# 112
“…When exactly do you compliment me?”
“When we greet people at a party.”
All those compliments that Sirius kept recounting came back to mind like a torrent.
Compliments like: “Similar to Darren’s smile.” Which makes the recipient want to disappear, and the listener flees from embarrassment.
And he would say something like this, in front of that big crowd?
“Why do you praise your partner in front of others?”
“Because she is my partner.”
Dayarin thought that these events were held to praise others, but she was wrong.
His partner receives all the praise, while others only get one or two compliments.
There is still time. Are you running away?
She did not have the courage to stand in the middle of luxurious nobles laughing elegantly as she received a stream of compliments from the prince.
“These dresses aren't even suitable for a tea party.”
"…This is amazing?"
“That's why it was given to you.”
By Diarren's standards, these dresses were stunning. Even if not sold out, the buttons and lace alone are enough to amass a fortune. And outside the palace, there is no doubt that it would be so.
But inside the palace… it was a completely different world.
“So you should have a new dress made, Diarren.”
"…Good."
According to Sirius, her unassuming appearance might actually make her a nuisance.
"But fine fabrics must be used for your clothes, Sirius. I cannot compromise on that point."
Sirius furrowed his eyebrows, uncomfortable with her request. But Djarin's threat that she would not back down made even Sirius hesitate to object.
If he had been the previous Sirius, he would have simply said “okay” and that was it. But Sirius, who had become more cunning, did not let the matter end there.
“Then make five dresses.”
“…why?”
For Dearyn, this concert was her last commitment. Even if she stayed at the palace while Sirius got better, she had no intention of attending another party this lavish.
“Aren't you going to accompany me to parties anymore?”
“After this ceremony, you will either be an official prince or an elite noble… Will I still be necessary?”
“If Diarin is not by my side, I might lose my mind.”
Dearyn narrowed her eyes and looked at him. She no longer believed his words. He's just pretending to be crazy. But she knows, if she shows that she's actually walking away, he'll do everything in his power to convince her that he's really crazy.
“…Okay, I get it.”
Deyarin abandoned resistance. No need to argue about dresses before the party even starts. One dress or five...what's the difference? Just a money difference, nothing more.
...But what she thought was simple, was a huge mistake.
“Well, how about we try this chest tape?”
“I don't like it.”
“Ah, so how about these flowers for decoration?”
“Put it below the waist.”
“Oh, excellent suggestion! I like that option too!”
“Not that color, I want it a little lighter.”
“…I will look for another color immediately.”
In order to make five dresses, Diarine had to try on fifty types of fabrics and one hundred and fifty types of embellishments.
She didn't know this beforehand.
“This fabric reflects on the face and makes it brighter! It's like you always carry a reflective plate with you!”
"pale."
Ceres's assessment was decisive and conclusive.
The tailor returned after a while, excitement blazing in his eyes.
“Actually, I've always wanted to try designing dresses.”
Some designers specialize in dresses only, others in men's suits. Only a few are good at both.
If this tailor worked inside the palace, there is no doubt that he was skilled in men's suits. But he had a high spirit of challenge.
As enthusiastic as he was, the debate over the dresses was heated.
In the midst of all this, Deyarin was the only one whose enthusiasm faded with time.
“It's not the dress that's faded... it's my face that's become dull...”
“Diaren’s face is always as bright as the morning sun.”
“Right! Such purity… with a slight yellow touch! It could be a sophisticated complexion if we added some makeup!”
But the tailor's words of flattery were not enough to bridge the gap between reality and flattery.
Deyarin's weary face was falling.
What is this face? Morning sun? Pure white? Dearyn began to suspect that there was a cheap spell casting a shadow over Sirius's eyes.
“Enough for today.”
Deyaren announced the end of the dress shopping session.
Five designs finished. Now what remained was to choose the last piece of cloth, out of Sirius' greed.
If they came across the perfect fabric, he said, it would be the “Destiny Dress.”
Perhaps if she were an ordinary noble girl, these words would be enough to ignite her heart with excitement.
But Diyarin, who had nowhere to go in this dress, did not feel anything.
Ten years ago...she might have been happy.
But now that she has given up everything as a priestess, it is just a worthless luxury.
“This way? If you are tired, have a refreshing cup of juice, and then we will continue after a short break.”
“We won't be able to finish anything today. Leave.”
Diarin said coldly, and took out the tailor.
The party is near. Even if they start today and stay up all night, they won't be confident of getting a single dress done on time.
