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Perhaps because everyone was so focused on such a magnificent ball, or perhaps because they didn't want their skin stung by the harsh wind and rain, the area around the half-open giant double doors and the quaint small terraces was uniformly deserted.
Before returning to the ballroom, Valentin lightly took my hand.
Stepping closer, he smiled as he carefully brushed away the droplets of water clinging to my hair. It was a very satisfied smile.
“A wonderful justification... Honestly, I am impressed. I didn't realize Your Highness was lost in such deep contemplation while listening to my story. However, unfortunately, you were wrong about one thing.”
“Wrong? About what?”
“The one who gave Prince Ivan a chance was not I, but you.”
Me?
‘What does he mean by that?’
Was he giving me the credit, even if only formally? But Valentin wasn't the type of person to do that.
It was then.
“Larisa.”
Startled, I spun around. Standing there was a tall young man, carrying the warmth of the indoors rather than the chill of the outside air, his brow furrowed.
“Seryozha?”
“What conversation is so interesting? To the point where you can't even hear my voice.”
I could feel a distinct discomfort emanating from Sergei as he shot a sidelong glance at Valentin. Duke Nikitin suddenly crossed my mind, but I quickly shook off the distracting thought and offered a brief apology.
“I suppose I held Your Highness for too long. I feel a bit guilty toward the young men who must have been anxious.”
Valentin gave my back a light push toward Sergei.
“Please go inside. I shall return after attending to some other business.”
What? Then what about the dance? Why is he running away again? When on earth is he going to dance with me!
...I am not so immature as to grumble aloud. In the end, I could only nod, blaming the tactless Sergei for interrupting.
“Then we... um, what about the rest of the story? As I said before, there is still so much I want to ask you. Truly, so much.”
“I wonder. Come to think of it, quite some time has passed since you received the last letter. Please write to me, Your Highness. I shall provide the answers to your questions in my reply.”
“Okay, thank you.”
Letters! As I beamed at the familiar method, Valentin smiled back, patted Sergei on the shoulder, and stepped back.
“I entrust Your Highness to you. Keep her side for any eventuality.”
“...Why are you entrusting Larisa to me?”
It was a question asked while suppressing a surge of unpleasant emotion. Sergei glared at Valentin with hostile eyes.
“Do not misunderstand. For the past four years, the one who stayed by Larisa's side was not you, but I. Even if I were to ask, I am the one in the position to do so.”
“Wait, Seryozha.”
“With what audacity do you, who sent a mere few letters over several years, entrust Lara to me? Do you know how desperately Larisa waited for word from you while you were wandering here and there in high spirits?”
“Stop it.”
“Do you know how pitiful it was, to the point that my heart ached just watching her from the side—"
Unable to bear it any longer, I pushed his chest away.
“Sergei Ivanovich Nikitin! Do you not hear me telling you to stop?”
Hearing his full name for the first time in years felt incredibly strange. Especially the surname ‘Nikitin’ at the end.
High spirits, desperately, pitiful... The descriptions he mentioned were absurdly ridiculous, and the act of blaming Valentin was so shameful that my voice rose.
“I simply cannot understand. Sergei, why are you saying such things? How can you act this way right in front of me?”
“...Lara.”
“Do you think you're the only one who thinks of me and worries about me? What about me? Do you know how much I cherish you, and yet you...!”
Sergei, gripping both my arms, spoke with a flustered expression.
“I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. I apologize, Lara. Please calm down.”
“Then why do something you have to apologize for!”
“It's because you are so precious to me. I mean it.”
I mean it... Whispering as if whining, he pulled me into an embrace by my shoulders.
“I thought he was shaking you up as he pleased. I simply couldn't contain my anger.”
Of course he did. If it was Sergei, he would.
Knowing he had no other ulterior motive, I couldn't raise my voice further. Instead, I let out a sigh and pushed Sergei away somewhat coldly. And the moment I did, my eyes met Valentin's, who was standing beyond him.
His gaze blinked slowly, passing over me to linger on Sergei.
“...To me.”
The pale face spoke leisurely, as cool as a ghost.
“Since you advise me that I lack the qualification to ask, shall I just take it back as if it never happened?”
Valentin looked as if he were about to seize Sergei by the throat at any moment. No, in fact, Sergei's right arm, which had been touching me, was now gripped by Valentin. Veins popped irritably on the back of the large hand clutching the wrist.
Sergei's face stiffened. In that moment of unfamiliar ferocity, even my own steps instinctively retreated.
“It was a joke, Young Duke Nikitin.”
“...”
“Endure it, even if you are displeased. As long as Her Highness permits, I intend to continue entrusting her to you. I like that attitude of yours—being endlessly sincere toward Her Highness.”
As if nothing had happened, Valentin lightly patted Sergei's shoulder and turned back to me.
“Now, please go back inside. I shall not hinder you any further.”
Then, he turned and departed abruptly. The strength left my entire body.
‘Sigh... I'm exhausted.’
I knew Seryozha disliked Valentin, but still, this was too much.
I stared at Valentin's unwavering retreating figure before warning Sergei.
“Don't ever do this again, Sergei.”
Looking back at me with an expressionless face, he let out a distorted sneer.
“I am always second to you, aren't I?”
I rubbed my face with my hand, suppressing the frustration rising in my throat.
“Why are you self-harming in that way? I simply pointed out your rudeness. You know that too, don't you?”
“No, I don't.”
“Do not compare Valentin and yourself. You are precious to me. In a different sense than Valentin, you are an irreplaceablely precious existence to me.”
“That is not enough.”
Fingertips reaching out through the air grasped my fingers.
“That is not enough, Lara... For the past few years, I believed that if there were to be a master of the seat beside you, it would be me. Was that wrong? Was I mistaken?”
Unlike his lips, which were being harshly bitten, his touch was incredibly cautious. As if he were terrified.
“Do not chase him any longer, Lara.”
His eyes, now deeper, pleaded with me.
“The one who can do anything for you is not that man, but me.”
My heart ached.
I like you enough, too. There are few people around me whom I cherish as much as you. Why can you not be satisfied?
“You know, Seryozha. There are many men in the world who can do anything for me.”
“...”
“But I have never wanted such things from you. Because you are a special person to me.”
“...How much?”
The hand holding mine became desperately urgent.
“How special am I to you?”
“A very special and precious friend. Someone who cannot be replaced by anyone.”
I no longer had the confidence to look into Sergei's eyes. When I read the clear despair and disappointment on his face, I turned away without hesitation. Giving an unwanted wound to someone I liked was a truly terrible sensation.
I pushed through the pouring light and returned to the ballroom.
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