novelraw Chapter 104: Friends
Chapter 104: Friends
"The prince?"
Fischer knew something of Schwari's affairs. The queen currently on the Schwari throne was the biological sister of the previous king, who had had a son — yet the crown had passed to the sister, not the child.
Anyone else might have assumed the usual tangle of family discord and court intrigue, but with Schwari's queen and the current prince, that was extremely unlikely.
The previous king of Schwari had been grotesquely incompetent and an unrepentant libertine — hosting indiscriminate banquets of every imaginable vice in the palace. Such scandals were so outrageous that even Fischer, all the way over in Naris, had heard of them. In reality, the current prince had been raised by his aunt. Their bond was deep, and their dependence mutual.
After the king's death, the still-young prince had yielded the throne to his aunt. She had never married, and with an iron hand, she pulled Schwari back from the brink of collapse. At the same time, she devoted every effort to grooming the prince — clearly designating him as the future ruler of Schwari.
That the Schwari queen would send the prince on this visit to Naris spoke volumes about how seriously she took it.
"Yes. He'll accompany the scholarly delegation. I plan to have Saint-Nazareth University host an academic conference for the occasion. Only after the conference concludes will my brother formally receive him at the Golden Palace. That will bring the visit to a fitting close."
Elizabeth nodded and addressed Fischer.
"I'm informing you in advance so you can prepare. I trust you'll handle whatever challenges their scholars throw at you."
"Understood."While Fischer was mulling this over, Elizabeth slid fractionally closer. The faint blend of ecclesiastical incense and her own natural scent interrupted his thoughts.
"But let's set that aside for now. Today is about the Gothrin Festival celebrations. I have other obligations this evening, so I barely found time to come. I'm told the university has prepared quite a number of festivities — they've even invited many students' parents. To show the Crown's support, I need to at least make an appearance at every event."
"During that time, I can't do without someone personally guarding me. Could I entrust that heavy responsibility to you, Mr. Fischer?"
Elizabeth extended her left hand toward Fischer. In those warm yet fathomless golden eyes, Fischer's reflection wavered. She gazed at him quietly, seemingly awaiting his answer.
It was just past noon. Elizabeth had evening commitments and presumably wouldn't linger long; attending the events with her would time out perfectly for his return home.
"Understood. Your safety is in my hands, Your Highness."
Any fool could hear past the pretense. "Safety" was merely a euphemism — she was simply inviting Fischer to attend the festivities with her.
Upon receiving his affirmative reply, a sliver of genuine pleasure finally rippled through those calm, gentle eyes.
Before them, the Mother Goddess's statue watched benevolently over the modest chapel. Elizabeth smoothed her attire and rose, then lightly offered Fischer her right hand — clearly expecting him to take it.
According to etiquette, a lady's male companion could either take her hand or decline — no breach either way. But taking it signaled a closer relationship.
When royalty was involved, however, etiquette demanded extra caution. The tiniest gesture could be read as a signal by watchful eyes. Ordinarily, the hand-linking custom was one the royal family avoided.
But Elizabeth intended to do it anyway.
She smiled faintly, and behind those half-closed golden eyes lurked a dangerous air.
Royal decorum prevented her from being too ardent or direct. But might that very restraint have emboldened other presumptuous women to court death by sidling up to Fischer?
Nari ladies would hardly dare. But what about Schwari women? Kadu women? Northern Border women? Southern Continent natives?
Elizabeth couldn't be bothered to manage every possibility, but it was time to strengthen the signal of who this gentleman belonged to — even if the gesture was somewhat overstepping royal convention.
Fischer eyed the slightly out-of-bounds gesture with a moment's puzzlement. Previously, even when he kept a respectful distance from the Crown Princess, she had silently maintained a safe boundary of her own.
'Why does it feel like, ever since they parted at the Royal Academy, this princess has been pressing closer and closer?'
But the princess had spoken. Fischer had little choice but to accept her right hand and tuck it into the crook of his arm.
The instant she rested her hand there, Fischer felt her fingers casually squeeze the muscle of his forearm. When he turned his head quizzically, Elizabeth wore a look of perfect innocence — as though it had been an accident.
Elizabeth smiled. A glimmer of amusement surfaced in those warm, hollow golden eyes. She was as elegantly captivating as an angel embodying all of Naris's beauty.
"Shall we, Mr. Fischer?"
"Aaah, Isabel, quick — check whether the clasp at the back of my dress is done up!"
Across campus, all afternoon classes had been canceled. Students strolled happily in front of the classroom building, browsing the schedule of events.
On a bench by the path, Milika was frowning and twisting around to inspect her outfit, terrified that something was amiss.
The reason was understandable. Milika was currently wearing the traditional black church dress — an outfit as complicated to put on as it was particular about how it was worn. Even the layering order of the inner petticoats had strict rules. Every time Milika donned it, it felt like sitting an exam.
