Chapter 149 - <6>
Happy New Year. I look forward to working with you again this year.
I pray that this will be a good year for all of you.
Nozomu Sakamoto
While the troupe members were enjoying their shopping at the bazaar, Anna and Constanze's special training continued. After returning to his tent for a brief rest, Edward stood alone in the plaza before the big top.
Franz was still holed up in the back of the tent, crunching numbers on his documents. But out in the plaza before him, Ritz was working skillfully, as if he had been a member of this circus from the very beginning. The work, which involved plenty of witty banter, seemed to suit him, and he appeared to be getting along well with his fellow backstage laborers.
Edward had a sudden thought.
What kind of life would Ritz have led if, back then, Edward hadn't extended a hand—if he'd simply given him money and food and left him there? And how would he himself, without his partner, have survived that civil war?
Looking up at the darkening sky, Edward imagined himself living in a world where Ritz didn't exist. If Ritz hadn't been there, Edward would likely have self-destructed amidst the responsibility, pressure, and loneliness that weighed so heavily upon him during the war.
Even if that had happened, the military specialists in Edward's camp might have still led them to victory. But Edward didn't believe he could have become the kind of king he was now after claiming the throne. He suspected that as the years passed, he would have become a dark ruler, filling his loneliness with power.
At that time, Edward had saved Ritz, but the one who was truly saved was Edward. It was because they had walked the path of war together that he had become the man he was today, capable of guiding Yuresla to a long and lasting peace. The mere five years he had spent with Ritz had saved Edward, and in turn, saved Yuresla.
This was an unshakable truth within Edward, but Ritz would surely never know of these feelings. Nor did Edward have any intention of telling him.
By meeting Ritz and living alongside him, Edward had been able to save himself and his country. But hadn't that, in turn, caused Ritz to suffer?
If they hadn't forged such a deep friendship back then, Ritz might never have lived by the sword; perhaps he would have become a traveling performer, putting his agility to use. Acrobats were always on the road, making a living, so he likely wouldn't have felt the passage of time so keenly, being the only one not to age.
Once they reached a certain age, star performers would leave the circus, and new acrobats would join one after another. He would have had no time to feel his age.
Indeed, Marguerite had said she was already about two hundred years old.
He was brought back to his senses when a passing troupe member called out to him. There was no point in thinking about such things now. But after passing through Ritz's homeland and as memories of their time together resurfaced, he occasionally found himself lost in such thoughts. Perhaps it was because they had passed through his own homeland just before coming to Fornu.
Having no work assigned to him on account of being an “old man,” Edward watched with interest as the plaza gradually transformed. Eventually, the sun sank behind the mountain ridges of Roshozu, dyeing the sky crimson.
As the sound of hammers ceased and the amusement park rides began to turn with a creak, a large crowd gathered at the Marguerite Circus Troupe's big top.
Merchants, of course, but also a great many dressed-up members of the Fire Clan were beginning to assemble. Even the women known as the Flame Warriors were, for tonight at least, adorned with accessories made of bright red jewels and wore sleeveless, form-fitting, one-piece garments.
The skirts were split down the front center, revealing their muscular thighs with every step. They must have prioritized ease of movement so they could fight at a moment's notice. No matter their appearance, they were warrior women.
The lifespan of the Fire Clan was about three hundred years for women and two hundred for men—a significant difference. Almost all the men, as soon as they were old enough, went to the mines to dig for Ougin, then used the volcanic heat to process the special metal into beautiful crafts. They loved their creations, and they loved the mines.
But perhaps because of this, the men's lifespans were short. Marguerite had said it was likely because they spent most of their time in tunnels away from the sunlight. That was why the Fire Clan practiced polyandry, with a single Flame Warrior protecting several men. They also said that more male children were born.
He had now seen three different races—the Clan of the Earth in Red Valley, the Clan of Light in Ciedena, and the Fire Clan of Roshozu—and all of them possessed entirely different attributes. The humans living in each country were all the same race, so why were these others so different? But Edward was only human; he couldn't possibly comprehend the goddess's design.
