Chapter 232: Malice (4)
Dance.
For a noble of the Empire, or for any child born into a house with a name worth mentioning, it was counted among the essential virtues of society.
There was a time when I had been far too obsessed with it, but in its nature it was not so different from swordsmanship.
The movement of the feet. The tension running up the spine. The arc traced by the fingertips. The process by which every ‘line’ the body forms gathers together and completes itself into a single beauty.
But dance is never something one can do alone.
The person standing before me.
The person whose hand clasps mine.
The person who leans in, who shares their weight.
There has to be a partner to share breath with, even with masks and all.
Because it is an art made together.
Only, before my Regression, I had been arrogant. I forced my dance upon my partners, chasing nothing but splendor while I trampled their rhythm underfoot.
It was not, at the very least, the way of a noble.
“……You’ve got talent, Eli.”
Charlotte Grossman, holding my hand.
She whispered softly.
“Listen to the sound of my feet first. Don’t just force yourself to copy me. Let the flow carry you.”
She was a true noble.
Different from her elder brother, Kurt Grossman, and different from me, who had committed murder beyond counting. A genuine noble who had kept the dignity of her soul intact.
“Once you’re matching my steps, you’ll start to see the parts where the same movement repeats. After all, a dance is just a promise you repeat.”
I stepped along, letting her lead. Even the flourishes that had seemed difficult were, in the end, only fragments of a repeating rhythm.
“If you’re used to the repetition now, lift your head and look me in the eye. Don’t hide behind the mask.”
Belatedly I raised my gaze and looked into her eyes. Beyond the silver mask, golden pupils gathered like stars.
A question came to me.
Born into one of the finest bloodlines in the Empire, why did she help the powerless? Why were her eyes so full of hope?
What was it that she saw, that let her hold light in this rotting Empire?
“You’re doing well. Now it finally feels like dancing.”
Charlotte gave a faint smile. My feet, mingling with hers, moved smoothly.
“Well then.”
Abruptly, she let go of my hand.
“Go enjoy yourself with other people now~”
She waved gracefully and drifted away from me, walking off with quick little steps toward the higher tier of the banquet hall, up to the seats of honor set apart even from first class.
Beyond her, a face I knew took shape like a shadow.
A man looking down over the crowd with a wineglass in hand─ Viktor Haim.
His gaze moved on me for a moment, then moved to Charlotte as she took the seat across from him.
* * *
In the dim small hours, with the heat of the ball not yet cooled.
Halbert Goering, having extracted himself from that noisy place, flung the counterfeit pocket watch onto the bed of his deluxe suite and huffed.
“Find the bastard who sold me this piece of shit and fuck him up. The second we’re back in the Empire, I’ll blow his family to smithereens.”
“…….”
The elite agent of the Imperial Direct Agency who had followed him in, ‘Nils’, examined the watch without a word.
“To dare humiliate me! He made me play the clown in front of that filthy Merin!”
“……So the real and the fake can be told apart that clearly. Fascinating.”
“That’s what Master Grade means, I suppose.”
Nils raised an eyebrow, indifferent.
“But Lord Goering, do you truly believe what that Merin said? They’re a waste of a species, no better than Ezenheim. To my eye, the very words coming out of his mouth look like forgeries.”
Halbert turned to him, frowning.
“What do you mean by that?”
“No, well…… why complicate it? Just talk him around, that’s all it takes. Make him write up a single appraisal saying ‘this watch is a flawless original’. Then you can hand it off to some other sucker later at full price.”
Halbert’s expression brightened in an odd way.
“……Word that it’s a fake has already gone all through the lounge by now, hasn’t it?”
“The Appraiser was at sea, so he wasn’t in top condition. Something along those lines should do it. And more importantly, Lord Goering. Why do you suppose that Appraiser bastard boarded this Titan in the first place?”
“What, business or sightseeing, surely. He’s Master Grade, so he must have made some money.”
“No.”
Nils cut him off coldly.
“He’s fleeing the Empire. Ever since the「Imperial Citizenship Law」took effect, those creatures have been watching for any chance to slip away without paying their taxes.”
“……What?”
A deep furrow cut into Halbert’s brow.
“Then, then what do we do? Should we detain him now?”
“They’ll all be rounded up by the time this ship reaches port anyway. The Direct Agency has already traced the money launderers tied to the Alchemia incident, and they’ve identified the relevant parties aboard the Titan. It’s a case that’s drawn the Sentinel’s attention, so……”
“I heard about that too. That knight of the Ebenholtz appeared as counsel himself, they say?”
Halbert Goering, as a part of the collateral branch of a distinguished house, ran a solid business of his own and enjoyed wealth and splendor second to none, sheltered by the Imperial Guard.
But before the Ebenholtz, he was nothing more than a candle flame.
“Yes. The sums Sir Maximilian hands out in support are famous enough. Right now the Empire’s agents will have fire in their eyes trying to catch those tails.”
Nils gazed out the window at the night sea and raised an eyebrow.
“So don’t trouble yourself, Lord. Once we’re on land, we’ll have him write the appraisal there.”
