Episode 23
She returned to the capital the very next day after the wedding.
He heard it from Major Wells. Isaac merely nodded, accepting it as such.
And not long after, a letter arrived, as cautious as the question she had asked him—whether she might write to him.
It said that, if he did not mind, would he care to have a meal at a restaurant in the capital?
Isaac read the letter that, at a glance, seemed like an invitation to a date twice, then three times, before finally writing back that he would like that.
Three days ago, on Friday, the moment he said he was to meet Sasha Grayson, Major Wells asked Isaac where they were going to meet. Isaac, concentrating on cleaning his gun, answered indifferently. Probably here or there, he said.
That indifferent and utterly halfhearted answer greatly offended Mrs. Wells. In a tone that, at a casual listen, could only be taken as harboring some ulterior motive, Matilda began persuading Isaac that he had to “prepare properly.”
From where Major Wells stood, what his wife was doing to his subordinate looked no different from brainwashing, but in any case, Matilda’s brainwashing that was not quite brainwashing worked quite well.
It was thanks to the deft use of her tongue, knowing full well that Isaac’s pride was especially strong. And so, before he knew it, Isaac had reserved a fine restaurant so that he could speak confidently with his companion, Sasha Grayson, without feeling intimidated.
Was that all? After hearing Matilda’s curse that was not quite a curse—that if he went out looking the way he usually did, he would be a disgrace to Lance Field—he had even ended up entrusting himself to Matilda before he left.
From the moment he saw someone who looked like some sort of guest reflected in the mirror, hair neatly combed back, Isaac realized that something had gone wrong. But by the time he realized it, it was already too late, and he was already being treated as something like the representative of Lance Field by everyone, receiving words of encouragement as he climbed into the carriage bound for the capital.
The outfit Matilda had procured—whether it was new or someone else’s, he could not tell—naturally did not fit Isaac; if anything, it was small. The tight shirt was suffocating, and the trousers squeezed his thighs as if they might burst, making his legs go numb the entire way as he sat in the carriage.
At any rate, suppressing the feeling that something had gone seriously wrong, Isaac arrived in front of the restaurant, and though he could not help cursing again as he stepped down from the carriage, he managed to endure it somewhat upon seeing nearby men dressed as refinedly as himself.
Though the moment he saw the Sasha Grayson in question, all of that came to nothing.
Even Isaac Pinscher, as blind as he was to such things, could immediately tell that her attire was rather modest compared to his. Standing beside her, he found the lace-trimmed collar in particular so insanely embarrassing he could hardly bear it. It was not a matter of feeling intimidated or not; standing next to her made him feel like a peacock.
Every time Sasha Grayson spoke to him with an appropriately bright yet polite smile, Isaac muttered inwardly that he wanted to go home.
“……Have you been waiting long?”
“Oh. No.”
To make matters worse, Sasha Grayson had arrived at the meeting place first. Isaac Pinscher, a soldier who was nothing if not strict about punctuality, could not bear even this fact. To anyone watching, it probably looked as though he had been late because he had come out dressed up like a peacock.
“……That’s goo—, I’m glad.”
Fortunately, however, she did not seem to pay as much attention to his appearance as Isaac himself was conscious of it. Strangely enough, that fact made Isaac feel a little deflated instead.
He had no idea why, but in any case, it did.
Suppressing the urge to immediately muss up this damnable hair, Isaac patiently followed the server’s guidance and walked with Sasha Grayson to their reserved table. Since he was naturally tall and the type to draw everyone’s attention wherever he went, it was only expected that everyone’s gaze would turn to him the moment he entered the restaurant.
Isaac, whose anxiety was acting up, tried to dispel his embarrassment by unconsciously muttering gloomily to himself that his shirt was too small, that the crotch was riding up, and so on. Never in his dreams did he imagine that Sasha, walking beside him, was hearing it all quite plainly.
“This place has a wonderful atmosphere. I can see why it’s so popular these days.”
“Yes.”
Isaac answered as smoothly as he could and then looked around nervously. The surroundings were full of peacocks, and judging by appearances, he thankfully seemed to fall somewhere around the level of an average peacock rather than an eccentric one.
Only after confirming that was Isaac able to order from the menu.
After that, to be honest, he did not remember much.
“The clothes you wore today are very handsome.”
At some point, Sasha seemed to have praised him like that, but Isaac was in no state to accept it normally. With an expression that questioned whether this woman was sincere or being sarcastic, he raised an eyebrow and asked back, “Handsome?” while looking at her none too kindly.
