Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume7 Chapter5 (section)

=== Part 3 ===

“Will someone tell me what on earth has gotten into all of you?”

Within her chambers, Esmena Bazgan stared in bemusement at her ladies’ maids, who had been kicking up a fuss for some time now. Some of them were rushing about in groups while others were brandishing their brooms like weapons. It was enough to make her wonder if there had been a repeat of that nightmarish uprising that had happened only a few days ago.

“Princess, is it not you who should tell us what has happened?”

The ladies’ maids snorted angrily.

“Why would you even think of inviting that insolent wretch again?”

They meant Orba. That afternoon, he was supposed to come to this room within the inner quarters.

He had previously been invited here before the battle in Helio; at that time he had spoken sneeringly of Gil, whom Esmena still yearned for. Wild with fury, something which was extremely rare for her, Esmena had driven him out then wept loudly.

“Stop this commotion, its unbecoming of you all. The Princess has her position to consider,” the head lady’s maid chided the younger ones. She was the same one who had informed Bouwen that Esmena wished to meet with Orba. “Sir Orba is now a hero whose name is known throughout the west. He is also the one who was responsible for rescuing the Princess.”

“But that…”

The ladies’ maids pulled unhappy faces. They knew nothing of war, and it was impossible for them to suddenly believe that the insolent and eerie young man who hid his own face was the hero who had defeated Garda. The head lady’s maid continued solemnly –

“The Princess has no choice but to invite him before her and say a few words of gratitude. No matter how wicked and arrogant his true personality might be... Even though he might be crafty and deceitful... No matter how distressing or terrifying it is for the Princess... Even though doing so makes her blood boil, her position carries responsibilities which…”

“Really, you’re all exaggerating,” Esmena found it impossible not to laugh.

The one who actually felt like it made her blood boil was the head lady’s maid. 

After all that, Esmena once again gathered her maids together and said –

“I have something to ask of you all.”

“What can we do for you?”

“Please be at ease. We will not leave your side.”

“I may not look like it, but my father drilled me in martial arts. At the first hint of insolence, I will smash that mask from behind and…”

Facing the ladies’ maids who were working themselves up into a frenzy, Esmena smiled.

“No. I would like you to leave me alone with him.”


 
Orba arrived at her chambers exactly on time. He walked in feeling that the ladies’ maids, who came out to greet him, had looked at him with terrible expressions.

Esmena Bazgan, the beautiful princess of Taúlia, was sitting at a table in the centre of the room on which snacks had been laid.

“Princess. I hope you have been doing well.”

Orba started off inoffensively. Esmena had been carried away to Eimen and been subjected to Garda’s loathsome sorcery. From what Orba had seen at the time, it looked as though her heart was being controlled.

“I have. I can think with my own mind and move my own body as I please. But because everyone here wants to treat me like an invalid, I’ve gone along with it a bit.”

Esmena, who was speaking laughingly, certainly looked well. Compared to how haggard she had been the last time he was invited to this room, or while she was kidnapped by the sorcerer, she seemed much healthier.

“How about you? You were not wounded during the fighting?”

“I’m as you see.”

“Hmm, but since you wear a mask, ‘as I see’ does not tell me much.”

“R-right.”

Orba was still standing at attention in front of the giggling Esmena.

''Weird'' – he was puzzled by the atmosphere surrounding her.

At her invitation, he sat down opposite her. Here in the west, no matter how hospitable they might be towards guests, it was rare to find oneself seated at the same level as a country’s princess. He was even more surprised when, after they had finished laying out the alcohol and tea, the ladies’ maids bowed and  left the room.

As soon as they had left –

“There is no one else in this room,” Esmena said. “There is also no one hiding to listen in. If you doubt me, please feel free to search this entire room.”

“What is it you want to say?”

A different atmosphere than earlier now surrounded Esmena as she sat directly opposite him, and for some reason, Orba felt self-conscious. It was not hostility. But it was not a friendly atmosphere either. It could perhaps be described as a certain kind of eagerness.