“……Ahem. Well. If it’s your suggestion, I won’t refuse. Hm, ahem, ahahaha!”
* * *
The following morning.
I lay on the bed in second class, looking up at the white ceiling.
A long, slow gliding sound—
Feeling the movement of the vessel through my body, I waited, vacantly, for the appointed ‘time’.
Knock knock—.
I rose at the sound that broke the quiet.
“……?”
I tilted my head and opened the door to find an unexpected guest standing there.
“Will you show me around third class?”
“……Pardon?”
It was Charlotte. Dressed in simple traveling clothes, she smiled with curiosity in her eyes.
“I just mean, let’s go have some fun together.”
There was no pretext by which I could refuse so bold a proposal.
I will say it again, in this Empire, pretext is what matters most…….
I went down the stairs to the lower decks with her.
Around the time the lavish carpet gave way to bare, cold steel flooring.
I asked the question that had been nagging at me all along.
“Are you and Shannon Wright involved romantically, by any chance?”
Ezenheim are skilled at exploiting human emotion.
If she were someone dancing in Viktor Haim’s palm, if even her greatness of character had been fabricated by Ezenheim-
Charlotte stared blankly at me. Then she burst out laughing.
“Not remotely…… look over there.”
She cut off and pointed to a corner of the third-class mess. There, the third-class passengers were clustered together. Charlotte narrowed her eyes at a crude steel can sitting on the table.
“How do you eat this?”
To her it must have been an unfamiliar object, but to me it was a fragment of reality.
I hooked the ring on the can and peeled the lid back in one go.
A lump of meat reeking of fishy grease, the kind I had eaten until I was sick of it during my fugitive days before my Regression.
“……This might be a bit much for me?”
A small bead of sweat formed at Charlotte’s temple.
“It’s more edible than you’d think.”
There is a dish that suits even a can like this. Take one of the loaves lying around on the shelf, the ones with the texture of a tire, pile on an overflowing amount of cheese, then spread this meat and some strawberry jam over the top and.
“No. Why are you putting strawberry jam on it?! This is insane!”
The combination must have struck her as grotesque, because Charlotte recoiled, but I held it out without flinching.
“You talk too much.”
“Excuse me?”
“……I mean, you’ll understand once you try it. It needs the sweetness. Let yourself be fooled just this once.”
“I don’t see why I should let myself be fooled-“
I pushed the bread at her mouth. She scrunched up her whole face and took a bite. As she chewed, her eyes widened slightly.
“……This is kind of good?”
“I told you. Cooking is about the ingredients, sure, but the combination matters more.”
I learned it from a homeless man once.
The homeless were my teachers.
Even ingredients that taste terrible, that are practically garbage, will give you something halfway decent if you mix them the right way.
“As long as you’re alive, you can find fun anywhere.”
I took a bite of the bread myself.
Old memories flickered faintly on my tongue.
“……Amazing.”
Charlotte looked at me with a strange expression, and.
Tick—.
Above the kitchen of the third-class mess.
Tick—.
A watch mounted on the grease-stained wall.
Tick—.
Listening to that grating sound, I thought about the moment that was not far off now.
* * *
The third day of the voyage.
The Titan had left the Empire’s territorial waters completely behind.
The air on the upper decks was still feverish. In the Prestige Lounge, high-stakes gambling and tedious formal dinners followed one after another, and everywhere, whispers and romances that would not last more than a few days came into bloom.
The families in second class enjoyed the scenery and the Titan itself. There was a coziness to them.
Third class was wretched compared to the decks above, and yet it overflowed with life and vitality. When they looked out at the distant horizon, their faces always sank into imagination, as though they were dreaming of something.
“…….”
Charlotte looked toward the bow of the ship. A handsome, delicate-featured young man and a girl who looked like a noble lady stood side by side, seemingly admiring the sea.
Dressed in a jacket and trousers she could move in, she wandered the decks taking everything in, and as night drew on she sat down in a corner of the shipboard bar.
“One drink, please. Anything strong.”
Someone slid naturally into the seat beside her.
Shannon Wright. Viktor Haim.
“A ‘Draconian’.”
Avoiding the bartender’s line of sight, Viktor pushed a note under the table. Charlotte read it right there.
[ From the wiretap results, a large arrest unit from the Imperial Direct Agency is waiting at the final destination. ]
“……Careless.”
Viktor, apparently displeased with her, drained his glass in one go.
“I’d rather you didn’t get the wrong idea. I’m not on your side.”
Revolution and the like meant nothing to Charlotte. She had no interest in it. She pursued only what she herself believed to be right.
“…….”
Viktor emptied the glass he’d been handed and smiled bitterly.
“That’s a shame. You were my first love.”
The bartender turned away, pretending not to hear, and polished a glass, while Charlotte answered without even looking at him.
“Too late. I don’t like busy men.”
“……Right. It’s been far too long since I was anything but busy.”
Viktor Haim murmured it bitterly and rose from his seat. Over his shoulder, a man who hadn’t been there a moment ago came into view.
Eli Zella. He’d ordered a cheap wine and was sipping at it, and he kept sneaking glances this way.