But her father was visiting the school today, so the traditional formal wear was non-negotiable.
Isabel and Jasmine leaned in to check for her, then reassured her.
"Relax — we already confirmed everything before you left the room. There isn't a single thing out of place."
Milika finally exhaled, patting her chest in relief.
"Ugh, my father is always picking apart my clothes. He says a disheveled outfit is disrespectful. Honestly, if he had to try on a robe with eight separate layers, I bet even he'd have a headache."
Isabel and Jasmine both laughed. Their own outfits were also formal, but nothing as labyrinthine as the church's black robe.
"By the way, have you looked at today's events? There's a poetry recital! And a poetry-writing contest — the judge is Lady Laofang!"
"And there'll be tons of food. Jasmine, let's go check it out."
Jasmine was quietly sketching something in her notebook. A closer look revealed that she had meticulously recorded each of the eight layers of Milika's complex black dress — from innermost to outermost — in her sketchbook. The detail was astonishingly lifelike. Even though Isabel and the others had seen her work many times, it never ceased to impress them.
"Hm? Sure!"
The mention of poetry hadn't stirred Jasmine at all; she'd gone on silently drawing. Only when Isabel blinked and mentioned food did she look up.
That adorable reaction had Milika and the others stifling laughter.
"Jasmine, how can you eat so much and never gain weight? You're too cute."
Milika pinched Jasmine's cheeks, and the roommates fell into playful banter.
Amid the lively campus bustle, a deep, mysterious fragrance suddenly wafted past Isabel's nose. She followed it to its source — and there, at some point, a black-haired woman as intoxicating as fine wine had appeared on the path beside the school grounds.
The woman wore a black dress, her bearing equal parts elegance and languor. One hand rested lightly against her red lips, as though she were surveying the campus surroundings.
In under a second, the woman seemed to sense Isabel's gaze. She turned toward her with a smile. Those deep violet eyes, luminous as a galaxy, pulled one in with devastating ease. Under that stare, even Isabel couldn't help but blush and look away on instinct.
"Excuse me — are you all students here?"
"Huh?"
The dark-haired lady drifted toward Isabel's group. When all three girls turned their eyes on her at once, she put on an apologetic expression.
"I'm so sorry. My name is Renee. I seem to have gotten lost — I suddenly have no idea which way to go. It's quite vexing, so I thought I'd ask for directions."
"Lost? Oh, are you here for the visiting-families event today? Where are you trying to go?"
Hearing Milika's eager offer, Renee smiled.
From the corner of her eye, that deep gaze swept across Jasmine, who sat nearby. Something seemed to catch her attention, and her eyes lingered on Jasmine for a moment before moving on.
Jasmine's body tensed almost imperceptibly. For the briefest instant, she felt as though something terrifying had fixed its gaze on her — but when she looked up, all she saw was the warm, smiling, dark-haired lady before her.
"That's wonderful. I'm looking for someone named Fischer Benavides. Could you tell me where he is right now?"
"Huh? Professor Fischer?!"
"Professor Fischer?"
Isabel and Milika exchanged a glance. Milika looked at the elegant woman, then blurted out, a note of urgency in her voice.
"Um, pardon me — what's your relationship with Professor Fischer?"
Renee's deep violet eyes discreetly assessed Milika. After one second — apparently having determined that this girl was so harmless as to pose no threat whatsoever — her expression came alive again.
Her cheeks flushed pink. Her pale fingers absently twirled a curl of her black hair, and her gaze drifted evasively aside.
"We're... friends."
'Friends, my foot!'
One look at Renee's bashfulness told Milika that this woman was almost certainly Professor Fischer's romantic interest!
'Huh?'
'Don't tell me Professor Fischer is into this type of woman?'
She was certainly gorgeous — gentle, seemingly well-behaved, clearly the nurturing kind. But Milika felt that she and Professor Fischer were absolutely wrong for each other!
Not suited at all!
Milika puffed out her cheeks, momentarily speechless. It was Isabel who laughed and waved her hand, picking up the conversation.
"Oh, Professor Fischer should be taking part in this afternoon's events, too. If you don't mind, why not come along with us to the main grounds? Maybe we'll run into him there."
Renee smiled and clasped her hands together, the picture of shy, bashful delight. Combined with her mature, striking beauty, it created an entirely different and irresistibly alluring impression. Even Isabel couldn't help but think the woman before her was extraordinarily beautiful.
"That's so kind of you! I'd have been completely lost without your help..."
Facing Milika's none-too-friendly gaze, Renee seemed as innocently oblivious to hostility as a lamb — when in truth, those devil-sharp eyes had already swept across every person in the vicinity, filtering for any trace of evidence that a certain annoying Fischer had been doing something behind her back.