[283] 3. Midnight Ball (4)
Amy frowned more than Shirone did.
Display is a virtue for royalty, but she didn't seem to realize that the more he flaunted it, the more danger Shirone invited.
As Shirone scanned the noble faces in the hall, his eyes met a burly man across the room.
The man laughed heartily and strode diagonally across the hall.
"Good evening, Lord Shirone! My greeting's overdue. There was a lamb stew I like over there. Ah—pardon the manners. I'm Ritni Walker, Chief of Security. I'm in charge of the castle's safety."
For the first time Shirone smiled.
Someone in charge of security would also have responsibility for his parents' safety, so there was nothing to lose by making a good impression. Besides, Walker's blunt, unpretentious manner was pleasant.
"Hello. Pleased to meet you."
"Ha ha! Exactly! It's never a good thing to see the security chief too often!"
The man looked solid. His face showed the winters of sixty years, but his build was larger and firmer than anyone else in the hall.
When Walker offered his hand, Shirone took it.
At that moment Walker's eyes flashed, and a wave of light rushed into Shirone's mind.
Shirone felt his thoughts freeze.
This was a level of domination unlike any ocular technique he had encountered before.
But as a mage who had reached the Geumgangtae realm, he didn't surrender the initiative lightly.
Walker cocked his head as if puzzled, then—seeming to realize something—smiled and released the eye technique.
Shirone swallowed a jagged breath and stared at Walker. His thoughts had been scattered and his memory blanked for a moment, but there'd been no real hostility.
"Impressive. You withstood Clear."
"Clear? An ocular technique?"
"Yes. It injects madness into the target. With prolonged exposure you lose consciousness. But it didn't work on you, Lord Shirone."
Shirone blinked.
"You were trying to knock me out?"
"Ha! Of course not. It only shows how powerful the madness is. How powerful? Those caught by Clear can't think at all. It even scrubs mental-attribute magic clean—like using acid to remove a stain ordinary soap can't touch."
Madness is the purest state of mind a human can reach; any thought would be swept away before it.
"As the man responsible for the castle's security, I had a duty to check whether you'd been brainwashed. Sorry if it felt rude."
Shirone understood Walker's reasoning.
This was the royal household, not a battlefield. The security chief's concerns went beyond visible threats.
"It's fine. If someone's been brainwashed, they wouldn't know it themselves. I'm relieved you checked—it's like getting vaccinated."
Walker scratched his head sheepishly.
"Actually it didn't take perfectly. But if anyone can withstand decades of my Clear training, no one could brainwash Lord Shirone. Still—if you had been brainwashed… what could I have done? There's nothing I could do."
Shirone hesitated between laughing and worrying. The security chief's tone struck him as almost irresponsibly casual.
Walker winked and added, "The castle's a strange place. It's like dozens of households with different surnames living under one roof. Always guard yourself."
Shirone belatedly understood and nodded.
"I'll remember that. Pleased to meet you."
Walker laughed and crossed the hall again. Shirone smiled involuntarily as he watched him scoop up lamb stew—he was reminded of Rian.
Their meeting drew the attention of many nobles. Jion was among those watching.
After confirming Walker had left, Jion moved behind Arius and, pretending to choose food, spoke up.
"You okay? Looks like Walker tried to Clear you a moment ago."
Arius had been thinking the same thing.
That morning he had installed a door in Shirone's mind in the antechamber. If Clear had taken hold properly, it could have had an effect.
"Clear is certainly the bane of mental magic."
"So it failed?"
Arius smiled calmly. "In most cases, yes. The door isn't the same as brainwashing or hypnosis. It doesn't need to interfere deep in the subconscious. I put it at Level Eleven just in case something like this happened."
"Are you sure? What if it was broken?"
"That wouldn't happen. If Clear had reached the surface, Shirone would have passed out. Knocking out the first prince contender at a nobles' banquet would be a serious incident."
Level Eleven of the human mind is where others' thoughts rush in; even if Shirone's mind is composed, finding a door there is like looking for a needle on a beach.
Still, it sent chills down their spines when Walker tried Clear. As chief of security he must have made a hasty check, but any mental strata at Level Nine or below would have been swept away.
He can't really have believed Shirone was brainwashed. What on earth did he suspect?
Ritni Walker.
The castle's chief of security and the theorist behind Kazra's basic court swordsmanship manual—picked for the palace after winning a regional sword contest at eighteen—he had risen steadily ever since.
A security chief must be more than strong; he must understand political nuance.
Trying Clear immediately after Ataraxia's demonstration suggested he expected flies—those who cling to the archangel's power—to be nearby.
Then I'd be in his range too. Of course I'm not a fly, Jion thought.
"So what now? Walker's suspicious. You're not going to give him a reason to catch you later, are you?"
"No need to worry. Walker isn't a specialist in mental magic, and Clear, while broad in application, is simple in principle. As with any cure-all, it's not perfect. With intent, you can always work around it. Let's proceed as planned."
"Understood."
