Chapter 111: Later
MARIUS
The Second Consort was in a good mood after the art exhibition. I was a little concerned about the reactions of others when she commented on Blanche’s picture, but such politics were not something I, at my age and experience, could afford to think about too much.
After we left the exhibition, the Dean led us out to the field where all the clubs’ stalls were set up.
"Would you like something to eat before touring, Your Imperial Highness?" the Dean asked.
"That would be grand. I could use some food, indeed," the Second Consort replied.
Knowing that only ’safe’ food was being served, the Dean made his way to the food stall set up by the cooking club, gesturing for me and the student council president to head ahead and clear the way for the Second Consort.
So the president and I went a few steps ahead—not physically pushing people away, but just letting our presence be felt.
As we did so, I couldn’t help but remember the day at Hoffberg when I cleared the way as we arrested the magician.
Skylark drew that exact moment, but without me in it.
Something that made him uncomfortable, he said.
But I thought of it as a proud moment back then.
Until I saw Skylark’s terrified face.
Don’t think about it now, Marius.
I shook my head and walked toward the food stall, with the Second Consort and her entourage following behind the president and me.
Then I saw Skylark eating something with Fabian just in front of the stall, with Thomas standing behind it. I had to stop myself from quickly going over to get hold of Skylark, so by the time I got there, he and Fabian had already parted ways and Skylark had left.
"What do you want?" Thomas asked me as soon as he saw me—his tone not as hostile as it had been at times recently, but still cold.
"The Second Consort is coming this way. She’d like to sample the food from the cooking club," I said.
"She’ll just have to queue up—and pay up—like everyone else," Thomas said with a shrug and a grin.
"Please be cooperative," the student council president said to Thomas.
"We’ve already done so much to accommodate her," Thomas retorted.
"Do some more, then." The president didn’t budge.
Thomas glared at him, then at me.
Before either of us could say anything else, a voice came from behind us.
"What are you two bullying this poor young man for?"
We all turned around. The Second Consort had arrived at the stall, accompanied by the Dean and the rest of her entourage.
"Your Imperial Highness," the president immediately said with a bow. "We were simply making arrangements so you wouldn’t have to wait."
"Why wouldn’t I have to wait?" she asked.
The president seemed briefly caught off guard.
"Well, because—"
"I’m hungry, but I’m not dying," the Second Consort said, then looked at the short line beside us. "I can wait."
Thomas looked equally surprised.
"Your Imperial Highness, that wouldn’t be necessary," the Dean said.
"Nonsense. These people were here first."
She casually moved to the end of the queue.
Everyone standing in it immediately panicked and tried to move aside for her.
"No, no, no," she laughed. "Now you are ruining it."
In the end, there was no real queue anymore because nobody was willing to stand in front of a member of the Royal Family, so the Second Consort reached the stall anyway.
Thomas stood behind the counter, looking awkward.
It might have been the first time I had ever seen Thomas unsure of what to say.
"So," the Second Consort said, looking over the food displayed before her, "what do you recommend?"
Thomas hesitated.
"The beef patty in a bun has been selling well, Your Imperial Highness."
"Then I’ll have that."
Thomas prepared one and handed it to her.
"How much?"
Thomas blinked.
"Your Imperial Highness?"
"How much does it cost?"
"You don’t have to pay."
"You just told these gentlemen that everyone has to pay."
Thomas’s eyes darted toward me.
The Second Consort had apparently heard more of our conversation than I thought.
"That was—"
"Surely you wouldn’t make an exception for me after saying such a principled thing."
I saw the corner of Thomas’s mouth twitch.
"Two Kronen, Your Imperial Highness."
The Dean looked mildly horrified.
The Second Consort laughed and had one of her attendants hand Thomas the money.
She then took a large bite.
Everyone watched.
Thomas most of all.
The Second Consort chewed for a few seconds before her eyebrows rose.
"Oh, this is excellent."
Thomas’s guarded expression weakened.
"Really?"
"Really. What is in this?"
"Beef, onions, some herbs, pepper, mustard, and a little cheese in the middle. We tried a few different things because we had to change the menu."
I knew exactly why.
The Second Consort apparently did too.
"I heard about that," she said. "I’m sorry."
Thomas looked at her.
"For what, Your Imperial Highness?"
