Two days later, the debutante rehearsal was finally held at House Argent.
In truth, the name was grander than the event itself—it was really nothing more than a small gathering for children to play together.
Cassdia had deliberately stripped away everything typically associated with high society gatherings—concerts, art appreciation events, salons where poetry and literature were debated—and left only the simplest of schedules.
All the children had to do was spend two days together in one estate: playing, sleeping, eating, laughing, and simply enjoying time appropriate to their age.
It might have been more accurate to call it a little playground than a debutante.
"Yuria, the guests have arrived!"
And on this happy day, Lyriette's excitement had been running high since morning.
The time she spent with Baal was always precious, always the most enjoyable—but for children her age, the presence of friends her own age was bound to hold a special kind of significance.
Aside from Yuria, these would be the first children her age from other houses that she had ever met.
The very word carried an enormous weight of anticipation.
"I heard. Where do we go?"
"The garden. Now that the cold snap's died down, we're supposed to admire the pretty flowers and have tea together."
"Mm."
Meanwhile, unlike the excited Lyriette, Yuria remained as expressionless as ever.
It wasn't a matter of liking or disliking this occasion.
She simply felt nothing about it at all.
If it happened, it happened; if not, it didn't.
Though the gathering had been carefully arranged, that was the full extent of what Yuria felt about it.
"Come on, let's go!"
Lyriette, brimming with excitement, grabbed Yuria's hand and pulled her along.
In truth, she had asked the kitchen to prepare apple pie especially for Yuria today.
She had eaten it so happily the first time they met—surely she would be pleased again.
Bubbling with the thought of surprising her friend, Lyriette led Yuria out into the garden, thick with the scent of spring.
In the distance, she could see a slightly larger table than usual and chairs arranged in matching colors.
Right in the very center of the garden—open on all sides, yet also the spot richest with the fragrance of flowers—the perfect location eagerly awaited the little princesses who would grace it.
"Waah…!"
Lyriette let out a gasp of admiration and was about to grab Yuria's hand and dash straight over when—
"Wow, the garden's so pretty. Isn't it, Shuri?"
"Y-yeah, it is, but… aren't we just wandering around too much? The young lady should be coming soon—shouldn't we be sitting at the table…?"
"Oh, it'll be fine! Lady Argent said so herself. She told us not to worry and just enjoy ourselves freely."
"I don't think that's quite what she meant…"
From the edge of the garden came the chattering voices of several girls.
As if playing hide-and-seek, Lyriette poked her head out and spotted three girls her own age walking among the colorful blooms.
"…Huh?"
"…Oh?"
And, quite by chance, their eyes met at that exact moment.
The girl who had been trailing timidly after the other two was the first to notice Lyriette, letting out a small gasp before speaking.
"Oh, um, hello?"
"Hello…"
She greeted her with an awkward expression.
Lyriette bowed her head in response.
Thus began the girls' rather clumsy first meeting.
***
Their first meeting had been somewhat awkward, but the sheer energy of ten-year-old girls was a force to be reckoned with. No sooner had they all settled around the table than, led by one girl, the atmosphere quickly warmed up.
"So nice to meet you, Lady Argent! I'm Rubelina Astel, second daughter of the Marquis House of Astel! You can just call me Bel, if you'd like!"
The first to offer a lively greeting was Rubelina Astel.
A girl with pale pink hair and a confident, charming smile.
"I'm Claire Everne! Youngest of Count Everne's family. Thanks for setting up such a nice get-together today!"
The second to introduce herself was Claire Everne.
A girl with light green hair cut into a bob, whose under-eye fullness gave her an extra dose of cheer and cuteness.
However, no matter how young they were, they were still, nominally, noble young ladies.
And if one knew that the girl before them was the daughter of a duke, addressing her so informally right from the first meeting could easily be seen as quite a breach of etiquette.
As if to point this out, Rubelina jabbed her friend Claire in the side with her elbow.
"Claire, you can't talk to the young lady so casually right from the start. At the very least, wait until we're friends and ask her permission first."
"What's the big deal? Lady Argent already gave us permission ahead of time."
"Ugh, but you still need permission from the person herself! Honestly, I can't deal with you!"
"Hehe, it's fine, really. I'm actually happy you're being so friendly with me."
Lyriette smiled brightly, calming Rubelina down in the young lady's place.
Heaven knew, she wasn't the least bit offended.
If anything, she was glad.
Talking so comfortably with children her own age—this was the first time since Yuria.
Once the situation had settled, the last of the three girls moved her lips, her voice trembling.
"I—I'm Shuri Occhel. Second daughter of Baron Occhel's house, um… P-pleased to meet you!"
The last to introduce herself was Shuri Occhel.
A girl with light brown braided hair and a faint dusting of freckles, giving off the air of a bookish, literary type.
Unlike the other two, she seemed a little lacking in confidence.
But to Lyriette, she seemed more than kind enough to be a good friend.
"Ahaha, Shuri, you tripped over your own tongue!"