A woman, followed by several men, led her children by the hand with a joyful smile. The men and her children alike wore bright, cheerful expressions. Roshozu strictly forbade contact with the outside world, and their daily lives were almost entirely tied to the mines. So perhaps these festivals, held only a few times a year, were their only chance to let loose and have fun.
As he meandered through the crowd, he came across Ritz turning a giant crank with several other men.
"You look bored, Ed."
Ritz wiped the sweat from his neck with a towel as he said this during a break between rides. Large beads of sweat he hadn't managed to wipe away dotted his forehead.
"You, on the other hand, are getting quite the workout."
"Yeah, well. Got to build up my strength sometimes, right?"
"You certainly build it up with something awfully large."
"You bet. A guy like me needs a challenge this big."
His words were half in desperation, but seeing what was at the other end of that crank made Edward smile. There was a merry-go-round. There must be a few more men at another crank on the opposite side.
"When's your break?"
"I synced it up with Anna and Constanze's act. Let me know when it's almost their turn."
Just as Ritz said that, the clown who had been seating people on the merry-go-round raised a flag. It seemed to be the signal to start turning.
"Sheesh, not even a moment to catch my breath."
"Tough luck. Keep at it until I come get you."
"Yeah, yeah."
Shrugging, Ritz once again began to turn the crank with the men beside him. Gemma was right; he certainly didn't act like a famous warrior. But Ritz loved a good festival, so he was probably having the time of his life. And what was amusing was that while Ritz might seem careless, he took things like this seriously. The real Ritz was, surprisingly, a serious man.
If he weren't serious, he never would have risked his life to fight alongside Edward, nor would he have fallen in love with Anna.
An image of the old Ritz flashed through his mind. The sight of him standing by Edward's side with complete trust and a huge grin had always been a source of support. Edward had never once thought him as insincere as Ritz himself seemed to believe.
"Well then, gentlemen, do your best until showtime."
When he said this with the perfect expression of a kindly old man, Ritz sighed in exasperation, while the other men waved at Edward with smiles. Playing a regular old man was fun once in a while. But to do it all the time… as Ritz would say, it's not my style.
Decorated with colorful lamps and countless mirrors, the merry-go-round played a cheerful melody as it spun, inviting the people on their white horses into a world of fantasy. With each rotation, it scattered a dazzling light, dyeing the surroundings in primary colors. It was a fantastical yet common festival scene, one he hadn't seen in a long time since becoming king.
Edward once again ambled through the plaza.
A long line had formed for the Ferris wheel, which towered even over the big top, and people of all ages wore joyful smiles. Next to it was another crank with several men. The men's shouts, the festive, excited buzz of the crowd, and the exchanged laughter all blended together, filling the space like a gentle wave.
The older acrobats of the troupe had become clowns, playing hand-cranked organs for the children who stared with wonder-filled eyes. The music, somehow melancholic and full of nostalgia, vibrated high and low through the air, echoing across the phantom tent village that had sprung up within Roshozu.
Edward simply walked through the unique atmosphere. He knew he would probably never again experience the people's fervor and the distinct sentimentality of a festival, so he committed it all to memory.
He understood well enough that this would likely be his last journey. He was no longer young, and leaving the country would become a physical challenge. He had a feeling that this atmosphere, tinged with a certain wistfulness, was telling him that when he met Franz's master, Artis Ozmand, and returned to the capital, his travels would all be over.
But he had no regrets. Franz and Anna didn't know it, but Edward had always dreamed of traveling the continent. He had sealed that dream away when he threw himself into the civil war to seize the throne, but of course, Ritz had remembered. Perhaps that was why Ritz, who had initially complained, telling him to go back to the capital and that everyone was worried, had at some point stopped saying anything.
That was why he was enjoying every day of this once-in-a-lifetime journey far more than he ever did as king. Saying something like that would surely make Franz scowl again.
