Chapter 71

“You seem pretty relaxed.”

“I-I’m just nervous...”

It was escapism. Maybe even a kind of survival instinct. The stimulation was so overwhelming that she wanted to shut it out.

“Focus on me.”

“Hic...”

She tried her best to concentrate, but he still wasn’t satisfied. With a sigh, he slumped over her back and complained again.

“...Ugh, this is hard.”

Did I say that out loud?

Pinned beneath his lean yet surprisingly large body, Lieutenant Erabelle Vermilion stared blankly ahead.

She looked up at him in stunned disbelief, her eyes unfocused. He peppered Erabelle’s cheek with light kisses, then tapped his own cheek with two fingers.

“...”

Even through her bewilderment, his face was beautiful enough to numb the senses. Damp, tousled hair. Smoky pupils. The corners of his eyes flushed red...

On the bed, Commander Dezeb Avganis looked wickedly indecent.

“It’d be nice if you adored me as much as you stare at me.”

There was a faint note of sulkiness in his voice as he tapped his cheek again.

Erabelle jolted upright and pressed her lips to it.

Her heart hammered.

I’m seriously going to die.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and a tear slid down the bridge of her nose before falling.

“Why are you crying when I’m the one working so hard to hold back?”

He nipped at Erabelle’s lips as he spoke.

“Erabelle.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Don’t make any plans for the weekend.”

“...”

He leaned close to her ear and murmured that they would do it all day. He would even bring her meals in bed.

“...I’ll try taking antacids.”

“I told you, if you don’t fix that habit, you’re going to regret it.”

“Then please let it slide just this once...”

“When exactly is your stamina going to improve?”

“What’s the point of going to the Center, then?” he grumbled, pulling out a cigarette and continuing his complaints without pause.

“When are you finally going to score an 80?”

“I think the machine is broken.”

“No chance.”

“...”

He snorted and pulled her against him.

His hand moved slowly down her back, stroking her in a steady rhythm, and Erabelle’s eyelids began to droop.

The gentle patting gradually loosened the tension in her body.

“Want to skip the Center tomorrow?”

He whispered coaxingly into her ear as she drifted toward sleep.

“Just one day is fine, right? Hmm?”

She was so drowsy that his words seemed to come from far away.

He muttered something under his breath, then guided her head toward him.

Following his touch without resistance, she rested her head against the crook of his neck and blinked slowly as sleep overtook her.

Half asleep, she may even have burrowed a little deeper into his arms.

“...You don’t even know what you’re doing.”

I don’t know what I’m doing, but...

Either way, Erabelle was somehow muddling through.

She had gotten used to stamping out the same cookie-cutter score of 79.

She had gotten used to occasionally drifting through old memories, and to waking from them only to find herself in his arms every time.

She had even grown used to headlines of every possible variety without tearing at her hair anymore.

Someone else was doing enough hair-tearing for both of them.

***

The Count stared at the endless stream of article headlines while stubbornly punching in one phone number after another.

Still, no one answered.

Considering that not a single number would connect, it had to be a communications problem.

Unless some lunatic had blocked every signal in the entire planetary system, it was definitely a communications problem.

That did nothing to stop him from fuming.

“What on earth is she doing?!”

The Count barked, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Anyone could see he was desperately trying not to smile.

After all, news that his adopted daughter—who had never shown the slightest desire to involve herself with this world—was finally having a romance was bound to be welcome.

He shoved aside a stack of profiles belonging to young noble scions and stared at the news feed as fresh articles continued to appear.

His expression kept wavering between delight and concern.

“...But of all possible partners.”

House Avganis stood at the very center of power.

Families like that did not take children into their household lightly...

[I should have stopped her from going to a conflict zone in the first place...]

Of course.

[I’ll make sure the Lieutenant is properly protected from now on.]

There had been signs.

He had thought something felt strange.

What does he mean, he’ll protect her?

The Count’s lips almost curled upward before his expression suddenly twisted.

If he was going to claim he would protect her, then why had he let her go somewhere so dangerous in the first place?

Although the Count knew perfectly well how stubborn his adopted daughter could be, he conveniently ignored that detail.

Still...