“Sir Orba.”
   
“Yes.”

“Won’t you show me your face?”

A swaying motion.

Orba saw something move in the corner of his eye. A curtain rustling in a gentle breeze.

“My face,” Orba repeated once the curtain had stopped moving.

“Yes,” Esmena nodded.

Her unwavering eagerness surged along with the wind, but her limpid eyes remained gentle. Orba did not say anything more.

To say that confusion raged like a storm through his breast – would be a lie. Orba’s mind was curiously calm.

Some time passed.

Esmena rose from her seat. Orba’s eyes followed her movements. She approached him.

And passed by his side. Beyond his field of vision, he could feel Esmena’s presence behind him. Slender brown fingers took hold of his mask.

As though taking part in a solemn ceremony, with movements that were perfectly calm and natural, Orba’s hand quietly stopped those fingers.

Esmena went rigid, as though she had received an electric shock. Orba stood up too.

Including the time to turn around, it could not have been more than a few seconds, but each had experienced several dozen sensations in that time.

Orba took the mask in his own fingers.

Several more seconds passed.

The curtain swayed and wind once more caressed his bare skin.

Orba’s hand had only slightly shifted the mask, but Esmena’s gaze was riveted to him almost frantically until suddenly, quickly, she averted her eyes.
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v07 206.jpg|thumb]]

“It’s... It’s enough,” she said sharply.

The Princess limply fell back down. Her shoulders shook. For a short while, Orba focused his gaze on the governor-general of Taúlia’s daughter, but before long, he fixed his mask back in place.

The desolate wind sang of bone-chilling coldness and cruelty to the young pair.

And with it, it seemed to carry a burning heartache.

After a while...

“I will not ask you about your circumstances,” said Esmena, with an expression like one who was holding back their anger. Her eyes were still turned away from Orba. Just as with her shoulders were, her lips quivered as words spilled from them. “Even if I were to ask you, I’m sure someone like me would not possibly be able to understand. You lived and came rushing to Taúlia when it was in danger. That is what I believe. Even if you were now to set Taúlia alight with your own hands, I could not resent you.”

“…”

“I will tell no one, of course. I swear to you, on my name of Esmena Bazgan. So please… p-please, trust me. I, Esmena, am small and cowardly, but this I will protect even with my own life.”
Her long eyelashes trembled incessantly. Orba did not say anything in response. From the window behind her, he could see the same cluster of towers that he had gazed at the previous evening, but from a different angle. From here, they looked like five fingers reaching out to grasp the heavens.

Esmena stood up again.

“Mercenary Captain Orba,” she called him by that name.

“Aye,” Orba once again stood to attention.

“You greatly helped my father and splendidly slayed the sorcerer Garda. For steadfastly protecting the west, as the princess of Taúlia, and as a woman of this land, I both praise you for your achievements, and thank you.”

Her eyes shining, Esmena smiled. Orba simply bowed his head.

As the Princess’ eyelashes trembled once more, a single teardrop trickled from beneath them...

It was more than an hour after Orba had left that the ladies’ maids were allowed to return to the room. Even with so much time, Esmena’s eyes were still red and swollen.

“Oh gracious!”

The ladies’ maids once more raised an uproar.

“What did that scoundrel say to you?”

“Now that he’s a hero, he must be even more insolent than before.”

“If I see him again, I won’t let him off this time.”

“Princess, what is making you smile? Princess…”



That evening.

A little after Orba’s unit, fifty soldiers led by Natokk – commander of the Sixth Army Corps – returned to Taúlia. He first greeted Bouwen and Nidhal, the commander of the Third Army Corps who had arrived back earlier. Then he went to find the strategist, Ravan Dol, who was currently undergoing medical treatment, carrying with him a verbal message from Ax.

Orba of course knew nothing of that errand.

