novelraw Chapter 105: An Uncanny Atmosphere
Chapter 105: An Uncanny Atmosphere
Though it was Fischer she had asked to protect her, a contingent of Royal Guard soldiers in their white uniforms still trailed at a discreet distance. The sun was bright outside, so Elizabeth donned a wide-brimmed hat — different from the one she had worn the last time they met.
Only her golden hair caught the glare, shimmering like hammered gold and drawing every eye.
Though Elizabeth's features were obscured by the hat, onlookers could still feel her noble, elegant aura. Some gentlemen cast envious or curious glances at the man on her arm, but the moment they recognized Fischer Benavides, they fell silent.
Elizabeth and Fischer — in Saint-Nazareth, no matter how you looked at it, they were an impeccably matched pair.
Even a few years ago, when the king had tried to find a husband for Elizabeth, the Crown Princess herself had firmly refused on the grounds of "a demanding schedule." Any outsider could see that Elizabeth was waiting for Fischer.
"What do you think of Saint-Nazareth University?"
Elizabeth was the guest here, yet somehow it was she who turned around and asked Fischer for his impression of the school.
"The academic atmosphere is quite good. The students are hardworking and energetic."
"A very Fischer-like assessment... Speaking of which, your birthday has passed. You're twenty-eight now. What are your plans for the future?"
Elizabeth turned to look at the man beside her."Plans?"
"The gentlemen of Saint-Nazareth are always yearning to make their mark — to forge their own legends. It inevitably means a restless life. But as I see it, you don't seem to harbor that kind of ambition. So why not settle down? Build a family, put down roots right here... Or is Mr. Fischer a freedom-loving wanderer who refuses to be tied down by family and duty?"
Beneath Elizabeth's hat, her pale gold eyes were frigid — a stark contrast to her casual, almost teasing words.
Under her scrutiny, Fischer offered a slight smile and was about to reply when a middle-aged man in a Nari suit approached and bowed to Elizabeth.
"Your Royal Highness, welcome to Saint-Nazareth University. I am board member Gary. Good day, Mr. Fischer."
Fischer noticed the Nazarene Development Company badge on the man's lapel and immediately placed him — a representative of Naris's wealthiest corporation.
The Nazarene Development Company had built its fortune on maritime trade. At a time when the Crown had no funds to sponsor overseas expeditions, the company had pooled its entire resources to bankroll Captain Blake's ship, the Holy Maiden. In hindsight, that had been a staggeringly farsighted investment.
In the years since, the company had reaped enormous profits from overseas exploration and conquest, holding monopolies in mining, shipbuilding, and Southern Continent maritime trade — a corporate leviathan among Nari enterprises. The ruling Pioneer Party's primary patron was none other than this company.
Elizabeth shot the man an icy glance, but the moment she lifted the brim of her hat so that her eyes were visible, they turned warm and vacant once more.
"No need for formalities. The school has clearly gone to great lengths for this Gothrin Festival celebration. Just looking at the event schedule overwhelmed me — I hardly know where to begin."
"Your Highness is too kind. The Gothrin Festival is the most important holiday for all Nari people — we would never cut corners... That said, our poetry recital is about to begin. The board has reserved special seats for Your Highness and Mr. Fischer. If you'd please follow me."
Elizabeth smiled placidly and, together with Fischer, followed Gary's lead toward the event grounds.
The so-called poetry recital was a deeply traditional Nari activity — essentially an exchange of verses on a given theme. There were no rigid formats; one simply composed as the spirit moved.
In recent years, however, several popular verse templates had emerged. Filling in vocabulary according to the template was another option — a way for citizens without literary talent to produce something passable, thus avoiding cringeworthy output along the lines of "O sea, you are all water; O steed, you have four legs."
"Ladies and gentlemen, please note that our campus features the most advanced plumbing system in all of Saint-Nazareth. It was built independently by the Nazarene Development Company — a far cry from the tangled, inefficient systems in the rest of the city."
"Our cafeteria operates an a la carte system and is proficient in the cuisines of every nation."
"Student dormitories house three per room, yes."
There were many programs on offer. Visiting parents, members of the public curious about the university, and even media had come, so the school had organized numerous information sessions. Several board members, each with a glass of red wine in hand, were guiding groups on campus tours.
By the time Elizabeth arrived, students and professors had already formed circles of their own and begun exchanging verses, pairing poetry with wine and refreshments.
"Mr. Fischer, I'll go deliver a brief opening address. I'll be right back."
Elizabeth nodded to Fischer and headed for the podium. Fischer picked up a glass of red wine and settled into a front-row seat. A woman was already sitting beside him; when she saw him sit down, she introduced herself.