He did seem like a decent young man.

His reputation was good, too.

As the wavering Count continued to deliberate, Sanche raised a hand.

“I’ll go to the capital, Father.”

The Count gave his only son a suspicious look.

Compared to his academy days, Sanche had matured considerably.

Even so, a trace of doubt was unavoidable.

“Everything’s chaos right now. Someone has to go and check in person. And you know what Sis is like... even if you get her on the line, it won’t help. She’ll just say she’s busy and hang up. So I’ll go see for myself.”

The Count glared at his °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° son’s unnecessary chatter, then fell silent in thought.

He isn’t wrong, but...

“It will take quite some time to reach the capital.”

“With a long-range jump, it’ll be quick.”

Sanche answered lightly.

“If you lend me the family head’s ship, I can get there within a month at most. And if this is real, it’s a huge deal. You won’t have to keep stressing yourself out trying to drag her into arranged meetings either.”

No amount of worrying would make that work.

Digging through profiles of young noble scions was pointless.

“Sis is never going to obediently show up for a match.”

Sanche calmly stated what the Count already knew.

“If you force her, you’ll be the one drowning in marriage proposals, Father. Sis already told you: if you want a wedding so badly, go get married yourself. Hacking a matchmaking agency would be nothing for her. You’d spend the next three years being hounded.”

That was the finishing blow.

And because Sanche spoke from personal experience, the Count reached his decision even faster.

“I’ll deal with the Senate.”

And just like that, Sanche Vermilion’s trip to the capital was decided.

Preparations for departure moved even faster.

By the time the meddlesome Senate caught wind of it, they would already be well beyond the planetary system governed by their family.

“Will the young lady be alright?”

The guards and aides who had served Sanche since childhood were all extremely fond of Erabelle.

When she first entered the Vermilion household, Sanche Vermilion had been exactly fifteen years old—and in the grip of a particularly severe edgelord phase.

The fact that he had recovered from that affliction without any major incident was entirely thanks to Erabelle.

The guards and aides, who had suffered more than anyone from his “illness,” had every reason to adore her.

“Wow. You seriously believe that scandal?”

Sanche stared at them in disbelief.

“Pardon? You don’t, young master?”

“Of course not. Who would? It’s Dezeb Avganis. Do you have any idea how many planetary systems that family owns? They’re one of the Empire’s nine princely houses.”

Sanche snorted.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into Father, taking it at face value. Seriously, what would Sis even see in a guy like that, and how would she ever manage to snag him? There’s a ninety-nine percent chance she just got swept into something because she’s too soft-hearted. Look at how Father pushes her around. It’s obvious even without seeing it.”

“The young lady does not exactly have a soft disposition.”

“You don’t get it. Sis is soft to the point of stupidity. Especially with people who like her.”

“...Ah. I see.”

The aide pictured the small woman who, surrounded by overbearing ruling nobles, had nevertheless managed to live exactly as she pleased—from signing away her inheritance rights to enrolling in the Outer Space Academy.

After a moment, he asked somewhat awkwardly,

“Then why are you going to the capital?”

“Huh? If not now, when?”

Sanche answered as though it were obvious.

“They wouldn’t even let me go for the New Year Festival. I’ll use Sis as an excuse and finally get some capital air. I mean, what’s supposed to be so amazing about the air there that he dragged himself all the way up there in that condition?”

I’m curious.

That was Sanche’s greatest motivation.

***

“Raise your left arm. Good. Now make a fist, then open it.”

Main ship medical ward.

Today, instead of going to the Center, Erabelle had come to the military hospital.

It was time for her checkup.

“How many fingers do you see?”

The doctor spread one hand before her.

“Six.”

“Good.”

No, I’m telling you I see six fingers...

“Don’t joke with a doctor about your condition. If you really saw six, you wouldn’t be scoring 79.”

“I’ll get an 80 soon.”

“A positive attitude is excellent.”

Doing his best to encourage her, the doctor answered her questions about why she kept dreaming about the past.

He explained that vivid old dreams could occur after the severe shock of an accident, and that it was nothing serious enough to worry about.

“You’ll be fine soon.”

“Then could I have my signum reissued?”