Outbreak Company: Volume 12

by Ichiro Sakaki

  “All of which is to say, we’re leaving things in your hands, Shinichi-kun. Thank you for your help!”

  “But—”

  “Don’t worry about a thing.” That reassuring answer came not from me, but from Hikaru-san. Wait... why was he so keen on this? “And don’t you worry, either, Shinichi-san. I’ve got a script all worked out.”

  “A script? I’m sorry?”

  “Just say the words, and Her Majesty will be like putty in your hands. You’ve already tripped most of the important flags. As long as you don’t completely screw this up, I guarantee you’ll succeed.”

  “Uh... huh.” Faced with this much confidence on Hikaru-san’s part, all I could give was a non-committal nod.

  They were right about one thing: to just stand by and do nothing would really suck. If Petralka got married, and if Loek and Romilda’s parents, and Matoba-san and the Japanese government all found themselves in the sort of danger they were expecting... well, Amutech probably wouldn’t be long for this world. And that would mean I wouldn’t be long for this mansion. And that would mean saying goodbye to Myusel, Elvia, Brooke, and Cerise. Heck, Myusel might find herself out on the street with no job, and Elvia’s past as a Bahairamanian spy might come back to haunt her again. Maybe she would even be killed.

  I didn’t want that to happen. I refused to let it happen.

  I wasn’t on board with the actual plan—seriously, my heart wasn’t in it—but unless and until I had a better idea, the only thing I could do was play along.

  Holy Eldant Castle.

  As you might deduce from the fact that it basically shares its name with the entire nation, this building was the center of the Empire, or at least its center of power. Carved directly out of a mountain using magic, it was almost more a part of the terrain than a building. Look up from anywhere in the capital city, and you could see the castle.

  Every time I saw the place, I could only stand in awe of the power of the Holy Eldant Emperor who had had the thing built generations before, not to mention the skill and technique of the dwarven craftsmen who had carried it out. On the other hand, it was so big that managing and administering it could be an unwieldy task.

  In contrast to the elaborate exterior, the inside of the castle was relatively quiet: it wasn’t unusual to walk through the halls for minutes on end without seeing another person. The size was chiefly about communicating authority; I assume the planning stage began with somebody saying, “Let’s make it as big as we can.” The building included a number of parts that were basically for show; they weren’t structurally necessary, but if you wandered into one of them it was easy to get lost. By the same token, though, that meant the castle was riddled with out-of-the-way corners where no one was likely to notice you.

  “Garius...”

  At this moment, a voice called out to someone walking through just such a quiet part of the castle: a silver-haired young man, Minister Garius en Cordobal.

  Garius slowly came to a halt. After a beat—of hesitation?—he turned toward the owner of the voice. The movement sent a ripple through his long hair. There was no hint of surprise or question on his face. He recognized the voice; already knew who had called him. Now there was no hesitation. No flinch of anguish. Garius’s expression was as placid and untroubled as ever.

  “Yes?”

  He didn’t ask who was there. The person who walked up to Garius where he stood, so still he could have been a statue, was a young man dressed in clothing that caught the light, much like his golden hair.

  Prince Rubert Wollyn. The ambassador of the Kingdom of Zwelberich approached Minister Garius with elegant steps that revealed the nobility of his upbringing, and stopped just in front of him. Neither of them spoke immediately.

  The two young men were about the same height. Prince Rubert, though, had just a few inches on Garius, so that from this distance the minister was compelled to look up slightly at him.

  “It’s been some time since we saw each other last,” the prince said. “Since you studied in Zwelberich, I believe.”

  “Indeed... This would be our first proper meeting since then.”

  Prince Rubert gazed at Garius, a gentle smile on his face. The smile was measured, but his eyes, each of which seemed like a great, blue sea, were infinitely kind and sweet. Was that simply his personality? Or was it because he was looking at Garius en Cordobal?

  Garius, however, remained completely unmoved. There was no hint of anything less than complete composure. How must that have looked to Rubert? A twinge of pain lanced through the Prince’s smile. “You’re awfully cold, considering how long it’s been.”