"Uu…"
"Claire! Do you really have no sense of tact at all!? No, it's fine—Shuri! That was a plenty wonderful introduction!"
"Um, yeah. Thanks, Bel."
And the remaining two, each with their own distinct personalities, seemed like girls she could easily grow close to as well.
"Sorry for the late introduction. I'm Lyriette Argent. And this is my friend, who's living with us at the estate—her name's Yuria."
"I'm Yuria. Nice to meet you."
When Yuria didn't state a surname, the three girls froze slightly.
They had realized she was a commoner.
Among noble houses, no matter how bad the rumors surrounding a family might be, there was never a single person who failed to declare their house.
"So you're Lady Yuria? Nice to meet you."
"Wow, she's so pretty! Her eyes are like rubies."
"I—I'm glad to meet you too, Lady Yuria."
But without making a show of it, without putting their noble status forward,
they simply welcomed her as one friend among others—and watching this, Lyriette smiled softly.
"Just Yuria's fine. Oh, right. Formal speech…"
Speaking as she normally would, Yuria belatedly recalled what Lady Caroline had told her, and it struck her—too late.
She'd been told that greetings at a first meeting absolutely required proper manners, spoken with formal, polite speech.
And she had already botched the very first button.
"It's fine. Please, speak comfortably."
"Yeah, we're all just little kids anyway, so you don't need to worry about all that!"
"C-Claire, but shouldn't we still be a little careful…?"
"Of course we're careful when the adults are watching!"
"Ugh, and you're proud of that?"
But seeing the three of them treat her with smiles, utterly unbothered, Yuria felt a strange sensation.
Something inside her chest kept poking, prodding.
And yet it wasn't an unpleasant sensation.
*Strange.*
It wasn't something to boast about, but Yuria had never once, in her entire life, blended into any group.
Ever since she'd been abandoned by her parents at the age of six and began drifting aimlessly from place to place,
she had never once gotten along with children her own age, not even in the neighborhoods she passed through.
The children always shut her out.
Crazy girl. Broken girl. Flower-headed freak.
They used every word imaginable to slander her, to torment her.
But even then, Yuria had never really felt any particular displeasure about it.
It was only natural, really.
After all, from the moment she was born, she had lost the ability to feel emotion—her body couldn't even register pain.
Whether those children shunned her, threw stones at her, or hurled insults—
none of it ever really changed how Yuria felt.
So why was it, then?
Baal was the same. Lyriette was the same. These girls were the same. Even the old man and woman she'd met in Arkanel were the same.
Whenever she saw someone treat her as if nothing were wrong, something in her chest would tickle, and a warm feeling would seep out little by little.
*What could it be because of?*
Yuria still didn't know what made the look in these people's eyes different from the look her parents and the other children had once given her.
The latter group's eyebrows had always shot straight up toward the sky.
Sometimes their mouths would hang open, staring at her as though she were some kind of monster.
But the former were the opposite.
Their eyebrows always drooped softly, and the corners of their mouths curved upward.
Yuria didn't know that this expression was called a smile, or that it stemmed from joy or happiness.
All she knew was that something was different.
That was the only conclusion she could ever draw.
Trying to bury the unfamiliar sensation deep in her chest, Yuria silently picked up her fork, cutting into the delicious-looking apple pie and bringing it to her mouth without pause.
She ate so quickly that the other four girls, who had been chatting, soon found themselves simply staring at her in a daze.
"Does Yuria like apple pie?"
Startled to see her already halfway through the pie all by herself, Rubelina asked—and Yuria tilted her head.
"Like it? Yuria… like apple pie?"
"You can't answer a question with another question. I'm the one who asked, you know?"
Thinking Yuria might just be avoiding the question, Rubelina puffed her cheeks out, looking a little hurt.
But Yuria's response turned out to be nothing like what she expected.
"Don't know. Liking something, Yuria… doesn't really know that."
"You don't know?"
"Mm. Don't really know that… Ah."
Even as the words left her mouth, Yuria realized she'd made a mistake.
Something like this had happened before.
Back when she'd tried, however clumsily, to fit in among the neighborhood children, they would talk about the foods and games they each liked.
But Yuria had never been able to join in.
She hadn't known what "liking" something even meant.
So she'd always been on the receiving end of remarks—that she was boring, that something was off about her.
Surely Rubelina would react the same way.
Bracing herself for the worst, Yuria was about to move her fork again when—
"Ahahat! Yuria, you're a funny one. Not knowing what liking something even means—isn't that just so pure?"
Rubelina suddenly burst out laughing, giggling uncontrollably, and Yuria's eyes widened for the very first time.
To anyone else, the change would have been far too subtle to even notice.
But in Yuria's own way, it was an expression of astonishment.
"…Not weird?"
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"When I say things like that, people always say it's weird. How can you not know what liking something is."
"Hmm, I don't really think it's weird at all. If you don't know what you like, can't you just go find out?"
"Is that how it works?"
"That's how it works."
*Go find out, huh.*
It was an incredibly simple answer, and yet somehow, Yuria found herself convinced by it.
