Prologue
The Soiree, Evening Banquet.
It’s a formal gathering where guests are invited and entertained with luxurious meals.
An event held mainly to strengthen relationships, socialize, and exchange pleasantries while dining with the host and other participants.
About ten days had passed since receiving an invitation to such an evening party from Count Leclerc. The precious occasion was now approaching this coming Sunday.
In Byleth’s room, where he was engrossed in his studies, Sia was rummaging through the closet while stretching.
“……”
“……”
Byleth didn’t speak up, not wanting to disturb Sia’s work.
She, too, remained silent, careful not to interrupt his studies.
The space was filled only with the sound of the quill pen scratching and the rustle of clothes—but it’s only natural for the desire to talk to well up, given the opportunity.
“Sia, do you have a moment?”
“Yes!”
The moment he called out, Sia stopped her searching and turned around with a smile.
“Oh, you can keep working while we talk.”
“No, no! Don’t worry about it!”
She seemed somewhat happy, fluttering her hands.
It might be conceit, but her expression suggested she might have been ‘waiting to be called.’
“So, what work are you doing right now, Sia?”
It was a question that might elicit a response like ‘Isn’t it obvious?’, but it was necessary to start a conversation.
“I’m currently selecting your outfit for the banquet on Saturday!”
“Ah, I see. Sorry for the trouble. There are so many outfits.”
“It’s a joyful task! This is a job entrusted only to a personal maid!”
“Haha, is that so?”
“I’ll definitely choose the outfit that suits you best, Lord Byleth!”
“Thank you.”
Sia clenched her small hands, seemingly overflowing with enthusiasm.
Though her face still held a childlike innocence, she showed herself to be more reliable than anyone.
“Oh, right. There’s one thing I need to tell you about the banquet, Sia.”
“Something to tell me…?”
“Yes, I have a promise with Elena and Luna on that day, so I might leave the venue a few times.”
It was something from a few days ago, but he hadn’t forgotten.
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[During the banquet… I want you to make some time to slip out with me]
The promise with Elena Leclerc, who had said this with a flushed face.
[I want to be alone with you. If possible, outside]
And the promise with Luna Perenmel, who had invited him, seemingly gathering her courage.
He was telling Sia this because Byleth had done terrible things in the past.
To prevent worry or anxiety about him ‘leaving alone’ when he wasn’t in the venue.
“Understood. You have promises to leave the venue.”
“I might return late…”
“I’ll tell the coachman to ‘expect a late pick-up time.'”
“That would be helpful, thanks.”
She instantly grasped what he wanted to say.
Sia showed a warm smile and said:
“Something good might happen that day, Lord Byleth.”
“Ah, haha… Who knows?”
He could only respond with an embarrassed laugh to these words.
At a gathering for socializing and exchanging pleasantries, receiving such invitations is an expression of feelings like ‘wanting to spend time together’ or ‘trust.’
To be honest, there was a part of him that had been trying not to be conscious of or think about the ‘affection’ directed at him.
While it’s true that his soul inhabits this body—it’s still the appearance and body of a complete stranger.
Due to complicated circumstances he couldn’t tell anyone, he had unconsciously drawn that line… but as he built relationships with attractive individuals, his resolve was wavering.
“Lord Byleth.”
“Hm?”
As his mind worked, Sia’s voice gently reached his ears.
“Whatever choice you make, I’ll always be on your side.”
“……”
Another statement that seemed to see right through him. But for Byleth, who had worries he could only resolve alone, it was also a comforting sentiment.
“Thank you… Thank you always, Sia.”
“Hehe, you’re welcome! Now then, I’ll continue to earnestly select an outfit that suits you, Lord Byleth!”
“Please do.”
Sia seemed to put even more effort into it, as if foreseeing what would happen ‘after he slips out.’
“……”
Watching her, Byleth felt something.
It might be a conceited thought, but just imagining it made his heart race.
As if to distract himself, he gripped his quill pen again and returned to his studies.
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