Ferris knew that, of course. The joyous day was just two weeks hence; indeed, it would not have been an overstatement to say Ferris was more grateful for this day than for any other day on the calendar.
“I’m thankful for the stars and the sky and the earth…and for Crusch, definitely. I’m so glad she was born.”
Meckart cut into Ferris’s reverie. “Excuse me, Felix, but would you mind letting me make my point? There’s…something I’d like you to ask that girl about her birthday. Something I find…difficult to express.” From his awkward tone and his evasive attitude, Ferris had a fairly good idea what Meckart had in mind. After all, it came up almost every year.
“…You want Lady Crusch to wear a dress, don’t you?”
“Yes, Felix, exactly. It’s her birthday. And this year I have something more extravagant than usual in mind. So I really wish she would wear something appropriate…”
“If it’s at all possible, sir, I really think you should speak to her yourself. You don’t have to go through me…”
“That girl won’t so much as nod her head if you don’t, isn’t that right?” Meckart asked in a low voice. Ferris’s cat ears immediately detected a change in the air. The flaxen animal ears he had inherited from his demi-human ancestors were exceptionally sensitive to subtle shifts in the atmosphere and environment.
“I know about the promise between you and Crusch,” Meckart went on. “And I’m sure you’ve spoken to her in light of it before.”
“You know how I know you two are related? Neither of you ever gives up.”
“Perhaps she does get her obstinacy from me… But we can’t simply run parallel to each other forever. I’m desperate to find some compromise.”
“Compromise, sir?”
It was not a term to be used lightly, especially with Crusch, for whom that word might have been the least congenial thing imaginable.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s only in public, only for show,” Meckart said. “Of course, deep down, I’ve always wished she would comport herself as expected of a duke’s daughter, but my requests on that front have been rebuffed often enough that I know better by now. My hope is that my suggestion this time will allow us to meet in the middle.”
“—”
“I know her promise with you is the reason Crusch continues to play with her swords and dress like a man. Therefore, if I wish to mitigate it at all, it makes sense to go through you. Will you not speak to her?”
“—I understand what you’re trying to say, Lord Meckart. But I…”
Meckart cut him off sharply. “I don’t believe you do understand, Felix.”
Ferris caught his breath. The duke looked grimmer and lonelier than he had ever seen him.
“Crusch is my only child. She has turned out so well as to be wasted on me. I haven’t been a reliable father by any stretch. But the more pathetic I am, the more admirable she becomes… I do want her to follow her own dreams. I pray she grows up to be exactly who she truly is.” Meckart lowered his eyes, affection for his daughter overcoming him. “But I am a duke as well as a father. And she is the daughter of a duke as well as my child. So long as she lives in this house, supported by the people of this domain, she will have certain duties she must perform. And when she is performing them, people will expect dress and decorum befitting her position. Well, Felix? Am I wrong?”
“…No.”
“In fact, I am wrong. I am trying to force my daughter to do something she doesn’t want to do. Doing the right thing can be a mistake, and a mistake can be the right thing to do. Such are the difficulties of this place where I and my daughter must live.”
As the duke laid out his argument, Ferris began to feel ashamed of himself. He had been so superficial. Until this moment, he had simply assumed Meckart was just an oaf. It had never occurred to him that behind the stubborn exterior was a father deeply concerned about his relationship with his daughter. Ferris found himself choking up as he realized he had been saved from this thoughtlessness by Meckart’s compassion, his willingness to try to talk things out instead of simply imposing his will through his ample authority.
“His Highness Fourier will be in attendance at the birthday celebration. I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing what dress Crusch will wear.”
“…Yes, I suppose he would be.”
“Indeed! So not just for my sake, but for His Highness’s—will you please talk to Crusch?”
The invocation of the young prince’s name relaxed the tone of the conversation. Perhaps that, too, was Meckart’s considerate touch. Ferris put the cup of tea, cold by now, to his lips while attempting to ignore his own meanness of heart.