"Wow, you really can eat. How does all that fit into such a tiny body?"
"Claire, that's rude!"
"No, I just think it's amazing. She's even smaller than Shuri, and look at her go."
"Y-yeah, really. How is that even possible? I don't think I could finish even half of that."
At some point, without anyone quite realizing it, Yuria had become the center of the gathering.
Center, though—it was more like she'd become their pet, or their mascot.
Everyone clapped and cheered as they watched Yuria shovel down an endless amount of food, or eagerly offered her bites of their own.
The warm sensation that had slowly been seeping out of Yuria's chest was beginning to spread further, and the mood was just about to turn even cozier when—
Clatter!
With a sudden, jarring crash, Shuri's teacup slipped and shattered on the ground.
"Eek! I'm sorry! I was just trying to pour a little tea…!"
Claire, the one responsible for the mishap, flinched and blurted out an apology at once.
But Rubelina's eyebrows had already shot straight up toward the sky.
"Claire! This is exactly why I told you to be careful!"
"It's fine. We can just call a servant to clean it up."
As Rubelina scolded her, Lyriette stepped in to mediate between the two and reached for the bell placed beside the table.
Since it had been arranged so that the children could enjoy themselves freely, the refreshments had been set out in advance and all the servants had been sent away—so calling one over would take a little time.
But just then—
"I'll do it."
"Yuria…!?"
Setting down her fork, Yuria suddenly crawled beneath the table, and everyone reached out in alarm.
But before anyone could stop her, Yuria began picking up the shattered fragments one by one with her bare hands.
If she had at least been careful, keeping her grip loose and reaching mostly for the parts that weren't sharp, it might have been different.
But she simply grabbed at them exactly as they were, and her palms were quickly torn open, blood streaming freely.
"Yuria, your hand! Your hand!"
"There's blood…!"
"Yuria, let go right now! It's dangerous!"
"I—I'll go get a doctor and a servant right away!"
The four girls scrambled about in a panic.
Lyriette, at least, was quick enough to leap up from her seat and dash off toward the mansion.
Meanwhile, Rubelina grabbed Yuria's wrist and forced her to let go of the shards.
But it was already far too late—Yuria's once pale palm was now stained red with blood and torn flesh.
"Does it hurt a lot, Yuria? It's okay. The young lady's already gone to get a doctor, so she'll be back soon—"
Pulling out her treasured handkerchief, Rubelina pressed it firmly against Yuria's hand to stop the bleeding, speaking as if to comfort her.
"…What's 'hurt'?"
But Yuria herself, feeling not even the faintest trace of pain from it, simply asked the question back, utterly unbothered.
"……What?"
In that instant, time seemed to freeze.
And Yuria found herself, for the first time in a long while, meeting a familiar look in the eyes of the three girls staring at her as if to ask what on earth she meant.
The parents who had abandoned her.
The neighborhood children who had tormented her.
That same look they had always given her, every time they called her a monster.
Yuria didn't know that what filled that look was fear.
Yuria didn't know that what filled that look was unease.
But there was one thing she did know.
Every single person who had ever turned that look on her had, in the end, come to dislike her—or to keep their distance from her.
The blood drained from her entire body.
Her mind went cold.
*Are even these girls going to start calling me a monster too?*
*Scared.*
*What is "scared"?*
*I don't want that.*
*What does "don't want" even mean?*
Dozens, hundreds of questions and answers passed back and forth within her.
And in that space, something boiling up from within her chest dragged her once more toward that all-too-familiar abyss.
"Ah, ah…"
For the first time, Yuria's body began to tremble.
From her mouth came nothing but strange, indescribable sounds.
Not even realizing that this stemmed from dread and terror, Yuria—unable to find anywhere to put her blood-slicked hands—crawled along the ground, trying to flee somewhere far away, when—
*Flutter.*
Something settled over her shoulders.
At the same time, a warm sensation spread over the top of her head.
Instinctively, Yuria recognized that hand—the one she never wanted to lose again, the one that had reminded her, after so long, that human warmth could feel this gentle.
"B-Baal…?"
Lifting her head, she saw him standing there—the man with ash-gray hair, Baal Argent.
He offered no comfort, no words at all.
As if he already understood everything, he simply gathered her into his arms and rose quietly to his feet.
The deep wounds on her hand had vanished, as though they'd never been there at all.
But Yuria's unease had never come from something as small as a wound.
"Baal. Yuria… abandon…?"
Perhaps it was because some part of her thought this might be the last moment she would ever get to feel his embrace like this.
The girl who knew neither pain nor fear instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, asking the question in a pitiful voice.
*Squeeze.*
At that, the arms holding her tightened, filled with strength.
There was no particular answer given—but somehow, Yuria felt as though she had already heard one.
*I see.*
*This person won't abandon me.*
*No matter what happens.*
The moment she realized that, the arms wrapped around his neck loosened, just slightly, without her even meaning to.
It was the very first time in Yuria's life that she had ever felt something called relief.