WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Haruto
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◈ The Pushover Young Lord in a Romance Fantasy Won't Take It Anymore ◈
Chapter 23: You, You!
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"Get lost!"
Celine hurled a string of curses at him and flipped him off. I couldn't help feeling satisfied.
She really is my sister. She's just like me.
Thud!
"Urgh, my heart...!"
Damian clutched his chest and dropped to his knees.
I thought he'd be shocked enough to back off by now.
Anyone with a normal way of thinking would have.
"Such a bold, uninhibited young lady. My heart races beyond what it can bear. All the other young ladies were too busy putting on fake smiles!"
Fuck. It had the opposite effect.
"Lady Celine. My heart, my soul, they desire you! Please, accept my feelings!"
"I said no."
"Young Lord Astin! Brother Astin! Please, I beg you!"
As if he had no shame at all, Damian knelt in the middle of the banquet hall.
That wasn't enough for him. He even grabbed my trouser leg.
At this point, he wasn't just an obsessive loser. He was a whole different kind of lunatic.
I could feel the blatant stares from all around us, but this crazy bastard seemed not to care.
And this was supposedly the second-in-command of the Sirius Mage Tower, a man with power, intelligence, and dignity.
'I wish every romance-fantasy male lead would just die. Except Julian.'
What was so great about love that he was willing to crawl this low for it?
Were romance-fantasy male leads' brains built differently from ordinary people's?
"Quit clinging to her. Can't you see the kid is sick of you?"
Damian, still stuck to the floor, looked up at Celine. Her expression was cold as ice.
"Urgh, even that scornful gaze is wonderful..."
Was he always this kind of character?
Damian flinched as though he had finally realized he'd misspoken.
He staggered to his feet, then gave a long cough as if trying to recover his crumpled dignity.
"Ahem. You seem quite startled today, my lady, so I shall withdraw for now. For today."
"Give up forever. Don't ever show your face again."
"I shall look forward to our next meeting, Lady Celine. My love for you shall never grow cold. And please, visit the Sirius Mage Tower whenever you wish. I will welcome you with open arms."
Damian turned away, his cloak fluttering dramatically behind him.
Watching his retreating back, I could be sure of one thing.
That bastard had absolutely not given up. The way he kept sneaking glances at Celine was full of lingering attachment.
I lightly patted the top of Celine's head.
"Sorry some weirdo got attached to you. Just think of him as a pitiful guy who got hit in the head."
Celine quietly grabbed my sleeve. Feeling her lean on me made me strangely pleased.
I barely managed to resist the urge to pinch her cheeks.
After the commotion passed, I finally realized the air around us had taken on a strange excitement.
Everyone stopped talking at once and turned toward the central platform. Expectant murmurs spread through the crowd.
It felt like the taut tension right before a huge event began.
Click.
The chandelier lights suddenly went out. Darkness settled over the hall, and every sound around us fell silent.
In the breathless stillness...
Clap!
Soft lights began to shine in scattered spots like spotlights.
A gentle string melody drifted from the platform.
It was the signal announcing the start of the debutante ball, the finale of the Founding Festival.
Looking around, I saw nobles pair up and step into the center of the hall.
As if they had already arranged it beforehand, they soon began taking graceful steps together.
"Shall we go too?"
"Y-Yes..."
Celine was visibly nervous.
As far as I remembered, she'd attended a few social gatherings, but this was her first ball. Of course she'd be nervous.
I stepped into the center with Celine.
After a light bow, I took her small hand in one of mine and carefully placed the other on her back.
We began to move to the string music.
Our steps missed the beat. Our bodies moved awkwardly. Neither of us knew where to look.
"Ah! S-Sorry, Brother."
"It's okay. I almost stepped on your foot just now too."
I'd forgotten a critical problem. Neither Celine nor I knew anything about social dancing.
Even if this was my second life, I'd spent it rolling around in the dirt, far from noble social gatherings.
Celine had never attended a ball before either, so we kept bumping into each other's feet.
While the other couples traced elegant lines like swans, we alone moved like wooden dolls.
I was starting to think we should just go back to being spectators.
"Um, Brother."
Before the music had even ended, Celine slowly let go of my hand.
"Could I go to the restroom for a moment?"
I guess she felt awkward too.
"I'll come with you. It's big, so you could get lost."
"No, I can go by myself. You stay here, Brother."
Celine, who had been walking toward the main doors, suddenly stopped. She spun around to face me.
A mischievous smile, far removed from her usual innocent expression, played on her lips.
"Brother."
"Yeah?"
"Have a good dance with Sister!"
"...?"
After leaving behind those mysterious words, Celine disappeared into the crowd.
I stood there alone, blankly staring ahead.
Have a good dance with Sister...
There was only one person Celine could call Sister.
"Selena? Why would she suddenly come up?"
My sister Selena had been dispatched to the northern front and should have been on her way back by now.
I'd heard nothing about her attending the Founding Festival, and she wasn't the kind of person to make a surprise appearance somewhere like this.
She was a woman interested only in martial achievement, determined to break the prejudice against eldest daughters.
She was beyond hopeless at socializing. She probably didn't have even the slightest interest in it.
"..."
Just in case, I looked around.
There was no woman who looked like Selena anywhere.
"What is this, seriously?"
That was all I could mutter in confusion.
* * *
Lucia stood still and looked around the hall.
Whenever young ladies with slightly youthful faces blushed and held out their hands, men willingly smiled and led them toward the center of the hall.
"Those are good times."
The young nobles' steps were clumsy, yet fresh and innocent.
Lucia was nineteen herself and still had her coming-of-age ceremony ahead of her, but her own innocence had already become a memory.
The debutante ball was not simply entertainment.
