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While staying at the Eldstedt manor in the capital, her days were busy in their own way, filled with activities like reading through the family’s books or rigorously having manners drilled into her again by Rose. Rose did it out of consideration for Latina so nothing embarrassing would happen, as she’d come to the estate as a member of Dale’s family. Dale had thought that her manners were already more than good enough for a city girl, but he was still earnestly grateful for Rose’s concern.
However, Dale thought that she didn’t need to know how to handle herself at a ball.
The duke had requested that he attend the ball he was holding at his own manor alongside Latina.
“Latina doesn’t have any outfits appropriate for a ball.”
“It’s just a personal event for close friends and family. There’s no need to be so formal.”
There’s no way that’s the case, Dale thought, but he didn’t let it show on the surface, since he’d been thoroughly trained in the ways of high society.
This was the highest-ranking noble in Laband. No matter how much of a “small-scale,” personal event it was, it would be like a whole different world that a mere commoner couldn’t possibly imagine.
“If her outfit is the issue, you have my permission to borrow one from my house.”
The maids all brightened when they heard those words from the duke, knowing nothing of the quip of I don’t need that permission that Dale held back inside.
Dale learned why the maids were so happy when he grumbled about the matter to Gregor shortly afterwards.
“It’s because my sister left many outfits behind at the manor. They may not quite meet the current trends anymore, but they could be adjusted.”
“Are you trying to make an enemy of me, too?!”
“For Latina, I think that something with a classic silhouette to it would be more fitting than the current trend of dresses that show off skin. I would imagine that those were my lord uncle’s intentions, yes?”
“You too, Rose?!”
Rose, who had referred to Vladimir in such an informal manner because they were in private, broke out in a gentle smile.
Latina wasn’t a noble to start with, so she obviously hadn’t had an official debut as a lady of the court; she’d normally never be able to appear at such a gathering of adults like a ball. Therefore, she was granted permission precisely because it was a “private, informal” event.
“Dale, you called for me?” asked Latina, poking her head in and holding a book in her arms.
“L-Latina?!” Dale questioned hysterically, causing her to blink her big eyes in surprise.
“Did you not call for me...?”
“Perfect timing, Latina. Since you are here, how about trying some on? That is alright, is it not, Sir Gregor?”
“Yeah. I don’t mind.”
“You guys... You’re conspiring against me...” Dale’s gaze remained fixed on Gregor and Rose, while the Eldstedt family maids surrounded Latina.
“Huh? What? Huh?”
“This reminds me of when Lady Rose was little.” The head maid smiled and brought Latina into the adjoining room. Latina, meanwhile, was left perplexed, not understanding what was happening to her.
“Lady Fanya doted on me often.”
“It’s because my elder sister was fond of you.”
Dale found it hard to interject as the childhood friends reminisced about old times. And yet, Rose pointed a smile his way.
“Unlike myself, it seems like any color clothes would suit Latina, yes? I cannot help but feel jealous.”
“Is that so?”
“My hair color stands out so much, there are some colors that just do not go with it.”
Dale gave a nod in understanding. It was true that Latina looked good in anything. Well, she did have a rather flat physique, so he couldn’t quite say that clothes with more mature designs exactly suited her, but she was still just so heart-warming to watch. Still, exposing too much skin would make it more likely for her to catch a cold, so that was no good. It was said that chills were a woman’s greatest enemy, so there was no reason to show her belly or wear a short skirt. A low neckline would be even worse. But, well, putting that aside, it was fine to say she looked good in anything.
“Why do you hate showing her off so much?”
“Ugh... That’s... She’s my family, so... she’d get unnecessary attention just because of that.”
He was a young adventurer with the rare abilities of a “hero” and the deep trust of Duke Eldstedt. That was how high society viewed Dale. He wasn’t a noble of Laband, but he came from Tislow, a unique village with a culture all its own. His standing differed from that of a simple commoner.
Dale had been doing his job long enough that he could easily brush off the curious gazes and malicious rumors directed at him. However, he didn’t want to expose the kindhearted Latina to noble society, which certainly wasn’t all roses.