He recalled a promise he had made, back when he was still young enough to take youth as an excuse. Unconsciously, he touched the white ribbon Crusch had given him that day.
“You know, I’ve always thought that promise wasn’t right.”
“…Mm, perhaps not. You and my daughter are both good children.”
“But I’ve been so happy to do what I promised… It’s made me happier than anything else in my life. And maybe I take her side too much because of that.”
His hand was still at his ribbon. Meckart nodded quietly.
In his own way, the words were Ferris’s answer to Meckart’s request.
4
His little tea party with Meckart over, Ferris furrowed his brow anxiously. There was no room for argument after that conversation. And he had no intention of reneging on their promise.
“But how in the world am I supposed to bring it up now?” he wondered aloud. It would be difficult to find the right timing and a natural opening to talk about it.
Today was especially bad. The month-long prohibition on Crusch wielding a sword or riding a dragon had only just been lifted. Of all the times this could have happened, this was the least opportune time he could choose to appear and ask her to wear a dress.
“Oh, but! But! The birthday celebration is just two weeks away. It might be even worse to put off talking about it…”
The subject could hardly wait until the last moment. This was a birthday celebration for a duke’s daughter. The longer there was to prepare, the better. Even two weeks barely seemed like enough time. Meckart himself had no doubt been hesitating to talk to Ferris.
“Arrgh! Meow will I ever manage this?!”
“What’s going on, Ferris? You’ll scare the rest of the household, standing in the hallway looking so grim.”
“Mrrrrow!” Ferris just about jumped out of his skin when Crusch herself called out to him while he stood there, dancing from one foot to the other with worry. He flew back against the wall. Crusch crossed her arms and stared at him.
“I still think you look tired. If you’re feeling worn down, I could give you some time off…”
“What? No! I’m totally fine! Never better! Hooray for Lady Crusch!”
“—? Ha-ha, you’re a strange one.”
She smiled slightly as he stood there with his arms raised in a cheer. It was obvious he hadn’t really thrown her off the trail, and he hadn’t quite calmed down, either.
“By the way,” Crusch said, “you spoke with my father, didn’t you? What did he want?”
“Oh, uh, I mean, you know, meow…”
He couldn’t have asked for better timing to broach the subject. The only problem was that, mentally, he felt completely unprepared. Then again, the moment was so fortuitous that it seemed like a sign from the heavens. Now was the time to talk.
“Well, um,” he began, “Ferri does, uh, want to talk to you about something, Lady Crusch…”
“I thought so. Your wind is difficult to read, but that was the impression I got. You know you and I don’t have to hold back from each other. Talk to me about anything.”
“I love you, Lady Crusch.”
“And I you.”
He had confessed his feelings in an excess of happiness, but the serious reply quickly doused his enthusiasm. Hadn’t he been reflecting on ho
w moved he was by Meckart’s kindness just moments ago? To immediately return to letting Crusch’s kindness spoil him instead would not say much for his personal growth.
“I love you, Lady Crusch.”
“—? And I you.”
He was repeating himself, but it calmed him down and made him feel better. He was about to embark on a very difficult conversation.
“Well, uh, this is just Lord Meckart’s opinion, and Ferri wouldn’t want mew to meowstake this for agreement, but…”
“This is an awfully roundabout way to start a conversation. Fine, I understand. And what is my father’s opinion?”
“Yes, well, it will be your birthday soon, milady…”
He had laid all the groundwork and was about to come to his point when—
“—Crusch, are you there?! I am in dire distress! Crusch, show your face!”
“—?!”
Ferris stiffened with surprise at the bellow that rang through the hallway. In front of him, Crusch was looking up and cocking her head at the voice.
“I hesitate to believe it, but was that His Highness Fourier just now?”
“I—I don’t care if he is a prince,” Ferris fumed. “How could he spoil my perfect moment…?”