Jion filled his plate and moved away from Arius.
After Walker left, the nobles steered clear of Shirone. No one wanted trouble with the chief of security.
Seeing Shirone standing alone, Amy, quick to notice, moved over to keep him company.
"Shirone."
"Yeah. How's the party? Fun?"
Amy shrugged. "So-so."
"Same here. What've you been doing?"
Amy pointed to her eyes. "I've been watching with my red eye."
"Watching? For what?"
"How often people glance at you."
Shirone gaped.
He thought to himself that it wasn't impossible—if she'd been using some personal memory technique it'd be hard but doable—but why bother with such tedious work?
"What useful information did that get you?"
Amy pouted. "No idea. I was bored and tried it. Nothing special. You're the center of the party; people glancing at you is natural."
"Ha! Don't tell me you only just noticed that," Shirone joked, but Amy didn't laugh.
"But… I did notice one odd thing. If I'm right, there's a group that hasn't looked at you once the whole time."
She nodded toward the opposite side where mages from the Magic Department were gathered.
At that moment the middle-aged mage at the center of the group turned to look at Shirone. His gaze felt like a surgical probe into the mind; a chill ran through Shirone.
"That's Aimar Bosun, head of the Magic Department."
"That man…."
Aimar Bosun: a Grade-4 mage accredited by the Red Line.
A versatile prodigy who could handle nearly every element and oversaw the kingdom's food production—Kazra has weaker magical power than other nations, so aside from the association president there are no Grade-1s; in Tormia this post would usually be held by a Grade-3 archmage.
Even so, Bosun was beyond Shirone's reckoning.
Bosun stared at Shirone for a long moment as if settling a long irritation. Then he snorted, took a platter from a table, and walked over.
"Good evening. I'm Aimar Bosun."
Shirone and Amy bowed.
Politics aside, a Grade-4 of the Red Line was a towering senior. Though Shirone ranked higher in the castle hierarchy, showing respect to a senior mage was a matter of pride.
"I was impressed—the archangel's power is something else. You'll be a great asset to Kazra. Naturally, provided Lord Shirone becomes the first prince."
Shirone fell silent, unnerved.
The same taunt from Jion had felt different; Bosun's words cut like a blade.
Bosun offered the food he'd taken from the opposite table. "Would you like some?"
"No. I—"
Shirone's face drained when he looked at the dish.
It was a chocolate called Fresh Truffle, dusted with cocoa powder—the same kind of dessert that had once been served in his family's meals with a lethal dose of poison.
A chill of murderous intent rose in Shirone's chest. Had Bosun been attempting an assassination?
No—whether or not he was the perpetrator, the act was vicious.
Bosun watched Shirone's expression, cocked his head, and asked, "Hm? Why the face? Don't like chocolate? It's really quite good."
Shirone wanted to smash Bosun's jaw as he chewed. He was that heated.
Yet Bosun was calm, and that only made Shirone angrier.
"This…!"
Before he realized it, a sound escaped him. Amy grabbed his hand.
It was a trap. Every noble knew Fresh Truffle had been tainted before; Bosun was merely trying to needle Shirone.
Shirone pulled himself together and calmed down.
Seeing his provocation fail, Bosun lost interest and took the platter back.
"It was a pleasure. Excuse me."
As Bosun left, the mages who had barely glanced his way before now sneered at Shirone.
They were mages no one would take lightly. Shirone was suddenly reminded of exactly where he stood.
"Shirone, you okay? That bastard provoked you on purpose. Good restraint."
"Yeah. He's nasty."
Night deepened but the ball went on.
Perhaps loosened by drink, the nobles danced Kazra's traditional social dances to the court musicians' tunes. This was when Shirone's group needed to move.
With alcohol flowing and conversations with women turning lax, people let things slip. Reina's keen hearing would eavesdrop on those slips.
By the original plan, Shirone and Reina should have entered the ballroom by now. But Amy reported Reina standing in a corner, hesitating.
She seemed dispirited from the daytime incident.
'Is she always like this? She's different from how she appears.'
He didn't dislike her kindness, but a small heaviness sat in his chest.
They still had work to do, so he sighed and went to Reina, giving her a gentle nudge toward Shirone.
Reina yielded to the nudge and walked over, though she hesitated for a long while.
Shirone smiled and extended his hand. He still felt bad about getting angry with her earlier.
"Shall we start?"
When Shirone treated her kindly, Reina's playfulness returned.
"All that nagging you put me through—if I don't use it, I'd feel cheated, right?"
Taking his lead, Reina moved through the ballroom. Dozens of couples danced the same steps, brushing past them.
A musician can spot a sour note among dozens of instruments. To Reina, human voices were instruments too, and she gathered a wealth of information.
Talk of booking a summer villa right away. Gossip about switching banks that handle slush funds. Secret meetings arranged in rooms because the guards are tight.
If something big is coming, it shows up in conversation. But from what Reina had picked up so far, there was no particular atmosphere to indicate anything major.