“On top of that, she’s just too adorable a girl. You just know that if some stupid young noble was to make a pass at her, there’d be rumors flying around about whether or not there was something between them.”
“Well, that is certainly true...”
“And of course, Latina will be cuter than anyone else at the ball. There’s no need to go out of my way to confirm something so obvious.”
“You certainly never waver, do you?” Gregor said, looking at him in astonishment, but Dale didn’t pay him any mind.
He certainly did wish to see Latina wearing the sort of flashy attire fitting for a ball, which she wouldn’t wear in her everyday life. Latina was already plenty cute, but she’d obviously become even more amazingly adorable.
Everybody wouldn’t be able to help but stare. That much was a done deal. There was no need to second-guess there.
But even so... No, rather because of that, he couldn’t let Latina attend the ball. To Dale, all other men were enemies. He didn’t want to go out of his way to create an opportunity for such meddlesome vermin to approach Latina.
“I don’t need to give those pests a chance to get near Latina,” Dale said while giving off a pitch-black aura.
“Sir Dale,” Rose said, staring straight at him while tilting her head a bit. “Hmm?”
“Is this the possessive side of gentlemen that I have heard so much about?”
If this had been the Dale of just a short while ago, he would have just laughed and denied it. He would have just declared that his feelings were his as Latina’s guardian and because she was just too cute and that there was nothing further to it.
But as he was now, Dale couldn’t so clearly deny his feelings. Dale had said that he’d never thought of Latina as a member of the opposite sex, but he had still shown nothing but unease at Latina being together with other men. But were those really just his feelings as a guardian? Thinking back on it logically, he wasn’t able to firmly deny that he’d displayed his most childish of emotions to such a degree that it made his eyes spin a bit.
Not wanting anyone to steal her away was a natural desire for a father, but for someone who wasn’t her father, those feelings held a different meaning.
Now that he was aware of that, he was unable to hide how shaken he was by Rose’s words.
“Huh? H-Huh? Y-You’re... not wrong? No, that’s...” “Calm down a bit.”
Seeing Dale work his own emotions more and more into a fluster, Gregor sighed and Rose laughed pleasantly.
It was then that the door to the adjoining room opened. Dale instinctually turned his gaze toward it, and then froze.
There was Latina.
She had on a deep wine-red dress, with a simple design to the upper half. In comparison, the skirt was gathered enough that the hem swayed gorgeously just from Latina walking.
“Does it look weird...? It doesn’t quite feel right, somehow.” Latina looked embarrassed, having been suddenly forced into such an extravagant outfit. However, she still happily swayed and seemed to be enjoying the way the hem fluttered about.
“The color of your hair has a muted tone to it, so I tried pairing it with a bold color,” explained the head maid, who was standing behind Latina.
“From what I hear, you normally like to wear light tones, but you look even better in dark colors,” Rose added with a smile.
Listening to the women talking from afar, Dale’s mouth flapped open and closed. He knew there was something he needed to say, but he couldn’t think of anything.
“It made for quite a spectacle whenever my sister came home,” Gregor said, trying to help out his rather pathetic-looking friend.
“When Lady Rose was young, Lady Fanya would often have her try on her old clothes,” the head maid added.
Rose had been quite adorable when she was young, and Gregor’s sister Fanya had been rather fond of her. She personally taught etiquette to Rose, a lower-ranking noble, and had her wear extravagant outfits of a sort that would normally never be seen in the Cornelius household. Gregor had often seen the young Rose surrounded by a swarm of maids and made to change into one outfit after another.
The maids who had served in the manor for a long time remembered such happy scenes well. The exhilarated atmosphere that had resulted from Vladimir’s words were a result of that, too.
“It suits you well.” Gregor was usually a man of few words, but he offered that compliment to Latina in order to snap Dale back to his senses.
“Latina...”
“What is it?” Latina asked, tilting her head a bit as she looked at Dale, her expression showing both hints of worry and anticipation. Rather than praise from a number of other people, what she wanted was a single “You look cute” from one person in particular. She had on the sort of gorgeous dress she’d only seen in fairy tales and felt like a princess out of a picture book, so it was only natural that she’d want to hear the sort of words that would make her cheeks turn rosy.
