The Editor Is the Novel’s Extra

Chapter 143

Three Springs (2)

“Wow.”

“Can you calm down now?”

“Ah~.”

Arthur, who carefully put down the bicycle and the two boxes of champagne, sat the first-year on a nearby stump and patiently calmed her crying down. He took one look at his dirty and crumpled cotton handkerchief before asking Kleio for his.

“I was surprised that the bicycle suddenly appeared. I’m sorry.”

Arthur was much more helpful in this situation than Kleio, who was nervous about what to do once the girl had started crying.

“Where are you going? Shall I take you?”

“No, it’s okay?”

“Will you be okay alone?”

Although he was covered in dirt, the blonde swordsman was probably Prince Arthur. Lilian wanted to vanish from this situation where the prince and her longed-for wizard senior were looking at how much of a mess she was. Without knowing what she was saying, she beckoned the two away.

“It’s okay; you look busy. Thank you.”

“Can I call your supervisor or something…?”

“I’m good! Go! I’ll take a little rest and be on my way.”

Lilian shouted, her shame on clear display in her voice. Arthur wandered around like a giant dog trying to help an injured child, but this junior was motioning for him to go away. It seemed that she didn’t want them to know who she was. Kleio, more aware of it than Arthur, pulled the prince back.

“Arthur, stop, and stand up. If you’re sick, please head to the infirmary. If you need treatment, please contact the third-year Kleio Asel.”

The junior nodded a little.

“Then, see you again!”

Arthur held the bike with the two boxes of champagne hanging from it as Kleio dragged his own slowly behind him. Lilian, who kept her head bowed until they vanished, sighed in vain.

“Oh, I had to deliver the dean’s letter…”

Lilian looked down at the handkerchief left in her hand, feeling her heart beating in her chest. The initials KA were neatly engraved on the handkerchief’s edge.

“Really, the newspapers were all lies.”

Lillian Bennet realized that even a thousand lines couldn’t accurately describe that magic or the person who created it.

.

.

.

“It was a first-year? You aren’t surprised a lot. It would be nice not to say what we saw; it’ll be bothersome if Zebedee knew.”

“The wound healed perfectly. I hope she didn’t recognize this is a liquor box.”

“Ugh, I was disciplined for breaking the ban on alcohol more than once. We can’t get caught. I won’t be able to live if I receive another punishment of forced memorization of magic.”

In the past two years, the incidents in which Kleio and Arthur had been disciplined for were all related to drinking. Last winter, when they had been caught drinking and playing under the wisterias, Zebedee had banned them from drinking on campus. Of course, they hadn’t been keeping that order properly.

“So, we need to hurry.”

“It was because we got here later than I thought. I’m worried I’ll have to get rid of all this by tomorrow.”

“Wasn’t celebrating my birthday just an excuse to drink?”

“Ah, Lei! Like you don’t want to drink, huh? You’ll be a year older than me for two months, so I’ll give you some preferential treatment! The first cup is yours!”

Today was May 1st, Kleio’s birthday. He hadn’t cared much for it in his previous life, so it was strange to care about it now. Kleio accepted it; no one was able to choose their own birthday anyway.

“Oh, if the year has passed, we’re both nineteen. When’s your birthday?”

Arthur had a serious expression.

“I can’t believe that you, who is meticulous in everything, calculate your age so roughly. Do you track it by every new year?”

Kleio flinched at Arthur’s words. That had been what he was doing.

‘Cel’s birthday is January 1st, so she does it, but this guy only bothers me.’

“It’s easy to remember because everyone grows old together.”

“You’re the only one who goes over it like that. Anyway, let’s go quickly. Don’t want to make them wait.”

On this day, even Dione had decided to join them for a celebration. So, Arthur had hurried to gather the champagne he had left in the cellar of Asel mansion. Arthur, Isiel, Cel, and the twins had all been delayed in the arrival to the capital last night.

“Oh, Lei. Shall we go to the Archbishop next week?”

“…Okay.”

“I’ll contact them. It’s been a while since then.”