He didn't know how long he'd been wandering, but when he returned near the big top, he ran into a familiar face. It was Gemma, wearing an outfit of the same style as the other Flame Warriors he'd seen, but in a stunningly vibrant red, along with a necklace of glittering diamonds.
Her crimson hair was gently swept up, like a flowing river of fire. A man was walking beside her. A man of the Fire Clan.
"King Edward, are you enjoying yourself?"
Gemma, who had supposedly been furious after losing to Ritz in an informal match that morning, was now smiling cheerfully. Marguerite had told him that the Fire Clan, including the Flame Warriors, rarely held grudges.
"I am no longer king."
"Should I call you Your Grace, the Grand Duke, then?"
"I am not the king of the Fire Clan. Edward is sufficient."
"Understood. This is my husband, Ordo."
He had already heard about the man who served as a witness to that morning's duel from Ritz and Franz. After shaking hands with the man said to be a taciturn Ten Priest, Gemma took something out of a small pouch she was carrying.
"Then, Edward, I would like you to give this to your right-hand man. I need a little more time to cool my head before I can face him."
Gemma said this with a still-vexed expression. It seemed her animosity toward Ritz hadn't faded yet.
What she held out was a single, aged document. Reading the words written on it, Edward couldn't help but smile. It was an invitation to the Fire Clan's holy land. The wariness of the Fire Clan, to put even something like this in writing, and the warmth of this invitation, which had been used for generations, gave him a glimpse into their hearts.
"We will see you on the day off, the day after tomorrow."
With those parting words, Gemma disappeared with Ordo before Edward could even thank them. Unlike the other Flame Warriors, Gemma's husband was apparently just the one man. Being a Ten Priest, he must hold a special position himself.
Time flew by as he passed by the merchants' stalls, bought a bottle of beer at a stand, and sat on a nearby bench to people-watch. They say people change with the country, and the chosen people gathered here in Roshozu were overflowing with life force. It was truly a land of fire, cradled in the bosom of flames.
"Edward."
He turned at the hesitant tap on his shoulder to see Franz standing there. He must have been mindful of the people around them, calling him by name instead of 'Your Majesty.'
"What is it?"
"It's almost time, isn't it?"
"Oh, right. Where's Ritz?"
"I asked him where you were a minute ago and he told me…"
"I just bought some myself."
Ritz plopped down next to him without a word of warning, put a beer bottle to his lips, and drained it in one go.
"Ahhh! Beer after breaking a sweat! That's a man's pleasure."
As Ritz let out a contented sigh, Franz's utterly cold voice overlapped.
"Such an old man."
"Shaddup, sorry for being an old man. You want one?"
While offering one to Franz, the sweat-drenched Ritz put another bottle to his lips. He'd apparently bought several.
"I'll pass. My stomach hurts a little."
Franz's face was a little pale as he said this.
"Is something wrong?"
Edward gestured for him to sit, and after Franz slowly lowered himself down, he asked the question again. Franz sighed.
"The thought of Constanze and Anna going on stage…"
It seemed he was so nervous he was making himself sick, even though he wasn't the one performing. It was an unimaginable change from the days when he had no interest in what others did. Edward let a smile slip, and Ritz started poking Franz teasingly.
"It's not like you're the one going up there, right?"
"I know, but they're taking money for it, and I'm just wondering if they can put on a show that's worth it."
Ritz burst out laughing at the strangely money-focused but sincere remark. Edward laughed too. But the person in question tilted his head, unable to understand why he was being laughed at.
"What?"
As Franz questioned Ritz with a confrontational tone, Edward placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled gently.
"Well then, shall we go see the cause of that stomachache? I believe it's about time."
Though he would snap at Ritz, Franz couldn't be forceful with Edward. He sighed and relaxed his shoulders. He stood up silently and started walking toward the big top. After nodding to Ritz, Edward followed him.
Ritz returned the two empty bottles to the shop where he'd bought the beer and came back carrying the remaining two. He was probably so worried about Anna that he couldn't bear to watch without a drink. The fact that his behavior wasn't so different from Franz's made it all the more amusing.