"For causing trouble for your club. I know you usually serve pork at the festival."
There was an awkward silence.
The president glanced at me.
Thomas glanced at me too.
"Yes, Your Imperial Highness," Thomas finally said.
"Was it difficult to change everything?"
"A little."
"A lot," Erika called out from farther inside the stall.
The Second Consort laughed.
"Then I owe all of you my thanks. I know it must have been irritating."
Thomas’s expression changed.
Not dramatically.
"Well... we came up with some good new food because of it," he admitted.
"And this is one of them?"
"Yes."
"Then perhaps next year you should serve both. Your traditional pork things and this."
Thomas grinned.
"That might actually be the plan now."
"Good. Then something worthwhile came from all the trouble I caused."
She took another enthusiastic bite, not quite ladylike, but full of life.
The Second Consort eventually moved on, still eating Thomas’s beef patty as she walked. We followed her across the field toward the next attraction.
Then, farther ahead, I spotted a familiar head of pale blond hair.
Skylark.
He was standing beside the kick-ball field, talking to Dimitri.
I instinctively quickened my steps, thinking maybe this time I could catch up with him.
"Marius."
I stopped as the president called me.
"Yes, President?"
"Go ahead and check whether everything is ready for the match. Her Imperial Highness wants to watch."
"Yes, President."
By the time I looked back toward Skylark, he was already walking away from Dimitri.
For a moment, I considered calling his name.
But there were too many people between us now.
Later.
I would find him later.
I headed toward the kick-ball officials instead.
The match was between our Academy team and the Capital Guards Cadets—one of the traditional rivalries in the capital. The Second Consort seemed particularly interested when she learned about it, so chairs were quickly arranged for her and the senior Academy staff beside the field.
Once everything was ready, the whistle blew.
The match began intensely.
The Capital Guards Cadets were physically formidable. Most of them were older than our players, and their coordination was excellent. But our Academy team was faster, and Dimitri in particular seemed determined to prove that strength belonged to him alone.
He collided shoulder-to-shoulder with one of the Cadets and somehow sent the other man stumbling while remaining upright himself.
The crowd roared.
The Second Consort jumped out of her chair.
"YES!"
The Dean looked at her.
She slowly sat back down.
"Sorry."
Then I heard another voice from across the field.
"GO, DIMITRI!"
Skylark.
My eyes immediately found him.
He was standing close to the rope surrounding the field, both hands cupped around his mouth.
"COME ON! YOU CAN DO IT!"
Dimitri heard him. He looked toward Skylark, raised his fist, and shouted something back that I couldn’t hear.
Skylark jumped up and down, waving both arms.
Then one of our players intercepted a pass and sent the ball forward. Dimitri ran after it, caught up with the defender, and—
"GO! GO! GO!" Skylark screamed.
Why was I watching Skylark instead of the ball?
I forced my eyes back toward the field.
Dimitri scored.
The Academy side erupted.
So did Skylark.
He threw both arms into the air and jumped so high that the student beside him had to move away.
Then Dimitri ran toward the side of the field and pointed directly at Skylark.
Skylark pointed back.
Something small and unpleasant pinched inside my chest.
I frowned.
What was that?
I shook my head.
Focus, Marius.
The Capital Guards equalized shortly afterwards, which sent their supporters into a frenzy. The match became increasingly physical, both teams fighting over every ball. The Second Consort had completely abandoned any attempt at maintaining dignified royal composure. She leaned forward in her chair, shouted whenever someone made a good pass, and once even protested a referee’s decision.
For a while, I managed to actually watch the match.
Then Dimitri made another strong tackle.
Skylark screamed his name.
I looked at Skylark.
Then at Dimitri.
Then back at Skylark.
I had spent the past few weeks running around the Academy working on this festival. I had helped arrange the art exhibition that Skylark participated in. I had negotiated with clubs, delivered schedules, resolved disagreements, and spent almost every spare moment carrying out student council duties.
And now the festival was finally here.
Skylark was enjoying it.
That should have made me happy.
It did make me happy.
But something felt missing.
I looked at Skylark one more time.
He jumped again as Dimitri received the ball.
"COME ON, DIMITRI!"
I sighed.
Later.
I would definitely find time for Skylark later.
Somehow.