Archbishop Istoria, whose condition had gradually deteriorated after their last meeting in the early spring last year, had fallen into another long sleep. Admission wasn’t normally allowed in such a case, but Kleio was able to meet the bishop who had fallen asleep once during the feast, thanks to Arthur. He had found a nearly forgotten rule that the confession of the immediate royal family must be heard by the Archbishop.

Since the royal family hadn’t confessed since the days of Queen Carmela, the Lundane parish was confused, but they eventually accepted the third prince’s petition. That was entirely thanks to Arthur’s soaring stock price. The secularized church of Albion was greatly influenced by the storms of human history and could no longer ignore Arthur, who had destroyed two Remembered Worlds. Kleio had readily accepted Arthur’s favor, having no reason not to.

Even though he had accepted a new name and birthday, memories of the past still overlapped within him. Kleio staring at Regina Istoria was a way not to forget where he had come from. The 120-year-old woman was still sleeping, someone maintaining life without food or water. It hinted at the traces of divine power that resided inside her.

Arthur’s request for confession took only a little bit of time, but he always saved five minutes for Kleio to gaze upon the sleeping Regina. Arthur would guard the door during those moments. Like the Angellium twins, he would tease him about having an unrequited love for the Archbishop, but he didn’t seem to believe it truly. Arthur regarded the bizarre meeting as a pointless act of waiting for the Goddess’s message from one of her deputies. Instead of correcting that misunderstanding, Kleio remained silent as usual.

Since destroying the amphitheater, Kleio had acted as sincerely as possible. It was because he didn’t know when, where, or in what way the gaps in the world would tear to grant Arthur new knowledge. Besides, his guess wasn’t too off. Clio was the Goddess that had granted Kleio the world, after all.

.

.

.

The research student’s lab was in the style of Unica, a coastal country in Meridis. It was a very rare style in Albion, and he heard that it was built by the dean a few generations ago. White columns with intricate decorations, corridors with walls and floors decorated with geometric mosaic tiles in indigo, turquoise and red, with dark teak doors and shutters adorned the building. It was a nice building at a glance, in good repair and clean.

But the problem was insulation. Kleio had wondered why they would build a structure suitable for a country where all four seasons were summer in a place like this. The aesthetically-conscious Dione and Cel liked the lab quite a bit, however. At least now winter had passed, and spring had arrived. Behemoth, who was sunning himself in the corridor, let out a yawn and began to clean himself. Isiel, watching the cat, reflexively reached out to pet him. She sat in a simple chair on the emerald tiles, wearing white silk clothing as silver-plated hairdressing scissors passed through her hair.

“Isiel, if you move, it’ll hurt.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Mr. Moth is rather tempting. Just a moment, I’ll need to trim your back hair a little more.”

“No, take your time.”

“Haha, thank you. Then, I’ll trim it a little bit shorter.”

“If my hair is short, it will be convenient because the preparation time is shortened.”

“No, if preparation time is a problem, I can take care of it every morning.”

“I’m grateful for having my hair trimmed once a month, but how could I have you take care of it every day?”

Isiel responded inadvertently to Cel’s sweet words. The two had become housemates last year, and one year had been enough time for the model student Isiel to grow accustomed to Cel’s tone. She protested about being unable to pet Behemoth, however.

“Meooooow? (Why blame me?)”

As the cat wobbled, Dione moved to cover the patent fee settlement documents she was looking at. It was a dream to sit outside, working with a cat on her lap. As she stretched out her arms, Behemoth jumped up with an arrogant attitude and received pats from Dione.

“Eh, Cel has some good skill with those scissors. It’s a very good beauty skill to possess.”

Cel held the scissors skillfully as she leveled Isiel’s short hair.

“Even you, Dione, has become a prisoner to that fat cat… My jealousy can’t be stopped.”

“He’s such a cute and lovely cat. Anyway, your skill is surprising.”

“Woohoo, isn’t it an attractive twist?”

“Definitely. Who passed on that skill to the dear daughter of the Tanpet family?”

“It was my grandmother. How to cut, how to make curls, how to raise your hair for the spring ball or decorate for your wedding day…”

Dione’s eyes widened.

‘Is that Marie Tanpet de Neju?’

Dione recalled an old lady with an old-fashioned, aristocratic Carolingian accent.