And yet...
“...Did you pad your chest?”
Unsurprisingly, that made Latina seriously angry.
By the way, the dress Latina was currently borrowing was from when Fanya was a few years younger than Latina was now, and yet there was still room in the chest area, which depressed Latina a bit. Design-wise, it would have looked bad if it were baggy in that area, so she decided she had no choice but to stuff it some.
Even if Dale had realized it, it wasn’t the sort of thing he should have pointed out.
“You were the one at fault just now.”
“I cannot help but sympathize with Latina.” “Even I know I was in the wrong there...”
With tears in her eyes and shoulders squared in anger, Latina left the room, causing Dale to collapse slovenly on the table and wring out those words in a pathetic voice.
†
“D-Dale, you d-dummy!” “Woof?”
“Y-You dummy...” Latina, in tears, clung to Vint.
While staying at the Eldstedt manor, Vint had primarily spent his days strolling about the yard and doing his own thing. The grounds were vast, which was fitting for the estate of a grand noble and made it an ideal place for the pup to play around.
When he followed his instincts and amused himself by digging holes in the central park of Kreuz, Dale and Latina would get mad at him; but here, nobody seemed to mind no matter how many holes he dug in the yard.
Dale couldn’t be firm with Vint right now because he owed the pup for bringing Latina here safely, so he decided to settle things by earnestly apologizing to the ducal family later. That was no concern of Vint’s, though.
Thanks to his work making an especially massive hole over the last few days, Vint had become coated in dirt, and he tilted his head as Latina sobbed pathetically in front of him. She had come running to the soaring wolf after changing back into her usual outfit. She didn’t know anyone else here, so the one she could let her guard down around after Dale was Vint. When it came to complaining about Dale, the pup was her only option.
A commoner like Latina couldn’t do something so bold as running to a dirt-coated Vint while wearing such a gorgeous dress. That was why she’d changed into her everyday dress, which wasn’t formal wear or fitting for a guest at the duke’s estate.
“Y-You dummy...”
Vint licked Latina’s cheek to wipe away her tears, and she then pushed herself up against his grey fur, hugging him tight. Her skirt got covered in dirt, but she didn’t care at the moment.
Latina wasn’t skilled at badmouthing others, so, when she was disparaging someone else, her words had a lack of variation you wouldn’t expect from someone raised in a bar in the rough part of town. A childish- sounding “Dummy” was the best that she could manage, and she’d always stammer when she said it. It was charming enough that rather than making the person she said it to feel bad, it would make them grin instead.
While spouting such unusual disparaging remarks, she hugged Vint and sighed.
Latina had naturally been excited at the sight of so many dresses more beautiful than anything she’d ever seen before. When she slipped her arms through the sleeves of a gorgeous dress the color of a dark-red ruby, then saw herself reflected in a large mirror, she felt just a little confident in herself. When the maids around her praised her, saying how much it suited her, her reflection in the mirror started to look a little embarrassed.
Latina was capable of gauging how attractive someone was. She thought Rose was beautiful and understood that Gregor would be considered more attractive than Dale. However, she didn’t think of that as a crucial criterion for evaluating people.
This had an influence on her low self-image, as she didn’t have any confidence in her own looks but took care with her personal grooming anyway, and she thought she had a respectable enough appearance as a result. From the point of view of others, that evaluation may have seemed plenty ridiculous, but it was something similar to how girls her age treated a single pimple like the end of the world. Rather than thinking positively, Latina instead focused on her shortcomings, but that may have made her a perfectly normal girl.
And so, her reflection in the mirror overpowered some of that negativity. She was absolutely ecstatic that Dale had promised to stay with her forever. She was so overjoyed and felt like she had to try even harder so Dale would acknowledge her as a full-grown woman. She thought she could push herself further, but if he could say a few more of those sorts of special words, it would give her a massive push.
She was at fault for letting herself get so greedy and failing to hold back such thoughts. Dale didn’t do anything wrong. That was what Latina thought in the depths of her heart. But still, those words he’d uttered were just too much.
