My Childhood Friend Is An Archmage Chapter 87

Feb 20

Written By Pure Love

Translated by d6y (ko-fi)

It’s Annoying Because My Childhood Friend Is An Archmage

Chapter 87

* * *

Lancer does not visit me again.

“Is that bastard of the Soli Duchy not coming again today?” Phoebe mutters to herself as she enters my room to change the sheets.

"...."

Even Phoebe, who usually finds Lancer a nuisance, is wondering when he will come.

Today's the second day since Lancer has stormed out of the parlour.

The past two days have been a very long time for me.

It's strange not to see Lancer, who visits me every day.

Lancer….

That evening after Lancer's departure, heavy rain began to pound the ground like a whip, and I felt that winter was one step closer.

I wrap myself in a thick blanket and sit still by the fire.

Am I doing something wrong?

I only want Lancer to live a long, happy life.

It's so condescending of him to say that he would die for nothing more than me. How can he possibly know how I feel when he says that?

And most of all, I feel that Lancer is being mean. Everything I have done up to this point has been in the hope that he will not meet an unfortunate end like Princess Bliss.

And yet, Lancer speaks of death so casually.

I hate that.

I don't want to think about Lancer's death.

I just want him to….

I only want him to live a very, very long life, to do everything he wants to do, to eat everything he wants to eat, to see everything he wants to see….

It's a small, insignificant, wish.

But it's my fault that I shouted at Lancer. I shouldn't have raised my voice, no matter what.

I should go and apologise.

I grumble to myself as I wrap myself up in my blanket.

But something doesn't want to.

Or, more precisely,

My pride won't let me!

Lancer would think I was shouting for no reason, but I had my reasons. There was no way I was going to bend over and give in in this situation.

He needs to reflect on what he has done wrong.

Besides, there's no guarantee that this point will go well.

What if Lancer's emotions got the better of him and he went on another rampage?

Without Viscount Artisina, who's skilled in healing magic, we'd be in a real bind.

Well, let's just wait and see.

They say time is a medicine.

Over the next few days, Lancer will gradually calm down. I will meet with him again and talk to him when we're both calmer.

I made up my mind and went to bed.

And so the next day.

Lancer does not visit me.

"Did Lancer not come today?" My parents ask me at the dinner table. They have no idea what happened between me and Lancer.

"No."

"Really? Why?"

"I don't know." I blurt out, slicing my steak in silence.

My parents, unable to understand, glance at each other and scratch their heads.

'Is Lancer ill? I thought he could jump into lava and be fine….'

‘I'll have to ask Duchess Soli when I see her later.’

The next day, Lancer still hasn't come.

"Where is Lancer?"

"I don't know."

I shovel a mouthful of mashed potatoes with cheddar cheese and bacon into my mouth and get up from the table. If I stay for dinner any longer, I know I will be bombarded with questions from my parents.

It's strange indeed. I spent the rest of the day thinking about Lancer, fretting and fidgeting, but time seemed to take care of itself as it always does.

I hate the fact that my worries and anxieties do not affect the world.

* * *

The long-awaited Wednesday arrived.

"Isn't this too glamorous?" I mutter in the mirror.

But Phoebe is adamant. "No, it's perfect just the way it is."

'My lady, you're so beautiful! I can see why you didn't sleep well last night, all the compliments and gossip were 'sleeping' on you!'

I see that the hospitality of the Phoebe does not end today.

My dress today is a little richer and more embellished than usual, which I have to take care of because I am going to the theatre with no one else but His Highness the Crown Prince.

If I was going to the theatre with the Lancer, I wouldn't have bothered with this….

I sigh as I fiddle with the ribbon at my waist.

"What would you like for a necklace?"

"Hmm."

I stare at my necklaces in the jewellery box.

I don't attend many parties, so I don't have a lot of jewellery. The only necklace I have now that's anything close to glamorous is a hand-me-down from my mother.

I pick up a pink diamond necklace.

"How about this?" I show the necklace to my fashionable maid to get her opinion.

"It's a beautiful necklace," she says, "but I think a simpler necklace would be more appropriate as your outfit is quite extravagant today."

"I think you're right. Why don't you come and pick one out for me?"

The maid examines my jewellery box for a moment before pointing to a necklace.

