, so it’s okay.”

“...Aren’t you being too extreme?”

I tried to pour another drink, but my other hand was caught by him. I wanted to drink a bit more, but holding hands with him was even better. The fun feeling wasn’t from the alcohol but from being with Patrick.

We spent time looking at each other. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable.

“Let’s go back soon.”

When the full moon reached its zenith, Patrick stood up and said. I got off the chair... but the ground was shaking. I stumbled, but he caught me. I felt lazy about walking.

“Carry me.”

Patrick silently picked me up. I wrapped my arms around his neck and clung to him. Our faces were the closest they’ve ever been. There was only one thing to do.

“Look at me.”

“What is it?”

I aimed for his face looking down at me... I don’t know what Patrick’s reaction was. I fell asleep in his arms.

◆ ◆ ◆

I woke up to the ceiling in my room. I held my aching head and sat up.

“...Was it a dream?”

I had a vivid dream. I confessed my feelings to him and even made the first move... Such an unrealistic thing couldn’t happen. Still, I admire my dream self. It’s no use thinking about it in my heart. I wish I could tell Patrick I like him, just like in the dream.

Just then, there was a knock on the door, and Patrick’s voice came through.

“Yumiera, are you awake? Can I come in?”

“Sure! Come in.”

Patrick entered with a tray of a water pitcher and a glass. I felt my face heat up thinking about the dream. He offered me water and said,

“Do you remember what happened yesterday?”

“...Yesterday? What are you talking about?”

“If you don’t remember, it’s fine.”

Huh? It was a dream, but maybe it wasn’t? I instinctively said I didn’t remember and probed further.

“What did I do yesterday?”

“We drank together. You really don’t remember?”

It wasn’t a dream. I looked down at my clothes, which were the same as yesterday. I lied without thinking. I continued to pretend I didn’t remember.

“Hmm, I think so? Did I get drunk and act out?”

“...You fell asleep after one sip. You should avoid alcohol in the future.”

Patrick, you liar. If his lie was a kind one, what was mine? A lie to avoid something? I just decided to tell him my feelings.

“I understand. I won’t drink alcohol.”

“Good. You might not be feeling well, so lie down a bit more.”

Did he believe my lie or let me off? Patrick tried to leave the room. I got out of bed and followed him. As he was about to close the door, he noticed me and stopped.

He opened the door again, and I slammed it shut.

“Wait!”

“What is it?”

We talked through the door. I couldn’t look him in the eye directly, but I felt I could do it with a wooden barrier between us. I gripped the doorknob tightly to keep the door from opening.

“I like you.”

“...I like you too.”

I heard him walking away on the other side of the door. I finally said it. I might have conveyed it indirectly before, but this was the first time I said “I like you” directly.

“I need to be able to say it without a door between us. I need to break the door.”

I muttered to myself, and there was a crack. Looking at my hand, the doorknob was broken. I didn’t mean to break it, but it’s a metaphor for love.

It’s like a romance novel.

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