On the surface, it was an event where young ladies chose men they liked and danced with them.
Yet it also quietly implied that their dance partner might become their future spouse.
Even now, it remained a way for young ladies to convey their feelings of love.
There was no close embrace around the waist like a waltz. They stepped in time to a minuet.
The restrained distance, where only their fingertips touched, felt all the more wistful.
The faint smiles they tried to hide, the flushed cheeks, the lashes lowering shyly whenever their eyes met.
A tender feeling filled Lucia as she watched.
They looked like they were truly in love. She couldn't help envying them.
Three men suddenly stepped close, blocking her view.
"Lady Lucia."
"Lucia."
"Miss Sia."
The head of the Patrian Merchant Guild, the second son of the Northern Grand Ducal House, and His Highness the Crown Prince.
The three men exchanged sidelong glances, subtly keeping one another in check.
Then all three stared at Lucia as if bewitched.
"Miss Lucia. Would you honor me by sharing the first dance?"
"Choose me, please. I wish to match my steps with yours."
"The only partner worthy of me, the Crown Prince, is you. Take my hand."
The Patrian Merchant Guild head's sly, persistent gaze, as smooth and serpentine as a snake's. The second son of the Northern Grand Ducal House, whose massive frame filled her vision. Crown Prince Zenon's relaxed yet arrogant smile.
The three men politely extended their hands toward Lucia.
Every eye in the hall focused on that spot.
Even those already dancing paused to glance over.
To those watching, it must have looked like a romantic painting. They would envy her, saying that she truly was the star of high society.
For Lucia, though, it was only another part of her exhausting days.
Lucia tightly closed her eyes. When she struggled to open them again, the three men's hands filled her vision.
"I..."
Whenever she was presented with choices like these, she had always picked one at random.
Hundreds of pairs of eyes watched with bated breath, expecting romance. The atmosphere around her pushed her forward.
It was not a choice made freely.
It was nothing but an escape she had squeezed out because she couldn't refuse.
―People aren't pushed aside. They fall. Then I'd only become the victim because I was hurt.
The words she had spoken in self-mockery to Astin on the terrace earlier echoed in Lucia's ears.
If something felt unfair, express it. If she disliked something, say she disliked it. If she liked something, say so.
Be honest with herself. Stop keeping everything bottled up and try living the way she wanted.
'I haven't done that until now.'
Who was the person she truly wanted to get to know?
Lucia asked herself that question.
Not immense wealth, rough martial strength, or the authority of the imperial family.
Even now, the heavy scent of their perfume polluted her senses.
What kind of person was he again? Lucia easily found her answer.
A person who smelled pleasant.
A person who understood honor and chivalry.
A person who somehow kept drawing her eyes and heart toward him.
A person whose casually tossed-out remarks always made her laugh.
A person who had given a huge sum, not for Lucia, but for General Vermang.
A pitiful man.
Her gaze passed beyond the three men's hands.
Her ruby-red eyes landed beyond their shoulders, in the center of the banquet hall.
"...Ah."
Disappointment narrowed Lucia's pupils.
That man was already dancing with a partner.
She had forgotten something important.
A relationship could only exist when both people's hearts connected.
No matter how much she wanted to approach him, his feelings might be different.
Relationships between people were that vague.
Lucia smiled bitterly and suppressed her feelings.
As always, she had to choose from the options set before her.
"What a shame..."
She wanted to dance with him, if she could.
Resigned, she slowly began to reach out.
Then, at the edge of her wandering gaze, she met the eyes of a young girl.
The girl released the man's hand she had been holding. Leaving the confused man behind, she began to walk away.
While Lucia blinked in puzzlement, Celine turned toward her.
She clenched both fists near her chest and struck an adorable pose.
'You can do it!'
She mouthed the words clearly without making a sound. A beat later, Lucia understood.
Lucia's crimson eyes trembled faintly. Unable to hold it back, a small laugh escaped between her lips.
The man left alone was looking around like an idiot.
He truly looked as if he had no idea what was happening.
'How can he be so easy to read?'
His flustered, troubled feelings showed plainly in every movement.
A fresh smile spread across Lucia's lips.
He really was a transparent person.
That was why she felt she could act without hiding anything too.
Being swept up by the atmosphere, watching the other person's reactions, making choices she didn't want to make...
She had been a woman who wasn't honest with herself, killing off her own identity before choices with no right answer.
At last, Lucia understood her heart.
If there was no correct answer among the choices, she only had to find one herself.
Without hesitation, Lucia raised her hand. Her index finger pointed toward one place.
Not at the three men before her, but at a man standing alone some distance away.
"Gasp...!"
"What? She didn't choose His Highness Zenon?"
"Who is she pointing at?!"
The nobles forgot even their dignity and gaped.
The three men's expressions stiffened as well. Following Lucia's fingertip, they turned their heads.
At the moment every eye in the banquet hall converged on one person...
"?"
The man who had been pointed out blinked, unable to understand the situation.
With all those eyes on him, he abruptly looked behind himself, as though it had nothing to do with him.
"Ahaha!"
Lucia burst into laughter at his foolishly oblivious reaction. It was not a fake laugh, but a genuine one.
It had been the same on the terrace.
Back then, Lucia had not been the star of high society. She had simply been a woman.
No one but that man had made her feel that way.
"You, you! Don't turn around, look over here!"
Even from far away, their eyes met and tangled tightly.
Her heart swelled.
For the first time, Lucia clearly felt her own feelings.
That man was her answer.
"Young Lord Astin! Dance with me!"
Author's Note
Thank you to Masterpiece Detector for the 100-coin donation! I'll keep doing occasional rapid releases in the future! Please enjoy!
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