Avoiding the crowded main entrance, the three of them entered the tent from the back. They weaved their way through the jumbled backstage area—a chaotic mix of performers waiting for their turn, animals, large props, small props, and costumes—and headed for the stage.
In the wings of that bustling backstage area stood Marguerite, dressed in a black tailcoat and a silk top hat. She wore red high heels that matched her bright red lips.
"Well, well, you're late. All the good seats are taken."
Marguerite said this jokingly. Peeking at the audience from the stage, he could see that the seats were indeed so full that it was standing room only. Onstage, clowns were performing tricks like ball-riding and juggling. Every time a clown feigned a mistake, a wave of laughter erupted from the audience.
"You can stay over there, but what'll you do?"
Marguerite pointed to the orchestra pit directly below the stage. It was a spot hidden from the audience, but it seemed to offer a good view of the stage. Every time the clowns made a strange move, a musician would make an odd sound with a peculiar instrument.
"It's Anna and Constanze's big debut. You guardians should watch from the front. Well, it's noisy, though."
Considering the noise, the orchestra pit seemed like a tough spot, but for watching the stage head-on, it was a prime seat. There was no reason to refuse if it was just to see them. Naturally, the three of them decided to sit there. As he was about to follow the silent Franz, Ritz stopped and asked Marguerite a question.
"Is this okay, Chief?"
Ritz held up his beer. He was asking if it was alright to drink there. Marguerite laughed heartily at such a brazen Ritz.
"You've got some nerve. The orchestra drinks while they play, too. Take it with you."
"Thanks."
A smile escaped Edward's lips as Ritz walked off cheerfully.
"What is it, Ed?"
Ritz, with his sharp hearing, spun around.
"It's not that you're brazen, it's that you're surprisingly delicate, so you need a drink, right?"
"…What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're so worried about Anna, you can't be without a drink, is that it?"
Ritz's confident smile instantly stiffened. He really was an easy man to read.
"…Sometimes, it pisses me off how you can see right through me."
"I don't need to read your mind. It's written all over your easy-to-read face."
"You're the only one who can read it, Ed."
"Of course. Unlike you, I have a head that works well."
"Hmph. Keep talking."
Looking sullen, Ritz quickly made his way to the orchestra pit.
There was a reason why only Edward could so easily understand what Ritz was thinking. Edward knew the old, more emotional Ritz well. Now, Ritz hid that part of himself behind a fearless and cheerful mask, but occasionally, fragments of his past emotions would surface on his face. Seeing that made it obvious.
At some point, the clowns disappeared from the stage, and it grew dark. Guided by the faint light leaking from the orchestra pit, Edward lowered himself into an empty chair. The orchestra played a lively tune to dispel the boredom of the darkness and build excitement for the next act.
The inside of the big top was filled with the audience's expectant murmurs and excitement, and a stuffy heat from the body heat of so many people.
After a while, the tune the orchestra was playing changed. Soft string instruments began to play a gentle, sweet melody with a touch of sadness, at a steady tempo.
Soon, two dancers holding torches appeared, dancing across the stage in time with the music, lighting the lamps in order from the edge. As each lamp was lit, the stage and the figure standing upon it emerged from the darkness.
In the center of the stage stood a slender, fragile, yet dreamily beautiful girl, her eyes closed.
Her pinned-up hair was adorned with a rose made of soft, light-blue organza, and she wore a soft, flowing, knee-length minidress of the same material, but her feet were bare. And on her face, enhanced with makeup, was a gentle yet confident smile.
When the dancers had finished lighting all the lamps, the girl in the center raised both hands high above her head and crossed them in a slow, dance-like motion. At that moment, a glowing sphere of water appeared in the air.
He could tell Ritz, sitting next to him, had gasped.
"No way…"
The girl opened her eyes. The color of her pupils was a sun-dappled green… The beautiful girl was Anna.
Her makeup made her look a little more strong-willed than her usual gentle self, but the bright sparkle in her eyes was unchanged.