After that habitual defensive reply, a long silence followed. Isaac nervously tapped the edge of the table, consumed by the extreme thought that he would rather these small clothes tighten around him and kill him on the spot.
Of course, fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—no such thing happened.
Isaac was simply restless the entire time, feeling as if all of this had caused her to misunderstand. Matilda, who had said she would dress him up only enough so he would not feel intimidated, had made him look like a peacock blatantly begging for her attention, and Major Wells, who had said he would recommend a meeting place where Isaac would not be outdone, had suggested a splendid restaurant that, to anyone’s eye, was the very definition of a date spot.
Isaac wanted to impress upon her that none of this was his own will. Especially tormented by the memory of how insufferably he had behaved while rejecting her marriage proposal, he was ready to spill all of these words in a rush if Sasha Grayson so much as nudged him.
“How have you been all this time?”
But all those resolutions wavered and collapsed capriciously at that one insignificant remark from Sasha Grayson. Isaac, who had been staring at her almost like a glare all along with a face that seemed to be enduring something, barely managed to answer in a choked voice, “……The same.”
“Are Major Wells and his wife well?”
At the mention of the ringleaders who had created the present situation, his teeth clenched of their own accord, but even so, Isaac merely answered like a docile sheep, “They are always the same as well.”
And once again, a long silence continued. As he cut his steak into bite-sized pieces and shoved them into his mouth, he gradually grew impatient and asked her questions such as whether she liked mushrooms. Somehow, ever since entering this place, it felt as though she had been leading every conversation.
“……Is there anything in particular you like, Captain?”
After answering his question, Sasha naturally turned it back to him.
“What do you mean?”
“Food you like. Since you mentioned mushrooms first, Captain.”
It was a dry conversation with nothing special about it. But the problem was that the other person was Sasha Grayson. The problem was that she was the woman who had made that utterly unbelievable proposal.
And yet she did not seem interested in him.
Isaac Pinscher, who was both lacking in tact and quick to notice things, realized that fact swiftly. Sasha Grayson had no interest in him. She was not conscious of his presence any more than necessary, and unlike him, who was shaken by every word she said, she did not pay much mind no matter what he said.
In truth, she did not seem particularly interested in whatever answer he might give. She looked as though, even if he gave an extreme reply like, I hate the mushrooms you like to a damned degree, she would simply say, “I see.”
It felt strange.
Isaac found that side of her reassuring and unpleasant at the same time. But since he himself did not know the reason, he simply shoved more meat into his mouth irritably.
“…….”
“…….”
Once more, the silence stretched on, and Isaac stared blankly at the end of his sleeve, trimmed with frills he suddenly wanted to rip off.
Miss Grayson, even if I looked more ridiculous than this, you would have just praised me once with that dry face of yours, saying my clothes were very handsome.
It was a strange displeasure. And yet, if she had openly laughed at his appearance, it was obvious he would have been displeased as well; for him to feel bad even when it was the opposite made him think that his personality really was seriously flawed.
Suppressing the inexplicable discomfort, Isaac focused on his meal. Then, all of a sudden, he recalled what Major Wells had said while recommending this restaurant full of couples of all different ages. Competition for terrace seats was especially fierce, so he absolutely must not miss one.
The reason it was fierce was.
“Miss Grayson.”
Because that unremarkable scenery was apparently quite popular.
Isaac could not for the life of him understand why that sight—lanterns simply set afloat upon the water—was popular, but in any case, he looked at it indifferently and then gestured lightly for Sasha to look as well.
Since they had come all this way, he had meant carelessly that she might as well look at that once. Isaac thought that if she praised it as before with a dry face, saying, “It’s truly wonderful,” he would answer roughly and leave it at that.
The seat across from him was quiet. Isaac stopped pushing meat into his mouth and raised his head to look at her.
And there he found Sasha Grayson, sitting properly with only her head turned in that direction, gazing at the sight for a long while without being able to take her eyes away.
“…….”
“…….”
It was also the first moment that day that Isaac truly saw her. No, perhaps the first time since they had met.
Somewhat stupidly, Isaac watched as her green eyes were dyed by the yellow glow of the lanterns, as she unconsciously parted her lips slightly in admiration, as she concentrated on the scenery before her without even blinking, and then belatedly fluttered her long lashes, blinked, and smiled.
By the time he came to his senses, she had taken her eyes from the sight and was looking straight at him.
“It’s beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.”
As expected, it was a dry word of thanks, just as he had anticipated, and yet Isaac, for some reason.
“……Yes.”
Unable to give a proper answer, he looked back down at his plate.