  Garius didn’t say anything, but for the first time, his face shifted. The mask slipped and revealed surprise. It was an honest, almost youthful expression of emotion. But Garius quickly regained control of himself. Almost as if he hadn’t heard Prince Rubert, he said, “I believe my attitude befits a conversation with the ambassador of an allied nation.” His tone, of course, was cool. But to anyone who knew much about this man, Garius en Cordobal, it would have been obvious that his disinterest was affected.

  Prince Rubert’s smile grew even kinder. “I see.” His hand, his beautiful hand—soft and pale in a way that bespoke a man who had never known hard labor—reached out toward Garius. For a bare instant, Garius’s body stiffened. The fingers reached for his cheek, but never touched his skin; instead, they traced their way along his flowing silver hair.

  Garius stood, silent and absolutely still. Rubert’s fingers moved slowly, as if savoring the feeling of the other man’s hair. Just when it seemed his hand would emerge from the cascade of silver, Rubert suddenly moved his hand back the other way, lifting up Garius’s locks. He brought it to his face and planted a single, gentle kiss upon it.

  A kiss on the hair, in our world, is said to communicate longing—was it the same here in the Eldant Empire, or even in this world? Whatever the case, Prince Rubert’s kiss seemed to surprise Garius. His hand swept up, pushing Rubert’s away; the motion carried Garius off balance and he took a couple of unsteady steps back.

  An unequivocal refusal. But Rubert looked almost as if the whole thing amused him. He wasn’t put off his stride. It was almost as if he were saying, I know that’s not the real you.

  “How sad, to be treated like a stranger. But that is profoundly in character for you.” Prince Rubert brought a hand to his mouth, as if to hide the smile that was starting there.

  As for Garius: “Enough... It’s too late for that.” He looked at Rubert with something close to open hostility. Yet there was a tremble in his voice he couldn’t disguise. Something that betrayed his hard exterior, something that gave away the confusion within.

  No doubt Prince Rubert saw it, too. He looked at Garius almost pleadingly and said, “Too late...?”

  “All that time ago... You didn’t even try to stop me.” Garius didn’t seem critical so much as he sounded almost like he was talking to himself, remembering something from long ago. The prince’s eyes went wide for a second. Before him was the young knight who held authority over the entire Eldant military, yet at this moment he looked like a shaking puppy, abandoned in the rain.

  Maybe that was why...

  “I’m afraid I didn’t have a choice in the matter.” Rubert met Garius’s accusing gaze with one of absolute tenderness. “In my position, I could never have stopped you. You know that, don’t you?”

  Garius didn’t respond.

  “All that time ago” must have been at the end of Garius’s time in Zwelberich, I guessed, just before he left the country. In other words, the moment when he had parted from Rubert—when they had gone their separate ways. Neither of them was first in line for his country’s succession, yet both were of royal blood. They bore the hopes and expectations of their nations. However much they might care for each other, that unbridgeable gulf stood between them. Prince Rubert knew that, and of course, so did Garius. But still...

  “And yet...” Rubert’s voice was a whisper.
“We will be together forever, from now on. That’s why I’ve come.”

  Garius looked up with an unvoiced sound of shock and blinked. But Rubert was already walking past him, as if to indicate that he had nothing more to say. As he went by Garius, who still looked vacant and confused, Rubert patted him on the shoulder—then kept walking. He got farther and farther down the corridor. The castle was pretty dark, even here at noon, but his golden locks caught the light that did filter in, and gleamed even as they faded into the distance. Everything seemed cold, as if time had stopped. Only the departing Rubert looked alive.

  Garius kept staring resolutely forward, refusing to turn around. Finally he, too, started walking. His long, silver hair wavered with every step.

  There was a long pause. There was no one there. Or at least, for an instant, it seemed so.

  But in fact there was. As soon as Garius turned the corner out of sight, one of the shadows shifted and someone emerged. A woman. A young woman, her long, black hair tied up in a bun behind her head.