“Crusch! Aren’t you there? I said this is a crisis! Come quickly, or I shall wither for loneliness!”
“That’s him, all right,” Crusch said.
The initial shock had passed, and the second exclamation was more than enough to verify the voice’s owner. Ferris and Crusch exchanged a glance and then trotted to the entryway. At the door, the servants, including a steward, had formed a receiving line, and right in the midst of them was the man himself.
“Ah! Crusch and Ferris!” he said when he spotted them. “Are you both in good health? I’m doing quite well, myself.” Then he smiled with genuine mirth. He was a young man whose eyes appeared guileless despite his years. He had long golden hair and unblemished scarlet eyes, and his canines stuck out ever so slightly. He gave a very likable impression.
Sloughing off his rich fur coat, Fourier Lugunica appeared as energetic as ever.
The fourth prince of the royal family ought not to drop by so casually, but Crusch and Ferris were both used to it, and neither showed any surprise. Crusch made a modest bow to Fourier, who stood imposingly.
“Your Highness,” she said, “it is an honor to see you. But what prompts such a sudden visit? Is something wrong? I haven’t heard anything from my father…”
“What are you talking about? Was it not precisely the two of you who invited me here? For Crusch’s birthday celebrations? I even brought my invitation. Look!” With many a huff and sigh, Fourier went over to Crusch, who had greeted him so respectfully, and held out a letter. She took it, scanned it, and then nodded slowly.
“This is indeed an invitation from our house…but, my lord, you seem to have mistaken the most crucial part—the date. I’m happy you took the trouble to come all the way here, but my birthday is still two weeks away. Your Highness has been a tad too eager.”
“What?! You mean…I am the first person to congratulate you on your birthday! Perfect! Ferris always beats me to it, but for once I’ve got a leg up on him!”
“—”
“You did well to be born, Crusch! I am overjoyed! What a wondrous day!” Fourier laughed suddenly, apparently ignoring his own mistake. Crusch found herself speechless at this audacity, but a gentle smile was soon on her face.
“Thank you very much, Your Highness. Your well wishes mean a great deal to me.”
“Good, very good. But does this mean there are two weeks yet till your birthday celebration? Well, that is a problem. What shall I do until then?”
Fourier tended to act without thinking of the future, rush in without thinking of the future, speak without thinking of the future, and just in general not think about the future at all, but he had enough charm to excuse all of it. As he stood there struggling to figure out his plans, even Ferris couldn’t help a smile. The prince hadn’t changed a bit since they had first met.
“Hmm?” Fourier said. “What is it, Ferris? Why the grin?”
“I just find you amusing, Your Highness.”
“Me?! Ah, yes… I am no ordinary leader. I bring smiles to the faces of my servants without even meaning to. Do you not think so, Crusch?”
“I can only admire what a grand personage you are, Your Highness. Ferris, punishment later.”
“Awww!”
Leave it to Crusch to ensure that he didn’t go without paying the penalty for his lapse in etiquette. But at the same time, the three were so close that such irreverence could go without genuine reprisal. For Ferris, who had so few things he considered precious, this bond was something he cherished. When he thought about what was important to him, he thought of Crusch, Meckart, and Fourier. And the servants in the Karsten household. Not to mention the patients and colleagues he had encountered thanks to his work as a spell caster. It turned out there were quite a few people he valued.
Compared to when he had been shut up in his family’s house, with nothing ever given to him, he was so much happier now.
“…Ferris,” Fourier was saying, “I am aware of my dashing appearance, but please try not to stare too much. All this attention from you might just lead me astray—even knowing your true gender.”
“I was even your fiancé once, and I still couldn’t get my paws on you, Your Highness!”
“That was just…! Ahem, that’s enough. I’m a boy, too, you know! I shan’t make excuses! Aren’t I quite manly, Crusch?”
“Yes, my lord. Although if I may say so, you have yet to defeat me in a sword duel.”