“Dale, you d-dummy...”
“Woof,” Vint replied to Latina’s continued pathetic-sounding wailing, looking troubled. You couldn’t win against someone who didn’t listen to reason. This world was overflowing with such absurdity.
Not wanting to return to the manor with her now-bloodshot eyes, Latina instead joined Vint on a walk around the grounds. The estate sat on a vast amount of land, so it required some time to go around it all, making this a good opportunity to get away for a bit. Vint had become intimately familiar with the garden, so he was able to show Latina around and led her to where the flowers were in full bloom. By taking in the beauty of the garden, Latina regained her composure bit by bit.
“They’re lovely, aren’t they?”
“Woof?” Vint didn’t understand the idea of admiring flowers that you couldn’t eat, or the meaning of purposefully planting greenery with strange shapes. But it made Latina happy, and that was enough for him.
“I wonder if I could take a few flowers...” She brought her face in close to a large blossom and smiled, enjoying the scent. She wouldn’t pick flowers without permission, but she’d be sure to ask if it was alright later on. “We could make a really big floral wreath with this many flowers, couldn’t we?”
“Woof.”
She’d probably be able to make a ring of flowers big enough to wear like a crown. Thinking about such things raised her spirits a bit. She decided to stop feeling depressed and regretful and gave a firm nod, clenching her hands into tight fists.
“I’ll definitely grow big and knock the words right out of Dale!” That wasn’t the sort of thing a girl her age should be shouting loudly outside.
†
When Dale firmly declined repeated requests to attend the ball using the fact/excuse that he was still resting, Duke Vladimir gave up more easily than he had expected.
Dale hadn’t expected the suggestion that was offered instead, leaving him dumbfounded.
“A-A painting... of Latina?”
He knew that portrait painters came and went from the duke’s estate. In noble society, it was only natural to have an artist or two under your patronage. It wouldn’t be strange to have an especially talented painter stay in your manor for your exclusive use. And yet, Dale couldn’t see the point of having a portrait painted of a commoner, like Latina.
The duke couldn’t possibly be plotting to market Latina to some young idiot noble, right? Latina would be able to marry into a high-ranking family, like the heroine from some fairy tale. He’d likely said it out of kindness, thinking that would make her happy, right? Even if he was the duke, he was still butting in where it was none of his business. There was seriously no need for such consideration. And most importantly, Latina was going to stay by Dale’s side from now on. As if he’d let her go off with some other man.
A dark aura surrounded Dale as his thoughts flowed; however, he skillfully maintained a polite expression and manners.
Vladimir watched Dale with amusement and smiled gently. “One of the painters that my house employs saw your beloved daughter out in the garden. He asked me if it would be possible to paint her.”
“I have no reason to decline such a request directly from you, my lord,” Dale responded, hiding how shaken he was and smoothly ignoring the fact that he had just denied a request from the duke.
In a practiced manner, the servant by Vladimir’s side gave Dale a supplemental explanation. Apparently, the painter had heard that there was a live mythical beast at the manor, which one could normally never see even if they wanted to, and had hurried there. At the Dancing Ocelot, Vint was just seen as an unusual dog who helped watch the toddler and took naps wherever he pleased, but the opinion of society at large was different.
The painter then laid eyes on the even more unusual girl, whom the mythical beast followed after and obeyed. It was a whimsical sight, like something from an epic that had been passed down through the ages. The mythical beast was covered in dirt, and the girl’s dress had become filthy as well, but the sight had stirred up the painter’s creative urges so much that he didn’t even notice.
According to what Dale heard later, being a portrait painter in the service of nobles was quite the stressful job. Just painting things as one saw them was not necessarily enough to please one’s patron. It was apparently common to twist the truth of the matter and glorify things, and it seemed the impulse for an opportunity to freely draw what one truly wanted had landed on Latina this time around.
So there wouldn’t be an unpleasant smell lingering about, Latina made sure to give Vint a thorough scrubbing. He wasn’t pleased at being washed with strong-scented soap, but Latina carefully brushed him afterward, so his mood more or less recovered.