  She was one of the attendants who had come to Eldant with Prince Rubert. One of his bodyguards, presumably; she had remained quiet so as not to interrupt a personal conversation. So why was she, and she alone, here? And why so secretly, melding with the shadows so that Garius would never notice her?

  The woman spent a long moment looking in the direction Garius had gone, and then finally went after her master Rubert at a quick clip.

  Ahhh. So that was it. It had to be.

  She was one of them.

  Or should I say, one of us.

  A fellow exponent of man-on-man love.

  “Hoo hoo, ooh hoo hoo hoo... heh heh heh!” As I watched the image on my smartphone, coming from one of the super-small cameras set up all around Eldant Castle, I, Koganuma Minori, began to tremble with joy.

  Chapter Three: The Great Honey Plot

  We went to Eldant Castle to report Amutech’s activities—as usual. Also as usual, in attendance were me, Minori-san, and Hikaru-san. Everything really was exactly the same as normal, but I felt like I had a lead weight inside me. Today was the day when, allegedly to save Amutech and protect Eldant’s demi-humans, I had to try to chat up Petralka.

  I let out a long sigh. How many sighs was this? I’d lost count. Hikaru-san, walking beside me, jabbed me with his elbow. “Try to look more important.”

  “Yeah... but... y’know?”

  “Another man is about to steal Her Majesty the Empress away from you. Can you really live with that?”

  I didn’t say anything. Was it just my imagination, or had I fallen into a trap with no way out? I was just sighing again when I noticed something. “Huh?”

  Our morning reports normally took place in the smaller of the two audience chambers, and I had expected it would be the same today—but the knights were guiding us toward the larger hall, the one where we had first met Prince Rubert.

  “Are we over here today?” Hikaru-san asked.

  “That’s correct. Her Majesty instructed that you be brought here when you arrived.”

  Then the knights called out, in voices loud enough to be heard on the other side of the thick wooden door, that we had arrived. Without a moment’s delay, the door opened with a heavy creaking, and we went inside.

  I entered the audience chamber still beset by a clinging anxiety. Inside, it looked a lot like it had last time: knights and advisors lined up along a red carpet, at the far end of which sat Petralka on her throne, flanked by Garius and Zahar.

  “...Oh.”

  And standing in front of Petralka was, of course, Prince Rubert with his attendants.

  “Well come, Shinichi,” Petralka said. We could physically feel the attention of the room shift to us as we walked toward her.

  Halfway there, I spotted Eric-san and Rydel-san among the counselors, and my heart got even heavier. Naturally, they were staring at me as if they might be able to telepathically communicate the message, “Please help us!”

  I came to a stop in front of Petralka—meaning, right next to Rubert. “E-Er, s-so we’re in this room today?” I started. This was normally the part of the conversation where I would lead with some pleasant chatter, but I could barely keep my voice from scraping.

  I felt Hikaru-san tug on my sleeve, and looked over at him. “...Oops.”

  Minori-san was already down on one knee, her head bowed, and Hikaru-san was halfway there. I quickly knelt myself—and then I understood. This was not going to be an ordinary audience between me and Petralka. I couldn’t just stand there and shoot the breeze with the empress in front of Prince Rubert and half the Eldant nobility. I had to act like someone who was meeting the absolute monarch. Wait—was it going to be like this the entire time Rubert was here?! Was I going to have to make my move on Petralka with the entire court watching?! We were way past Nightmare difficulty here—this was impossible!

  While I was mentally coming apart...

  “You need not stand on ceremony,” Petralka said with a smile. “We simply called you here because Rubert has expressed an interest in the nature of your activities. By all means, do as you always do.”

  I looked up with a sigh, this time of relief, and got up.

  “For some time now I have heard talk of you,” Prince Rubert said, his lips upturned. “They say your country boasts a proud and rich culture. I humbly ask you, if you would, to tell me of your land.” There was that princely smile, that breeziness and nobility that seemed to meet in some far-off plane to create that perfect Real-ness, all but overwhelming me.

  No way! This was impossible! Trying to outdo this guy in a courtship contest was like taking on a Perfect Zeo*g with a B*ll! I wasn’t sure I even belonged in the same category of human being as him!