"Good day, Professor Fischer. A pleasure to meet you — I'm Laofang."
The woman appeared to be in her thirties, her hair pinned up in a bun, with a pair of delicate spectacles on her nose. She radiated an air of refined intelligence. She greeted Fischer cordially; he took up his glass and clinked it with hers.
"Fischer Benavides. Pleased to meet you."
"I knew your name long before you joined this university, Professor. Seeing you in person today, I must say you live up to the reputation — truly the gentleman most worthy of that title in all of Saint-Nazareth."
"You flatter me. Will you be composing a new poem for the recital, Lady Laofang?"
"Ah, of course. It would be a shame to let such a holiday pass without poetry. What prompts the question, Mr. Fischer?"
Something had crossed Fischer's mind. He took a small sip of wine and said.
"I know someone — a young girl — who adores your poetry. If you were to publish a new work, I think it would make her very happy."
Laofang looked at Fischer's profile in mild surprise, then smiled.
"I shall certainly do my best to create something worthy of her expectations."
"Much appreciated."
Laofang's impression of Fischer was favorable — after even this brief exchange, she found the man charismatic and worth knowing better. But before meeting him, her impression had been shaped solely by his association with Elizabeth, leaving her view tinged with a somewhat derisive "kept man" connotation.
Amusingly, many of her own works depicted romances between lowborn heroines and wealthy merchants, yet she personally looked down on a "social climber" like Fischer. She had simply never let it show, keeping the thought locked inside.
'If this gentleman were a bit wealthier, though, that would be ideal.'
Laofang stole a glance at Fischer's non-bespoke black suit and privately assessed his financial situation.
"I'm back, Mr. Fischer. Lady Laofang, good day."
Just as Laofang was covertly sizing Fischer up, a voice beside her detonated like a bomb. She hastily withdrew her gaze and turned — to find a beautiful princess standing before her, wearing a paper-thin smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
That warm yet hollow smile carried an indefinable authority that compelled Laofang to rise and curtsy almost involuntarily.
"Your Highness Elizabeth."
"At ease... The poetry recital is about to begin. Shall we gather some students and exchange verses together?"
This last remark was addressed to Fischer, but Laofang didn't leave. She had been invited by the school specifically to accompany Elizabeth during the recital. Her role was simple: stay silent, and when Elizabeth produced a verse, lavish it with praise — thus raising the perceived value of the princess's poetry.
Such was the way of social diplomacy in Nari. Many arrangements that appeared natural and effortless were in fact meticulously orchestrated.
"Sister!"
Just as Elizabeth, smiling gently, turned her gaze toward Laofang, a figure came running from behind and threw her arms around the Crown Princess.
"Mind your manners, Isabel."
Though it was a reminder, Elizabeth still smiled and patted the head of the girl clinging to her from behind. Isabel blushed and straightened up, then spotted the two professors beside her sister and politely greeted them both.
"Professor Fischer, Professor Laofang — hello."
"Your Highness Isabel."
This was a formal occasion, not a classroom, so the royal protocol applied. But Fischer wasn't worried that Isabel would use the setting to retaliate for anything from class. That would only prove her too petty for a member of the royal family. He wouldn't even need to say a word — her sister would discipline her.
"Oh, and Sister, I brought my roommates and a friend of Professor Fischer's. Shall we all exchange poems together?"
Jasmine emerged from behind Isabel to say hello, but before she could, Isabel had already turned to look at two women standing a short distance away.
Fischer and Elizabeth turned in unison. Milika, Isabel's roommate, was young enough to be disregarded — but the tall, raven-haired woman standing behind the girl still wore a smile, only the temperature of that smile had dropped considerably.
She looked at Fischer, then at Elizabeth standing conspicuously close to his side, then back at Fischer — smiling all the while. The uneasy oscillation was quickly picked up by the ever-perceptive Elizabeth, who turned to study Fischer in turn.
"She says she's a friend of Professor Fischer's. She got lost on campus," Isabel explained helpfully.
"Friend?"
Elizabeth regarded Renee. Her gentle smile hollowed out, layer by layer.
And the dark-haired lady, with those deep violet eyes blinking innocently — despite bearing no title, no status, no credentials — stood there exuding an aura not one shade inferior to Elizabeth's.
She simply nodded, spared Fischer a brief glance, and replied.
"That's right. We're friends."
The moment that answer left her lips, the festival grounds around them remained noisy as ever — yet the atmosphere in Fischer's immediate vicinity turned suddenly and profoundly uncanny.