The two strange men look at him with an amused face. They were doctors, or at least he was told that. But perhaps it wasn’t him that they were amused by. Rather, maybe, and most probably, it was the situation. Was it the first time they’ve seen the crown princess? No, definitely not. The man on the left had been introduced as the court mage, so it couldn’t be their first time. Adnt the other was the rumoured best doctor in the empire.

“Well?” Haein asked.

“I couldn’t find anything wrong with his body, your highness. But, the physical structure and abilities of a mixed blood is rather strange...” the doctor said, whilst rubbing his chin.

“Can I examine your body closer, lord Francis? Of course, with your permission too, your highness,” asked the mage.

His long, robe-like sleeves dragged on as his arm drifted towards Francis’ face. The court mage seemed like a peculiar man. There was an ethereal feeling about him, somewhat similar to his own family. He often spoke with an aged tone. And, he bore a strong, amazingly strong resemblance to Hadel Frium, his teacher.

“Why?” Francis asked.

“The mana circuits of your body are highly interesting.”

“Is that so? But unfortunately not.”

Francis pulled his robes close. The soft, cotton clothes had a peculiar pattern to them. They hung from his shoulders, and exposed his chest. In a way, it was like a bathrobe, except much thinner. It was vaguely translucent, and didn’t provide much in the way of protection.

“Very well, I expected that anyway. But, I do recommend that you be careful. You seem, and pardon me for saying this, you seem quite fragile.”

“I am aware of that.”

“And your family doesn’t let me study them. Are you sure you don’t want to let me?”

“Are all mages like that?”

“Oh, I suppose I should introduce myself too, since I’m fairly certain her highness has left out some details.”

“Go for it,” Francis said.

“I am Zeno,” he took a bow with his words, “The court mage.”

“Yes, I’ve heard.”

“Might I offer you...”

A soft blue light creeped into the tips of the mage’s fingers. In a blink of an eye, a rose popped into existence. Was he a mage? Or a magician who wielded the power of sleight of hand.

“A beautiful rose. For you.”

“Thank you?” Francis took the offered flower.

He spun it around between his fingers. The petals were of a crimson shade. As it rotated, something pricked him. Warm, thick blood flowed out of the puncture wound on his thumb.

“Well, thank you. I’ll keep it.”

The mage laughed. Behind that haughty laugh, there was age. Decades, at the least. Either he went through a lot, or he was older than he looked. Much older. Like a fine wine, in a way. Certainly, one couldn’t reach the heights of magical prowess that Francis Rayleigh sensed through sheer talent alone. And indeed, the title of ‘Court Mage’ wasn’t just for show. Just being around that man made his skin tingle. But was that all magic was capable of? Producing flowers? Surely not. Haein had demonstrated better skills than just that. There had to be more.

“Do you think I can learn magic?” asked Francis.

“I’m afraid not. Your circuitry is just too different,” Zeno said.

“What do you mean?”

“Doctor Drimst, could you tell him the effects of using magic without appropriate training or talent?”

“Oh!”

The doctor seemed somewhat disinterested before. At the sudden request, his head popped up. Adjusting his finely crafted glasses, he spoke.

“Without the proper training, misusing magic can lead and will lead to your circuits to decay. That is, to die over time. You will feel intense pain, and lose the ability to cast anything forever.”

He looked satisfied with his own explanation. He nodded, and rubbed his own chin. The doctor didn’t look like a doctor, at least to Francis. Then again, the two worlds probably had very, very different views on the medical field. He lacked the signature white lab coat.

“Hm. Welp. Guess I can’t really learn anything, huh?” Francis spoke to the other 4 people in the room.

In front of him, and behind him. There was one by his side too. The mage and doctor inspected from his front, the princess stayed by his side, and the knight protected his back.

“Well, do you really need to learn anything? You’re pretty good right now,” said Haein, “You have a knight. The court mage there will protect you if I just give the command. Do you really need anything?”

“But what if that’s not enough?”

“Ms Knight is a master of swordsmanship and aura. Zeno is near unrivalled. And I’m literally the crown princess. You need to marry me in order to become emperor.”

“If I may talk about my own abilities for a bit, I do believe that I am within the best 100 mages alive,” Zeno said.

“And besides, you have your family to protect you. Your sisters, your brother, your father. They’re all terrifying monsters to go up against, so I’m not sure who would even challenge you or attack you. If you do get kidnapped or something, I’m sure they’ll rescue you no problem,” said Haein.

