Brittania, late autumn, only a few days remain until Laine's wedding.
Laine and Tygris walked out from the Lake Fairy Tower, both with faces of greenish-blue hues.
"...Tygris, do you think... Alaros listened to anything?" Laine wore a silk costume of a great noble, clasped his hands behind his back, and reluctantly smiled: "I don't think he listened to a single word."
"Perhaps bringing him to meet Lilith was a mistake." Tygris, dressed in the Great Mage Robe, looked very displeased: "You didn't tell Alaros that Lilith often stays here, did you?"
"No." Laine shook his head repeatedly with his eyes closed.
Laine had been in Helunhilde for almost a week, during which many forces signed countless agreements, reached numerous consensuses. This diplomatic gala left many nobles satisfied, delighted, worried, or frowning, with each one's needs and stands fully expressed, one contract after another signed.