Latina picked out a simple yet still high-class dress to wear from the ducal family’s collection of outfits. At first, she was nervous about the idea of being a model, but she had been told she just needed to act natural and that she would be fine as long as she didn’t move around too much.
Now she was just having a carefree conversation with Vint while weaving the flowers she had gotten together into a circle. The painter was used to dealing with nobles, who were frequent complainers, so he had grown accustomed to not needing to make a model sit still for a long time.
His charcoal moved quickly, adapting to the various shifts in Latina’s facial expression from moment to moment. Dale had serious doubts about someone who could finish drawing a practice piece so quickly.
What ended up on the paper was undoubtedly Latina. However, because it passed through the lens of someone else’s point of view, there were bits drawn that clearly differed from the way Dale saw her.
Dale thought that he had looked at her more than anyone else. That he knew her more than anyone else, too. But that was through his own point of view, which was neither right nor wrong.
He didn’t completely understand Latina. Acknowledging that, he realized he’d have to try harder to know her more properly as a woman. That was what the path he’d chosen required.
The painting was completed several days later. It showed a winged mythical beast protecting a beautiful girl adorned with a crown of flowers, and seemed like it had been drawn as a personification of her nickname. There was a hint of womanliness to the figure displayed on the high-class silk. The elegant smile on her face couldn’t be called childish at all.
Dale realized that he had been desperately trying to ignore the fact that Latina was becoming an adult. It had been so deeply rooted in him that he hadn’t even realized it.
While telling himself that there was no need to rush, that there was still time, a faint blush appeared on Dale’s cheeks as he looked upon this image of the girl so dear to him, as seen through someone else’s eyes.
†
“Latina... do you want to attend a ball?” “Huh?”
Dale and Latina were in a room together the night of the ball at the Eldstedt manner. Latina tilted her head in response to Dale’s question, which he had asked because he was feeling a bit guilty.
“Um... I do have an interest in them. You said you attend them often as part of your work, and that they’re boring, but... it’s the sort of thing I’ve only ever seen in picture books. I’ve wondered what it would be like.”
“I see...”
Those sorts of feelings were only natural for a girl her age. Rather than making himself look narrow-minded, Dale should have been prepared to back her up no matter what may happen. Having reconsidered the matter from that perspective, Dale looked at Latina with a gentle smile.
He was shocked a bit when their eyes met and her expression melted into an adorable, childish one. He felt relieved that he could still see that youthfulness in her and think, She’s so cute! as usual. While contemplating his own feelings, he hugged Latina in his arms.
“Well... it’s definitely not the sort of dazzling and wonderful world you’re imagining. After all, it’s a place where evil spirits try to outfox each other.”
“...I don’t like ghosts.”
“You are bad with them, aren’t you.”
Even if she knew it was just a metaphor, Latina absolutely couldn’t stand undead monsters, so she frowned in response.
“Also, you don’t know how to dance, right, Latina? If you see other people doing it in front of you, you’ll want to do it too, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then... that’ll be your homework to do before the next chance comes up.”
Latina had an exceptionally poor sense of rhythm, so that would certainly be quite the task. She knew that too, so she averted her eyes somewhat awkwardly.
The faint sound of a melody being played by the far-off orchestra drifted through the open window. When he heard it, Dale grinned at Latina, who was still in his arms. “Do you want to get started practicing right away?”
Understanding what he meant, Latina smiled back, her cheeks now rosy. “Yeah.”
Latina placed her hand atop the one Dale held out for her, then grasped the tip of her skirt and curtsied like a proper lady. Thanks to the training she’d received from Rose, there wasn’t even a hint that she’d learned it so hastily.
It might not be so far in the future that Dale took her to a proper ball, and when that time came, perhaps she’d be accompanying him as someone other than his “beloved daughter.”
Doing this mock dance while held in Dale’s arms, Latina spun around, causing the hem of her skirt to flutter about. This time, Dale didn’t speak ambiguously; he clearly told her, “Latina, you’re the cutest girl in the world to me.”
With her brilliant smile, Latina herself was like a flower in bloom.