Did she live a life without worry? She wasn’t exactly the one who had to escape the hands of fate. Even then, he could still hear the words of Bahamut clearly in his own mind. Echoing. It never subsided. Prevention was better than cure, after all. If he could avoid the awful grasp of his fate, why bother that much about mitigating it?

“So there’s nothing wrong with you, at least from what I see. But, do be careful, especially around strays. They can carry dangerous diseases. It was good that you sought a doctor.”

“Well, if you say so.”

Francis stood up. Much of the room had fancy white tiles, and vaguely resembled a hospital. Only somewhat though, as it lacked the distinct, sharp smell of one.

He walked out, and ended up in the middle of a hallway. Retracing his steps, he wondered why Haein even got involved. He didn’t tell her that he got bitten. Unless she saw it, or someone told her. One was more likely than the other. First, the training grounds were far away from the princess’ chambers, and Katalina provided and cemented that alibi. They had arrived together, afterall. So then someone must have told her. In all likelihood, it was Benjamin Wynt. He had probably wanted to show her that the one she favoured was weak. It wasn’t that far out to reach that conclusion. Rather plausible, actually. Then again, it could have been a servant who watched everything. Or that small young girl. Francis had no way of knowing, unless he asked her. But of course he wouldn’t.

***

Time passed without much happening. The gentlemen and ladies that greeted seemed excited about something that day. Eve, especially. Her eyes were sparkling throughout the day, and her actions had an energised feel. As if she was a robot given extra batteries. Or a dog that had been given treats.

“What’s happening today?” he asked, as he signed and replied to letters.

The letter was addressed to him. Just another nobleman looking to set up a marriage. Nothing new. They’ve been sending him message, after message ever since the Hunters Festival. In actuality, letters from nobles all over the countries were sent. All seeking his hand in marriage. All because of his status as a mixed blood.

“The royal ball, milord!”

“Hm?”

His head shot up. Instantly, he heard his own heart racing. How could he have forgotten about it? His mind scrambled for information.

“What do I need to prepare?!” Francis stood up, “Help me, everyone.”

“Ah, you don’t really need to do anything. Just appear there, and look nice. Some noblewoman would probably ask you for a dance,” said Carter.

“When is it?”

“I dunno. An hour away?”

“What?! I don’t even know how to dance yet!”

He longed for his phone, with a calendar full of reminders. Not just that, but the ability to search for information within the near infinite knowledge of the internet. But he had to make do.

“Lady Eve, help lord Percy with my wardrobe. Find something nice for me to wear. Wait, actually, no! Uhhh, lord Percy, look for some nice clothes for me. Lady Eve, help me with my makeup and looks. Lord Carter, lady Novita! Teach me the basics of dancing and music! Quick! I don’t have much time.”

Contrary to his worried state, they simply chuckled. Though, in reality, Lady Novita opted out from laughing. Francis wasn’t sure if he should be grateful for that.

“Milord, you’re stressing too much,” the viscountess said.

“You’re a mixed blood. You don’t really need to worry about anything. Just being there is good enough.”

“I can’t just settle for good enough. I need more information. Who is invited? Anyone of significance?”

“Well, the imperial family will be there. Including her highness, whom you’re so fond of. Oh, and a few scholars, I think. And I’m not sure if anyone from Friaren will be attending,” said Carter.

“Anyone else?”

“The Merchant’s Guild will probably be there. Maybe the Adventurer’s Guild as well, but you never know with them,” answered Eve.

“Is that all?”

“Should be. We don’t really have a list, you see.”

The viscountess picked up his hair and brushed it. The late evening sun smacked his face squarely, but he paid no mind to it. Soon it would be night again, but that was too soon. Despite their comments, he couldn’t quite help but feel worried. The older pair were giving him a demonstration, as well as a step-by-step guide. Where to place his feet, where to grab and be grabbed, and such. Meanwhile, Percy Thompson was searching through the wardrobe, and fishing out clothes for him. Francis almost wanted to say ‘good luck’ to his endeavour, for it would be hard for a person like him to find clothes that weren’t in the slightest way feminine.

“Got it?” Carter asked, his fingers interlaced with Lady Novita’s.

In the evening light, they nearly looked like lovers. Or a pair of teachers. Either way, they suited each other, somehow.

“More or less. Step, step, step, step, grab, spin, step, step. Along those lines.”

“That’s good enough. But I am curious though. Who’ll you dance with? Anyone who asks you?”

“I’m interested as well, milord,” Lady Novita said.

“I don’t really know. No one might ask me.”