“Lady Crusch! Milady, His Highness is on his knees already, so perhaps we should go easy on him…”
Fourier had slumped to the carpet. Crusch gave him a quizzical look, entirely devoid of malice. With her friends, Crusch tended to state the facts a bit too bluntly. But she delivered even the most stinging remarks with a friendly expression, making it hard to consider this a truly bad habit.
Fourier, for his part, was quick to bounce back from such disappointments.
“—Ngh, well then! In that case, Crusch, bring me a wooden sword! I have some time to kill for the first time in a while, so let today be the day when I outdo you in swordsmanship and prove to you what a man I am!”
Crusch met this bold proclamation with a “yes, my lord,” as though she knew full well what was going on.
Crusch and Fourier’s duels with wooden training swords had been going on for six years, since about the same time Ferris began wearing women’s clothing. It had become a sort of tradition.
Fourier would find any excuse to visit Crusch. His love for her was not at all difficult to see, except for Crusch herself. As for Fourier, he was outgoing in everything except matters of his own heart, so the relationship had never gone beyond that of dear friends. Fourier saw this duel as a simple way to provoke a change in their relationship.
“If you win, I shall force you to dress in women’s clothes! You’ve become evermore obstinate about your manly attire… Not that it doesn’t look good on you! But I wish to see you in a skirt!”
“You’ll have to settle for Ferris, my lord. I assure you, his legs are no less dainty than mine.”
“I am proud of these legs. Have a look, Your Highness!”
“Arrgh! Don’t confuse me, you two!” Fourier turned red and stomped his feet in frustration as Ferris lifted his skirt teasingly. With one hand he pointed at Crusch; with the other, he displayed the birthday invitation, which she had given back to him. “It’s almost your birthday! And I will not permit the birthday girl to dress like a soldier as she did last year! This year I shall see you in a dress! In one of my choosing, at that!”
“Ah…”
Fourier was so fond of these proclamations. And this one just happened to line up perfectly with what Ferris wanted. He caught his breath in surprise, and a certain tender feeling for Fourier welled up within
him.
This silly prince…
“He’s the only one besides Lady Crusch who can get at Ferri’s weak point…”
“—”
Ferris’s cheeks flushed, his breath hot with a combination of affection and envy.
Crusch, the only one standing close enough to overhear his murmured words, shot a look at him. But Ferris didn’t notice, and before Crusch could speak…
“All right! To the garden, then! Ready, everyone! This is the day I become a man!” Fourier exclaimed with what appeared to be entirely unwarranted confidence, and Ferris and Crusch had to rush after him as he headed outside.
5
It was six years ago, but he remembered it as if it were yesterday: the day the duels between Crusch and Fourier had started. The day Felix became Ferris.
“I hardly see how Your Highness can interfere with how I choose to live.”
“Hmm…but you say you’ll throw away your femininity so it won’t stand in the way of either your noble family or your swordsmanship? No! I won’t allow it! I simply can’t allow that to happen!”
“In that case, my lord, what do you intend to do?”
“The sword! Use the blade to prove your resolve to me! And I shall show you the error of your ways!”
“A sword fight? Between you and me, Your Highness?”
“Yes, exactly. In the off chance you win, you may take whatever path you choose in life. But if I win, you’ll have to reconsider. I will make a woman of you!”
Such was the promise they made with each other. Fourier had all the enthusiasm, but Crusch had the resolve. And then the duels began…
“You are truly without mercy, Crusch! I’m a prince! A member of the royal family!”
“All right, Your Highness, all right,” Ferris said. “There’s no need to mewl. Here, look! I’ll get rid of that boo-boo for you.”
It crossed his mind that he had healed Fourier just like this on that day six years ago.
Nearly weeping and covered in dust, Fourier clung to Ferris. The cat-boy used his healing magic. A wave of comfort washed over the bruises inflicted by Crusch’s wooden sword. Fourier slowly stood up.
The Dream of the Lion King Page 6
