The Sorcerer’s Receptionist: “I Want to Be a Receptionist in the World of Magic.”

I feel as though I’ve been sleeping for a very long time.

I sit up, as if to proclaim to myself and the world that I can sleep no longer. When I open my eyes, however, I look around to see not my dorm room, nor my old room at my parent’s house, but a space that could only exist in dreams. I blink several more times to ascertain if I’m actually awake.

I’m lying in a soft, fluffy bed that a commoner like me would never be able to sleep in. Flower print paper covers the walls, in which are set a large window and a door leading out to a balcony. Fine curtains hanging halfway over them both sway softly in a gentle breeze. There’s a dressing table embossed with gold, atop it a mirror. A large, two-person sofa accompanied by a small table to one side is also here. On the table rests a vase, holding a single couplet flower.

My eyes drift back to the bed. I’m wearing white silky pajamas. I notice that there’s this weight resting on me, somewhere around my knees. I’m so drowsy that I hadn’t even noticed at first; but lying there—with the most adorable expression on her face—is my friend, fast asleep.

＊　＊　＊　＊

“A whole month?!”

“Yes, you were asleep for a whole month, dear; we were all—I was so worried—!”

I’m still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes when Maris, who’s just woken up and lifted her head off of my knees, embraces me with tears in her eyes. She holds me so tight it gets a little difficult to breathe. I feel her tears drip down onto my chest as she holds me close.

“Your hair even turned brown! No one could feel any magic left within you, and so we all thought your life was in terrible danger! You gave us all quite the fright!”

“My hair turned brown?”

“Well, yes, but three days ago it went back to blue.”

According to Maris, a full month has passed since the day I collapsed in the stadium. I’ve been sleeping all the while, not opening my eyes even once. The Royal Doctor herself had used her healing magic on me, but to no avail. They’d tried so many other ways to wake me up, but all their efforts had been for naught. Time passed on by while I just slept. Or so Maris explains, in between sniffles.

The room I’m in now is not inside a private home, nor is it a room in Maris’s mansion; I’ve apparently been sleeping in a guest room inside the castle itself.

“A little while after you used your magic, what appeared to be glowing splinters of crystal poured down from the sky. Then, when the splinters would brush against those who were frozen over, the crystalline ice covering them quickly began to melt away.”

So under the power of some other spell...the moment those shards fell to the ground, everyone covered in ice came back to life. Is it because he had absorbed the blood of everyone into his body? Following the downpour of light, the demons vanished as well, or so Maris tells me.

“After order was restored, the King rewarded all those who had been courageous enough to fight against the demons. He gave each fighter one million pegalos, as well as granting them each one wish, proportionate to their achievements. Of course, he could only grant wishes that were possible, obviously.”

“What did everyone wish for?”

“Satanás and Benjamine were granted a house to live in together.”

“What about Nikeh?”

“She comes from a family of merchants, does she not? Rather than something for herself, she wanted to increase the status of her family, and so they were granted a title.”

“A title?”

“A barony, in fact. A particular domain had been recently vacated by its lord. Her parents were very enthusiastic about becoming landowners.”

“That makes Nikeh a baroness, doesn’t it?”

“It does indeed, ohoho! I’ll need to teach her the ins-and-outs of high society, and I shall teach them to her well and properly!” Breathless with anticipation, she looks as though she’s just found a new toy.

Zozo, Mr. Alkes, and the other five Knights had all received their one million pegalos. The Knights had all been promoted a rank, and the two from Harré each had their wishes granted. Prince Zenon had wished for nothing in particular, and had taken no money in reward either. Instead, he had suggested replacing some of the Royal Ministers. He helped me so much in the fight against Städal, but gets nothing in return? I simply can’t stand the idea that he, who did so much for everyone, is rewarded with nothing...

“Sir Alois, of course, did exactly what I’d expect of him—”

“He’s alive? Maris, is he alive?! Tell me!”

“Y-Yes! He’s alive and well! My darling Sir Alois can’t simply go off and die! Oh, goodness, that reminds me—this is no time for us to be having a leisurely chat. I must summon the Royal Doctor to see you immediately!”

Maris hurries outside the room. I can’t help but laugh at the sight of her getting all flustered as she hustles and bustles.

A gentle breeze brushes against my skin. My eyes are drawn to the window; beyond it lies a beautiful garden, and even further out in the distance I see the entirety of the Kingdom spreading out to the horizon. Just as Maris said, it really does look like I’m inside the castle. From what I can see through the window, there’s not even a single ice shard anywhere in the Kingdom. The knowledge puts my mind at ease.