“Oh, that’s impossible. But leave some noblewomen to me, alright? Don’t take them all,” Eve said from behind him.

Katalina watched everything unfold from across the room. She wasn’t a lady in waiting. Nor was she a noble who could easily take part in that conversation. A guard, and a knight. No less, no more. Just that.

“Uh, milord, all I could find were dresses...” Percy piped up, after staying silent the entire time.

“Then find the best looking one? Those were from her highness.”

“Her highness gave you dresses?”

“Yes. Is it that weird?” Francis asked, already knowing the answer.

Eve ran her fingers through his hair. She hummed a tune as she brushed. Her hands skillful, and touch light. Pulling his hair taut, and carefully brushing it down.

“N-no. I didn’t say anything like that. But milord, what else have you received from her highness?”

“Well, just some stuff I wouldn’t tell.”

“Do you wanna do your nails?” Eve asked from behind.

“Oo. Can you?”

“Sure thing. You need to look your best to impress her highness. But don’t go overboard, okay? I want to have a dance with the noblewomen too.”

The cool gel coated his nails. He looked at them with a somewhat amused look. Certainly, he hadn’t encountered such skill since his last visit for a manicure. A thin layer of the gloss covered and reflected with a shine.

“Is there anything left to do? I think I can remember the dance steps, and the basic makeup is done. Thank you, everyone. Now, please, take a break. I’ll get changed. We’ll continue this soon.”

He made the announcement to everyone in the room. Not just the four helpers, but to everyone who heard it. He looked out the window. It would start soon, and he had to get changed. Princess’ favour or not, he still had to maintain his own image. Small murmurs of thanks echoed throughout the room as they vacated it, leaving him alone with the setting evening sun. Hints of the stars could already be seen rising on the night sky.

Francis slipped out of his dressing gown, and observed his own appearances. The work put in by Eve would pay off. His hair looked much better than what he woke up with, and the glossy nails were a nice touch. In his head, he went through the dance steps over, and over again. Picking on the selected dress, something crossed his mind. Either Percy Thompson had amazing taste, or none. There was no inbetween. It wasn’t particularly bad in the sense that it clashed with his style. No, what was bothering was the translucent fabric. Why did Haein even put it here? The way that it was fashioned, parts of his legs could be seen through, as well as useless translucent red sleeves. Fortunately for him, his torso was protected.

Once he was done, he opened the door again. All that was left were the finishing touches. And with a gold hairpin tucked into his hair, as well as a little bit more, he was done. Just in time too.

A servant knocked on his door as he gave his thanks. The butler presented a letter on a silver platter. Locked by a wax seal, with the imperial family’s sign, it looked and felt important. Of course, everyone knew what it was.

“Well, let’s see,” he said as he removed the seal, “‘To the earl of Anahit, Francis Elias Mitra Rayleigh, you are cordially invited to the royal ball.’ Alright. I got my invitation. I’ll go first. Katalina, come with me.”

“Yes. See you there, milord. We can’t arrive with you, after all,” Carter said, with his hand right below his shoulder.

“Alright. Wish me luck, then,” said Francis, waving goodbye.

He stepped out and into the hallway. And just like that, he was alone with Katalina once again. They made their way to the ballroom, while the palace got darker as the sun set. There were barely any candles lit in the hallways, there was no need for them. Everyone was in their designated locations. Chefs in the kitchen. Knights guarding the perimeter. The servants anywhere in between. And, Francis Rayleigh, in the hallway, on the way. Katalina followed silently, and Francis didn’t mind that. He wanted some time to think, anyway. It wasn’t that hard to lie. Actually, did he lie? All he did was just not correct them. The crown princess would probably ask him to be her partner. That wasn’t hard to guess.

The guards outside the door greeted him, and he showed them his invitation. With a single cursory glance, they nodded their heads and opened the door for him. Though, he could feel their stares on him as he walked by. He was able to guess why, and more than likely, he was right. Afterall, there were a multitude of reasons for why.

“Presenting, the earl of Anahit, lord Francis Rayleigh!” a butler announced his presence.

He put on a smile, and walked in. There were what, at least 300 guests already? And more were due to come. Nearly all 300, no, way more than that if he included the servants, looked at him. Amongst them, he spotted several familiar people. Ms Anne, the head of the Rayleigh manor, probably sent as a proxy. His family was nowhere in sight. And Hadel Frium, his private tutor was there too. He also recognised some of the servants, and nodded as his walked in. He may not be able to wield a sword, nor magic, nor aura, but he could do this. With the help of Haein, he would make his intention known.