  “Er... Uh...” I was suddenly frozen. How pathetic.

  Prince Rubert cocked his head curiously, and Petralka supplied an explanation-cum-lifeline: “Shinichi is not accustomed to these surroundings. He sometimes jokes about by doing or saying uncouth things, but you may freely ignore him.”

  Okay, so it was a lifeline where I got thrown under the bus.

  “Oh, I am much the same,” Prince Rubert said, smiling generously. “I get anxious in such stiff settings.”

  “You jest, Rubert.”

  “I am quite serious. Especially here—” he said, turning toward Petralka, “—because Your Majesty’s beauty leaves me speechless.”

  Daaaaamn. Was this a play? Was he an actor? Because I’ve never, ever met someone who could say something like that with a straight face and really mean it! O Rubert, a prince to be feared...!

  “Prince Rubert, you have such a mouth on you,” Petralka said, but she didn’t look exactly displeased.

  Ahh. I guess it really does make a girl happy to hear that sort of thing, even if she knows you don’t quite mean it.

  “Such a mouth as speaks only the truth,” the Prince replied without missing a beat. Of course. Still... I had to admit, he didn’t sound like he was flirting. He and Petralka both had this tone like they were just exchanging hellos. I guess they’d had this sort of conversation more than once. But that in itself implied that Rubert knew a side of Petralka that I didn’t.

  The idea of Rubert and Petralka getting married hadn’t clicked for me; I just hadn’t been quite able to imagine it. But when I saw them standing there bantering with each other, suddenly it started to seem real—and I saw why Eric-san and Rydel-san would feel so much urgency. All political problems aside, if and when Petralka announced publicly that she would accept Rubert’s suit, it would be very difficult to go back.

  As all this was running through my mind, though, Petralka gave a little cough and said, “Ahem, Shinichi...” She seemed to want to say something—seemed to expect something—but I didn’t know what it could be.

  “Y-Yes?”

  “Is there nothing you wish to say?”

  Anything I wanted to say?

  Right here and now?

  ...............What was she hoping for from me?r />
  “No, n-not really...” If anything, I was afraid of saying the wrong thing and making everything worse. But the moment the words were out of my mouth, I saw Petralka’s face darken. “Er, wh-what’s the matter?”

  “There is no matter,” she said, and looked away from me. Ahh, she looked so cute when she did that—no! Now was not the time to be getting all moe-moe. Completely confused, I—

  “Hrghaahh!”

  —made a bizarre sound when something jabbed me in the side. I glanced over and saw Hikaru-san: his eyes were still fixed ahead, but his elbow was pointed toward me. “The paper,” he said softly, not moving his eyes. “You have it, right?”

  For an instant, I didn’t know what he was talking about, but then I realized. I took a step forward, ahead of Minori-san and Hikaru-san. So now I was standing there, but I still couldn’t quite bring myself to... you know. I glanced back at Hikaru-san as if to say, “Are we really doing this?” and he replied with a glare that seemed to communicate, “Hurry up and do like we said, you nastyotaku!”

  “Ahh... ahem.” (Very long pause.) “Mic check...? One, two.” All too aware of Hikaru-san staring directly at my back—to say nothing of Eric-san and Rydel-san—I took a deep breath and continued. “Your Majesty, Petralka an Eldant the Third.” I deliberately tried to lower my voice a bit. Stand up straight. Look important.

  “Hm...?” Now Petralka was looking at me again, intrigued by my unusual tone and behavior. She was obviously wondering what was going on.

  Were we sure this was going to work? Despite the question in my mind, I could still feel Hikaru-san’s gaze; it was almost like a physical pressure. If I tried to run now, I wasn’t sure he would let me make it out alive.

  “You seem to be in fine spirits today, Your Majesty.”

  “...............Huh?” Petralka blinked. God, that was cute.

  “It never fails when I have the honor and pleasure of attending Your Majesty but my heart does dance in my chest. The glimmering cascade of your silver hair, the shining jewels of your— uh...”