He was doing his best to play the part of the merry-making ‘hero’ before Gilliam and the others brought it up. Once, with Shique playing the part of his opponent, he had re-enacted the scene of Garda being slain for the young soldiers.

With plenty of added flourishes, naturally.

“No... to think that the West could band together as one so quickly! Damn you, Ax Bazgan, I underestimated you!” Garda said, coughing up blood, then collapsed.

Although Orba thought that it was complete nonsense, he was also deeply aware that this kind of thing was necessary.	

Following Ax’s instructions, Nidhal had already held two days of celebration in Taúlia, and with the food and drink left over from that time, he treated Orba’s unit and the soldiers they had invited to a feast.

Additionally, that day, Esmena Bazgan had also attended the banquet. Because ordinarily the princess did not readily go to places where only men gathered, the festivities grew livelier than ever.

When the graceful beauty walked by, a faint scent of flowers seemed to drift in the air. Even though the atmosphere surrounding her was the same as ever, the men talked together excitedly.

''Doesn’t she seem to have changed somehow?''

''Yeah. It’s like she’s grown up all at once''.

''The Princess is already nineteen''.

''Right, when I got married, my wife was also nineteen. So she’s already at that age, huh…''

Some of them grew solemn and for some reason, their shoulders started to droop.

Perhaps because Governor-General Ax had raised her overprotectively, Esmena had always seemed young for her age; but now when she appeared in public, although her manners were modest, there was no doubt that the woman of the Bazgan House sitting in the seat of honour was an adult. In their clumsy hearts, the men were glad of that, but felt a little bereft at the same time.

The leading role at the feast was of course reserved for the new hero, Orba. Esmena had personally expressed her gratitude towards him, whereupon several Taúlian warriors turned green with envy, thinking – “if it was going to come to this, even if it cost a life or two, I should have been in Eimen to defeat Garda myself” – even as they smiled towards him.

Afterwards, while the light from the bonfire in the garden illuminated his iron mask, Orba respectfully presented the longsword which had killed Garda to the Princess.

“Still, Mephian gladiators are pretty capable.”

The Taúlian soldiers muttered, deeply impressed.

“Since we’re at peace with Mephius now, we might soon have gladiator shows put on here in the west too.”

“If that happens, locals will be invited to take part too, no?”

“How about trying it out? You’re pretty confident about your sword skills, right? Maybe you’ll get to catch up to the hero.”

“D-Don’t be stupid. I’m not afraid of dying on the battlefield but to kill or be killed for entertainment… no thanks.”

Sitting in at a corner of the banquet, Bouwen listened to his men talking with a wry smile.

They had fought for a long time with Mephius, with which they shared a border. Moreover, the Bazgan House was originally from Mephius and they had once outmanoeuvred its emperor by founding the nation of Zer Tauran, from which the current Taúlia had emerged after the country had split apart. With those origins, even if they were now at peace, it would not be easy to sever their fated enmity with Mephius.

But –

Taken the other way, it was a fact that Mephian blood flowed through the veins of the Bazgan family. That much could not be denied. By using that fact to skilfully guide people’s sympathies, even the deep ditch that lay between them and Mephius might eventually be bridged.

''And so, what’re we going to do with that hard-to-handle man?''

Feeling the urge to give another bitter smile, Bouwen looked at Orba from a distance. The problem he posed was a delicate one. If used well, there would be no better way to build a bridge with Mephius; but, if they handled him the wrong way, far from being a hero, he might suddenly become a target of hatred for the people of Tauran.

Since, after all, the risk of war was subsiding in the west, and heroes are not needed in times of peace.

While Bouwen was worrying his head with those complicated thoughts, a soldier rushed up to him just as the banquet was starting to wind down.

“What?”

As soon as the soldier whispered in his ear, Bouwen completely forgot the concerns that had been going through his mind. He immediately took his leave of Esmena and hurried away.

His expression as he left the banquet was tense.

An event entirely beyond his expectations had occurred.



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