I look down at my palms. I’d thrown all my magic at him with that spell, and it resulted in some predictable side effects. I wonder, though, can I still...? I whisper the incantation. Instantly, shards of ice materialize in the air just above my palms. I let out a sigh of relief. Glad to see that hasn’t changed.

So I’ve been sleeping for a whole month. I’d been entirely drained of all my magic. Perhaps the reason I was asleep that long was because my body needed to regenerate it back. My hair turned back to blue before I woke up, after all, so that’s likely proof enough that I was regenerating magic in my sleep. I pause, realizing something. Isn’t it odd to say that my hair “turned back to blue?” My hair’s original color is brown. But I suppose now blue hair is my new normal. I like this “normal.” I like how I am now.

＊　＊　＊　＊

An impromptu party is to be held in honor of my awakening. I told them that I didn’t want them to do something so grand and ridiculous as all that for me, but I’m told that while order has been restored throughout the Kingdom, not a single party nor banquet has been held to celebrate the victory over the demons—and that’s all been because I, one of the “heroes,” had still been asleep. Well, I can hardly turn down a party now, given that explanation. Everyone waited for me to wake up before having fun? I retract the tasteless refusal I’d made and immediately agree to attend the festivities.

Invitations are sent out to everyone in the Kingdom, regardless of noble status. The Royal Isle is full of commoners as the whole island transforms into one giant ballroom. The school is sent floating up into the sky, and the private residences of the Ministers are rearranged to ring the edge of the Isle. Preparing for the positively massive party turns out to be quite the ordeal, beyond anything I’ve ever seen before—and yet, in just a day and a half, everything is set up and ready to go. It’s almost scary just how quickly they managed to figure it all out.

Today’s the day of the party. The Doctor took a look at me yesterday, and she said that while “everything appears to be in order,” I should take it easy for a little while, since I’ve been asleep for a month. This means I’m being forced to remain sitting down most of the time, including right now. Speaking of which, Maris and I are currently waiting backstage for the party’s opening ceremonies to begin. A stage has been constructed next to the castle, from which the King is going to address the audience before the festivities formally get underway. Since I’ve been sleeping for so long, I’d very much like to get up and stretch my legs, but I refrain from doing so, mostly because I don’t want Maris to worry about me. Quietly, patiently, I sit, leaning against the castle walls as I look around. Likely because the King’s throne is on the stage, not many people are walking nearby. The throne’s not the only thing deterring curious passersby. With those Knights standing guard all over the place, no one’s going to so much as even look at me sitting here.

“Are you quite sure you’re alright without a dress, dear? It certainly is like you to dress like that, but still, perhaps the occasion calls for something else...?”

I decline Maris’s offer to loan me one of her dresses. While everyone else looks to be dressed up in formal wear, I alone am dressed otherwise; I’m wearing my Harré uniform.

I’d thought it lost forever during our fight with Städal, but Benjamine and Satanás had found it for me amid the ruins of the stadium. Maris told me they’d brought it up to my room, leaving it and a letter lying next to my pillow.

Except for Maris, I still haven’t been able to meet with any of those good friends of mine. I haven’t even seen my parents. Of course, it’d be absurd of me to expect that everyone would immediately gather together from all across the Kingdom just to come see me, but even so. There are so many people here on the Isle today, but how come no one’s come to see me? Something else must be going on here. The conspicuous absence of my friends and family isn’t the only thing on my mind, however.

“Ms. Hel! Please, do grace us all with a wave!”

“Lady Hel! Thank you for all you did!”

“Hey, Mom, is the Princess up there?”

“ARE YOU REALLY THE PRINCESS OF THE SEA??!!”

“Lady! Nanalie!”

“Everyone, please, stay back!”

“Um! Excuse me! Lady Hel! I—you saved me back at the stadium!”

Someone calls out to me from beyond the Knights protecting me. They call me “Lady Hel.” Ooh, that feels weird. I look to see who had spoken to me. There. One of the people I’d seen getting attacked by demons during Städal’s assault is waving to me as she thanks me. “You’re alive!” I say, smiling. I try going over to see her, but a crowd of others pushes forward once they notice me.

“Thank you!”

“We’re so glad you’re awake!”

“Lady Hel, look over here!”

The Knights get into formation and prevent them from coming up onto the stage. In the end, I am unable to have a conversation with that first woman who thanked me, and am made to sit down in a seat at the edge of the stage.

What’s the meaning of all this? Why are they treating me this way? It’s certainly nowhere near what I would call “normal.” They’re acting as though I’m a noble.