“Carry on.”
As Viktor Haim withdrew, Eli’s gaze followed him naturally.
Before long, that gaze returned to Charlotte herself.
“Hello?”
“Ah, yes.”
Eli nodded stiffly.
“Mind if I ask you something?”
Charlotte moved to the seat beside him first. Eli looked flustered, but he answered anyway.
“Yes, please, go ahead.”
“Can you appraise something like this? It’s liquor.”
She drew a bottle from inside her jacket and held it out.
“Oh.”
It was the bartender who reacted first. A special vintage from Jackallan, called one of the finest liquors in the world. Traoma 60-Year.
“Hmm…….”
Eli took a monocle from his pocket. Examining the density of Mana and the grain of the sediment within the amber liquid, he said,
“There are true years in this, the kind no fake could ever imitate.”
He meant it was genuine. Charlotte nodded, satisfied.
“Then this?”
She took several accessories out of her bag, one after another.
First, a bracelet.
“Genuine.”
Next, a ring.
“Genuine.”
A necklace.
“All genuine. Top grade, without a flaw to be found.”
“……So annoying~ I should’ve just bought all fakes.”
She gathered the jewelry back up with a wry smile.
“All of this was from my brother. You know who he is, right?”
“Anyone who hears the name Grossman and doesn’t know isn’t an Imperial citizen. Probably a spy.”
Kurt Grossman, the Emperor’s Chief of Staff, doted very much on his younger sister.
Perhaps because of the wide gap in their ages, and because Kurt himself had no children.
“…….”
Eli gazed for a moment at the whiskey held in her hand.
“That whiskey, though. Didn’t you bring it to drink?”
“……Hm?”
Whiskey.
As Maximilian, he honestly wanted to drink it.
He was a man who enjoyed fine things, but「Jackallan Vintage Traoma 60-Year」was something you couldn’t get no matter how much money you threw at it.
He’d only had it twice even before his Regression, and considering how easily he’d been played back then, the liquor itself might well have been a fake.
“You like your drink?”
She asked as though she found it unexpected.
Eli gave an ahem of a cough.
“That particular one is special, isn’t it.”
“Then get up.”
Charlotte took the lead. Eli followed.
The two of them walked the deck together, the salt-laced wind of the night sea in their faces.
“I’m curious, though. How does an Appraiser tell the real from the fake?”
She was at an age full of questions and curiosity.
Eli answered, hiding a smile.
“The real is natural, and the fake is unnatural.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes. The essence of a thing is always simple.”
Eli stopped walking. Charlotte spun around and looked at him.
Meeting her eyes, he said,
“Just as you’re real.”
“…….”
Charlotte’s pupils wavered for a moment.
The man seemed timid, and yet the things he said and did carried a quiet fearlessness. No, an open fearlessness, and a complete honesty about whatever he felt in the moment.
A bold, curious sort of person.
“Are there fakes among people, too……?”
Eli leaned against the railing without a word and looked up at the night sky. Charlotte looked at his eyes instead of the sky.
……They seemed to hold starlight.
A Merin. A man of a persecuted people, trying to turn his back on the Empire.
His eyes were not bright at all. They were dark, like a deep abyss, but at the very bottom of them there was hope in abundance. Even as he mocked himself, saying there was no Bluebird, there was a will and a conviction that refused to give up.
And so, he was more full of hope than anyone Charlotte had ever seen.
At least, in this moment, that was how it felt.
“Can I ask what your dream is?”
Perhaps a stupid question.
Eli’s gaze tilted at an angle.
“To survive.”
Too obvious a wish, too humble a one. But it couldn’t be laughed at. The weight in his eyes was far too heavy for that.
“All of us. Together.”
Eli gave a faint smile.
“…….”
Charlotte fidgeted with her fingers for no particular reason, then, after some deliberation, drew a small notebook from inside her coat.
“Normally I really can’t stand throwing my family name around, though.”
She scrawled a sentence in the notebook, tore the page out with a rip, and handed it to him. Eli tilted his head.
“What’s this?”
“When we reach port, the Empire’s arrest unit will be waiting. Show them this. They’ll let you through.”
And with that, she leaned against the railing beside him.
Eli skimmed the paper.
“When we reach our destination…….”
The way he murmured it struck her as endearing for some reason, and she looked up at the sky.
“……Did you know? They say the density is different from one space to another.”
Charlotte went on quietly.
“They say some spaces are a little more special, that time accumulates in them at a different concentration.”
A night sky glittering white. The most magnificent vessel in the Empire. Waves lapping gently.
In that perfectly harmonious space, Eli gazed at the profile of her face.
Moonlight scattered across the rolling sea.
“So sometimes…… memory and time reverse.”
Decades of living, and only a single minute that surfaces before death.
The weight of a life is sometimes far too asymmetrical.
Eli nodded, his face rather sorrowful. Charlotte watched him as she opened the whiskey. The deep fragrance of years scattered on the night wind.
“This. They say you can’t drink it even if you have the money.”
Just as he took the glass she held out.
───Whoooooom.
Maximilian felt the impact rising from the very bottom of the ship.
~~~
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