"How about this one?"

"Oh, that's…."

She has chosen a dark green gemstone necklace that Lancer had once given me.

"The colour of my lady's dress today is white, so I think a dark-coloured malachite necklace like this would be perfect!”

"Malachite…?" I stare at her at the unfamiliar word.

She nods and points to the gemstone pendant. "Yes, that gemstone is called malachite. My hometown is famous for its minerals, so I know it well."

Oh. I see.

"I didn't even know what kind of gemstone it was because it was a gift from someone else, but you've taught me something new. Thank you."

The maid blushes and smiles brightly at my compliment. "You're welcome, and since my lady is going on a special date with the Crown Prince today, I don't think it'll be bad to dress yourself to look the part!"

Date….

Date, date, date.

I'm sure everyone in the manor thinks I'm dating His Highness.

Even my parents have been visiting me in my room since morning, cheering me on.

"Yes, let's do as you say."

It would be strange if I refused to wear a necklace for no reason, so I took it and had the maid close the jewellery box.

I put the necklace Lancer has given me around my neck.

I climb into the carriage with Phoebe and head for the theatre.

It's been raining for the past few days and the days were cloudy, but thankfully it's sunny today.

The theatre is bustling with people who have come to see the same play.

There aren't only nobles in the audience, but also quite a few middle and upper-class commoners.

Ohhh, a velvet dress.

As I enter the theatre hall, I see several nobles wearing velvet.

Of course, the entire garment isn't made of velvet, but only the neckline of the dress or the sleeves of the suit is made of velvet. It's quite expensive, so they can't use much fabric.

People's attention is on those who wear velvet.

"Oh my, Mrs Larek, isn't this velvet? Where did you get this precious fabric…!"

"Hoho, a young lady I know recently acquired some. She gave it to me as a gift, asking me to try it on first. You should touch it, and feel how soft it is!"

"Really? If you don't mind, may I feel it in my hand?"

"I'm curious, too. May I touch it?"

Women are having this conversation amongst themselves.

It's the same with the men.

"Count Pratise, where did you get such a luxurious fabric?"

"Haha, I have my ways."

"Oh no, all ladies’ eyes will be on you!"

"Sir Fed, you should see for yourself, how handsome Count Pratise is!"

As I listen to people, a question arises in my mind.

Who has already started importing velvet into the Empire?

Judging from the ladies' conversation earlier, it seems that some noble young lady had started a velvet business.

Whoever it is, they've seized the opportunity well.

I turn to Phoebe. "I've arranged to meet His Highness in the grandstand. Would you like to get something to drink before we go?"

The play we are going to see today is a long one, lasting three and a half hours.

There's an intermission, but once you sit down, you can't move for at least an hour and a half.

But instead of pointing to the drink stand, Phoebe points elsewhere.

"Why don't we get one of those?"

I turn my head to where she's gesturing.

A pile of white balls that look like they're made of cotton.

"What are those?"

"They're fake eggs."

What?

I'm puzzled. Why would a theatre sell fake eggs?

Sensing my bewilderment, Phoebe adds a more detailed explanation. "As you know, the play we're watching today, My Husband and His Childhood Friend's Wedding as a Funeral, is a revenge play. There's a scene in the middle where the villains are being judged, and that's when the audience can throw those fake eggs."

"They throw those at the actors?"

"Yes. As you know from reading the original novel, my lady, there's a scene in the film that causes outrage when you watch it, do you remember?"

I nod in response. My temper had flared since the scene in which the male protagonist had an affair with his childhood friend.

"Rumour has it that an elderly gentleman was so angry at the play that he collapsed. More people get emotionally involved in theatre than one might think."

"Ah."

"So they had the audience throw fake eggs at actors to help them work off their anger and frustration."

"...."

I'm left speechless.

Wow… angry audience members throwing eggs at actors to let off steam….

This is the most unimaginative idea I've ever heard of….

"Do you want to buy it?" Phoebe asks monotonously. But in her mind, she's already stomping her feet.

‘Please say yes, my lady. I want to throw eggs at those bastards filming that cheating show!’

"Okay, let's go."

I let out a small sigh and walk over to the egg stand.

There's already a queue of people there with their wallets out.

Seems like everyone is serious about egg-throwing.