That Anna, as if she had noticed the three of them in the orchestra pit, smiled brightly at them. Her gaze was directed at the man in the center of the three, her precious Ritz.
Edward's eyes, too, shifted to Ritz. He could see him downing his beer with a slightly trembling hand, clearly flustered. With a wry smile at the pitiable sight, Edward shifted his gaze from Ritz back to Anna on the stage.
Anna's gaze had already turned to the audience. A soft smile graced her lips.
The thirty-centimeter water sphere she had just summoned slowly rotated like a living creature, softly changing shape in her hands. As if cherishing it, she rolled it from hand to hand, from arm to arm, and then, gently pressing her lips to it, she blew on it.
Like a soap bubble, the water sphere transformed into countless droplets, which then soared into the air in the next instant, following her hands.
The droplets glittered and shone, reflecting the lamp flames. It was a fantastical sight.
While their attention was drawn to the droplets, Anna had created two small water spheres. She skillfully juggled them with both hands. Soon, two became three, and then they merged into a single large sphere, too big for Anna to hold in her hands.
The audience's gaze was fixed on that large sphere. Anna released it into the air with a slow motion.
Beneath the water sphere that rose as if it had no weight at all, Anna closed her eyes and, just as before, raised her hands in a slow, dance-like motion. With her arms still crossed, Anna opened her eyes and slowly looked around the audience with an expression like a child about to play a prank. As the audience held its breath, wondering what would happen, Anna did a single pirouette. Her light-blue dress swirled softly.
The moment Anna threw open her crossed hands, the sphere of water shattered with a violent splash.
The shattered water scattered not only on the stage but also into the audience. A cheerful cheer mixed with screams rose from the crowd. It had grown quite hot inside, so the audience likely wasn't inclined to be angry. In fact, it had cooled the temperature down a bit.
At the center of the stage, a smiling Anna crossed her feet, held up her skirt, and curtsied. The cheers grew even louder. Anna slowly created a single water sphere for the crowd, then gently tossed it into the air. As everyone's gaze focused on it, the sphere popped.
At the same time, a soft light bloomed in the air. A gondola was suspended there, and sitting in it was a girl in a red dress of a similar design to Anna's, but a contrasting color.
The girl, who had a naturally strong-willed personality, wore a determined expression, and the bright red rose ornament in her hair further enhanced her shining golden locks. Constanze was there, possessing a presence that belied her nine years of age.
The gondola descended smoothly and silently.
The music that had been playing during Anna's performance slowed to a leisurely tempo. On the gondola, which had landed at the center of the stage, the girl stood up. Her long skirt flowed gracefully.
Constanze stared straight at the audience with a challenging gaze and opened her lips. A unique singing voice—soft, sweet, and yet poignant within its childish high pitch—flowed out from her small body.
"This song…"
Ritz murmured quietly.
"Brings back memories, doesn't it?"
"It does. Is it still sung?"
"Yes. Especially in that land."
"I see."
Ritz's eyes narrowed nostalgically as he said this. It was said that this song was created nearly forty years ago. To be precise, it was around the time the civil war began. The story goes that it was first sung in a large tavern in Glein, in the Glein Autonomous Region where Edward was raised, by the local Diva for the men who had volunteered as soldiers.
It was all just a rumor, but Ritz and Edward knew the Diva who had first sung this song. And they also knew to whom she had truly dedicated it. Both the great Diva and the great man to whom the song was dedicated were no longer in this world.
At first, only she sang it, but the song eventually became popular among the volunteers in Edward's army during the civil war and spread throughout the Yuresla Kingdom.
If Constanze's mother was a Diva, it was only natural that Constanze would know this song. Just as Ritz listened to Constanze's voice with nostalgia, Edward also closed his eyes and listened with deep emotion. The thin, high voice echoed with familiarity.
Do you know my smiling face as I see you off is hiding tears?
If you go to battle without knowing, then please, listen to the voice of the wind.