But human greed is... really scary.
“Aaah!”
As soon as the tailor left, Dearyn threw herself on the sofa.
Sirius moved closer and tucked his thigh under her head softly, as if offering a pillow.
Yes, she needed a pillow…but not Sirius' thigh.
She was about to faint from exhaustion, but she opened her eyes and stared down at Sirius.
“Resting in this position speeds up your energy recovery.”
"for whom?"
"for you."
"Me, no."
"Me, no."
Sirius was trying to imitate what Deyarin sometimes did, putting his head on her knee or hugging him from behind, thinking that by doing so he would return her attention.
“Um...so, shall I kiss you?”
"…What?"
Dayaren was shocked by the word that came out of nowhere.
Engagement, marriage, love, and now a kiss?
All the packet words came out at once.
“Why are you bringing this up all of a sudden?”
“In old stories... they say that a kiss wakes up even those who have died.”
Dearyn stared into Sirius's eyes while she was still lying down, while he returned the look steadily without batting an eyelid.
His looks were confident, bold...the looks of someone whose name might shine in elite society.
But to Dyaren now, those looks were nothing but an annoying threat.
“…If you kiss me, I will really die.”
“Is a kiss from me that unpleasant?”
“Don't pretend to be sad, I know you don't feel anything.”
“This is sad...”
Sirius murmured in a soft voice, pretending to be distressed, but Djarin, who had become an expert in him, saw that his mind was actively working behind that appearance, and she no longer felt any pity for him.
“You're going to pretend to be miserable to make me kiss you, aren't you?”
“…”
He couldn't deny it, so he closed his mouth with an embarrassed look.
“Kiss a pretty girl you meet at a party later.”
"…Good."
“But except me.”
“…It's unfair.”
Dearyn's interactions with Sirius were nothing new to her.
She cleverly blocked all paths that he might try to walk towards her. Although Sirius frowned slightly, he did not insist. At least, he still remembered that kisses were not something taken by force.
“Dyaren, are you resting now?”
"Hmm? Why?"
“Because we will start rehearsing for the concert.”
“Practice… for the ceremony?”
“Dyaren, you don’t know anything about dancing or high society etiquette, do you?”
Sirius's eyes flashed sharply.
There was a slight sense of revenge in his tone…
“…Right, I don’t know.”
The truth was that Deyarin had not been taught these things.
Perhaps the Third Prince's party overlooked this aspect, or thought there was no need to train her as long as she was not the central figure in the ceremony.
But since she was going to enter the hall holding Sirius's hand, it was better not to be a joke.
And her teacher, who knows court etiquette better than anyone, is at her side, so no problem.
“Okay. Teach me well.”
Dearyn took his hand and stood up resolutely.
Sirius hid his sullen expression that was demanding a kiss, turned into an elegant gentleman, and led her into the wide expanse of the hall.
They put one hand together, the other hand around the waist—a position they were accustomed to. But standing face to face and exchanging glances… was still a bit awkward.
“Darren, you should look at me.”
“Ah, yes...”
She knew it, but she wasn't used to it, so she was ashamed.
When she didn't look up, Sirius reached out and gently grabbed her chin.
“!”
They were a man's fingers, strong and steady. Her face had never been held like this before.
Her heart suddenly jumped, then calmed down little by little.
She took a deep breath, then finally looked up steadily.
Sirius looked at her very calmly, as if he was waiting for her to calm down.
His calm gaze helped her regain her balance.
“Dyaren, you should just relax.”
“As for the steps...?”
“Only, if my body leans this way...”
“Ah…”
When Sirius leaned, she found herself unconsciously leaning with him. She didn't decide to move, but he guided her body as if he was guiding it with his hands.
“Hey, I didn't decide to move...!”
Is this the dancing of the nobles?
I've always wondered why some people are said to "dance so well." Now, I understand that these are the ones who can lead others with natural and perfect movements.
Diarine opened her eyes wide in astonishment.
Sirius looked at her from above, smiling gently.
"I did well."
“…!”
He praised her.
She was always the one praising him, but this time, Sirius was the one praising her.
Their relationship was changing.
But she didn't mind that.
She felt embarrassed and lowered her head.
“Raise your head.”
“But...”
“Dyaren.”
Without noticing, she had begun to move lightly, as if dancing.
And that's why...
When Sirius called her name, she raised her head as if under a gentle spell.
Their gazes met, then her eyes fell on his lips.
Red lips in a calm and coordinated color.
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