I entrust my feelings to the whimsical wind,
To deliver them to you, fighting in some unknown land.
The refreshing morning wind is a prayer for your safety.
The warm afternoon wind is an eternal vow, embracing my beloved you.
The cold night wind is a sigh of loneliness, spending time alone without you.
The happiness you wish to protect is for my sake, isn't it?
Did my happiness send you to your death?
But please understand, my happiness can only be with you.
Even if misfortune befalls this world,
Even if it is filled with the unhappiness you despise,
If only you return, I can be given the greatest joy.
My happiness is you, and you alone.
I want nothing but you.
When Constanze finished singing and bowed deeply, a thunderous applause filled the venue. Edward and Ritz also clapped generously.
Just as Franz possessed a merchant's cunning, Constanze's singing voice was surely a gift from heaven. Whatever path she chose, Edward hoped it would be a source of strength for her, then gave a wry smile at his own elderly way of thinking.
The thought that he had become quite meticulous compared to his younger self was amusing.
As Constanze walked into the wings, clowns holding cleaning supplies appeared and began to clean the stage Anna had drenched, all in a comical fashion. One slipped on the water and fell, another tried to smear a water-soaked mop on a friend's face but slipped and pressed it to his own. The audience erupted with laughter each time.
Taking advantage of the gap, he stood up to return to the wings, and Ritz stood up as well, sensing his movement.
"Franz, let's go back."
Ritz called out in a low voice to Franz, who was still sitting with his head down. But as he looked at Franz's face, Ritz gasped. Then he asked slowly, his tone serious.
"What's wrong?"
Franz slowly lifted his head. Several streaks of tears ran down his pale cheeks.
"Are you okay, Franz?"
At Ritz's repeated question, Franz slowly nodded.
"…Go on ahead."
"Ahead…?"
"Right now, I can't look at Constanze."
With that, Franz dropped his gaze to his lap again and clenched his fists tightly on his trouser knees.
"I remembered. I… I did something terrible to Constanze."
Ritz, who had been watching Franz as he squeezed out the words, eventually sighed softly in resignation.
"You'll come back when you've calmed down?"
In place of a reply, Franz gave a small nod. After confirming this, Ritz turned his back to him. Ritz gave a small nod in his direction, and Edward nodded back, then hunched over to avoid being conspicuous to the audience and returned to the wings. Franz was the type of man who wanted to think alone, so Edward now understood that being overly considerate would be counterproductive.
Once in the wings, he let out an involuntary sigh, and he could tell Ritz was sighing beside him. Not knowing the cause of Franz's depression, they knew it was best not to interfere, which likely made them worry all the more. But without saying a word, Ritz took a small breath and looked around.
"Where are they?"
"Who knows."
The backstage was even more cluttered than before, and a large cage was being brought in for the main event, the wild beast tamer act. Finding the two of them in this state would be a bit difficult, he thought, when suddenly Ritz stumbled forward as if shoved.
"Whoa!"
"What's wrong?"
He turned to see Anna, still in costume with her makeup on, clinging to Ritz's back. It seemed she had jumped on him with quite a bit of force. Realizing this, Ritz relaxed his tension, looking hopelessly flustered. Considering what he must have been thinking during Anna's performance, the future looked bleak.
"Ritz, how was I?"
With a cheerful sparkle in her large eyes, Anna looked up at Ritz, her eyes shining. Perhaps because her first performance was over, she seemed to be in a state of mild excitement. On stage, Anna had exuded an unapproachable beauty, but seeing her bright expression now, she was still pretty and beautiful, but she was back to being the usual Anna.
Ritz, having finally managed to hide his fluster, placed a hand on Anna's head with his usual confident smile.
"You did great to get that good in just two days. I'm proud of you."
"Yay! I got praised."
"Hopefully this will be of some use."
"It will be! I learned how to control it better."
"Oh? So I won't be getting drenched anymore?"
"Leave it to me!"
They chatted cheerfully, but Ritz's hands were itching to hug Anna. She was so pretty and cute, and her mature appearance made it tough for him to hold back. A smile crept onto Edward's face at the sight of the still-emotional Ritz, unchanged from his old self.
"How are you controlling those spheres?"
"Um, it's easy. It's this way, don't fall! This way, this way, I tell them."
"Huh?"
"Okay, little sphere, this way, follow my hand~ Ah, that's the wrong way! Things like that."
"…"
"When I break the big sphere, I tell it, 'Hang in there, hang in there, not yet, hold on~ Now! Bam!' I'm constantly talking to the water sphere in my head. A water spirit is still a spirit, so they told me to treat it like a living thing, not an object. When you think about it, that makes sense. A water sphere is a friend, just like a Water Dragon."
Ritz let out a huge sigh at the confident Anna.
"Huh? Is something wrong?"
"I wish I hadn't asked."
"Why?!"
"It ruins that fantastical, beautiful performance."
Indeed, if one imagined Anna's words overlaid on that performance, the fantastical atmosphere would vanish. Her directions sounded more like she was herding children. But Anna's face lit up at Ritz's words.
"Was it beautiful?"
"Yeah."
"Really? I'm so happy. I practiced so hard. Right, Ed-san?"
Edward, who had been watching her practice the whole time, smiled and nodded at Anna. With a huge, happy grin, Anna looked up at Ritz. For Anna, the people she most wanted praise from were Ritz and her adoptive father. Since her father wasn't here now, she was desperate for Ritz's approval.
"Oh, then what about this costume? Does it look weird? I thought the makeup was too thick, but they said you can't see it from the audience, so it has to be this heavy."
While Anna waited expectantly for Ritz's answer, Ritz hesitated for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind, gave a small nod, took a breath, and opened his mouth.
"It doesn't look weird. You look stunning, Anna."
Ritz, who until now had only ever teased or joked with Anna, told her this with a gentle smile. He must have decided to stop holding back. But at that, Anna turned bright red.
"Oh, stop it, Ritz. You're being weird."
"Weird? It's my honest opinion."
"It is weird. I thought you were going to tease me."
"You wanted to be teased?"
"No, but…"
Anna, who had expected to be brushed off as usual and end up pouting, was unusually flustered. But Ritz gave the flustered Anna a cheerful smile and told her firmly.
"Anyway, you were beautiful, and your technique has improved a lot. As far as I'm concerned, it's a perfect score."
"…Thank you."
Anna said in a barely audible voice, then smiled shyly. Ritz's mature tone, yet deeply considerate words, must have been ticklish to her. It seemed Anna hadn't yet fully adjusted to the change in Ritz's mindset after Ciedena.
"Um…"
Constanze, who had been watching their exchange in silence, called out softly.
"My brother is…?"
Her eyes wavered with anxiety. Edward crouched down slightly to meet Constanze's gaze. She was still only nine years old. He couldn't leave her with such a worried look on her face.
"He said your song was wonderful. But he has some things to think about. Could you give him a little time?"
"…Why?"
"It seems he has a lot on his mind. Can you understand?"
Constanze, who had been looking sad, bit her lip and nodded. It seemed she, too, had things on her mind.
Franz still hadn't shown his face from the wings. He probably wouldn't come to a conclusion for at least another day. Sensing the heavy atmosphere, Anna spoke up brightly.
"I'm hungry~ Aren't you hungry, Constanze?"
"…A little."
"Right! Ritz, Ed-san, have you eaten?"
"Come to think of it, not yet."
"I'm hungry too."
"Then let's buy something at the festival and eat outside! That's okay, right, Constanze?"
"Yes."
"Okay, we're going to get changed!"
Grabbing the hand of the still-sad-looking Constanze without giving her a choice, Anna headed for the dressing room. As he watched the two of them leave, almost at a run, Ritz muttered to himself.
"What on earth did Franz do to Constanze?"
"…Who knows. We'll just have to wait."
With a small sigh, the two of them thought of Franz, who was likely still there, and glanced toward the orchestra pit.