“The ceremony will begin shortly, Lady Hel. Please remain seated until then.”

I know that voice. I know that face. It’s someone I met when I’d gone out drinking with Nikeh and the others. I get up and look closer to be certain.

“Mr. Drografia?”

“Please do not refer to me in such a matter, my Lady. Whatever is the matter with you?”

“That’s—that’s what I want—”

A great swell of music begins to play; the festivities are beginning at last. I suppose I need to go back to my seat. I look left, towards the throne.

One by one, the members of the royal family ascend the stage steps, and slowly seat themselves in the chairs provided for them. The fourth member to come up on stage is Prince Zenon. Our eyes meet, and he gives me a slight smile and nod. I stand to return the greeting. Ah! Good, his legs are moving like they should again. There’s not even a hint of injury to his gallant gait.

From every direction, I hear the joyous cries and cheers of all the people of Doran who have gathered together on the Isle to celebrate today.

Despite the festive atmosphere, I’m still locked in on all sides by a phalanx of ten white Knights, all guarding me as if I am a member of the royal family or part of the aristocracy. This certainly isn’t the most enjoyable way to attend a party. People must be talking about how I’m connected to the Land of the Sea, or something like that—not that I myself understand what, exactly, my role is down in the Sea Kingdom. Surely no one should be going around calling me a “Princess,” right?

“How lovely it is to call you a Princess. Charming, even! Don’t you think so, my dear?”

“Oh, come on now, cut it out.”

With Maris at my side, I do feel a good bit more at ease than I would otherwise—but at the same time, I know there’s something I have to tell her. Something that certainly won’t be easy.

Maybe I don’t need to tell her. But if I’m going to cause her trouble anyway, I should probably let her know ahead of time. She’s Maris, after all. She’s my friend.

“Hey, Maris?”

“Goodness dear, whatever’s the matter? You look so serious.”

Even now, she’s worrying about me and how I’m feeling. I clench my hands into tight fists and press them against my knees in preparation for what’s to come.

“I...I’ve fallen in love with someone.”

“...It wouldn’t happen to be Sir Alois now, would it?”

My eyes go wide at her reply. Looking amused, Maris lets out a laugh. “Ohoho! You know I’m no fool. Why, ever since you first met him at school, he’s always been on your mind, has he not?”

“Always been on my mind?!”

Why is she talking to me like this? Like she’s predicted and rehearsed this whole conversation? I never felt this way about him at all back when we were students. Never! I’ve only felt this way about him quite recently, in fact, so why—how—

“No matter what the time or occasion, it was always ‘Rockmann’ this and ‘Rockmann’ that with you, dear; every other word out of your mouth was his name. I was quite beside myself with it all.”

“S-Sorry about that.”

“Oh, no need to apologize. If you do indeed love him, do you also intend to tell him how you feel?”

“Well, about that...”

“Or will you run away? Dear, will you run away from your own feelings?”

“‘Run away’? I’m not sure I’d—”

“Will you lie, then? Tell him you don’t love him?”

Now that I know how I really feel about him, can I hide those feelings away, not just now, but for my whole life? That doesn’t sound like me at all. I’d started this conversation with Maris with the unconscious assumption that I’d be confessing my feelings to him anyway, but to be asked about whether I actually intend to do so, and so directly—my whole body’s practically shaking with nervous, hesitant anticipation, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

Can I tell him—tell Rockmann—tell him...that? He’ll make fun of me, no doubt. I’ll tell him how I feel, and he’ll just laugh, saying, “I wondered what you were going to say, looking all serious like that.” It’ll just be one big joke to him.

“I myself strive to live true to my own heart. You’ve always told me you hate lies and lying—or was that a lie? Your feelings will not wait for you to be ready to act on them, my dear. One never knows when this peaceful world might once again fall apart.”

“Maris—”

“Hmph! Tell him how you feel! Nothing ventured, nothing gained, my dear. Heaven knows I’ve gained nothing despite all my confessions, however...?!”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that!”

“Sir Alois wished one thing for his reward: ‘The freedom to marry whoever one chooses.’ The wish was granted, albeit limited to only a single generation. Upon hearing this, girls hither and thither across this Kingdom were besides themselves with a most amorous desire for him!”

“The freedom to marry whoever one chooses?” Why would Rockmann wish for something like that?

While I’m over here pondering the mystery of it all, Maris continues talking. “Seriously, though, how many times do you think he’s broken my heart? You’re being a little naive with the whole ‘falling in love’ with him, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not being naive—I don’t think that this is going to go well at all...”

“That’s what I’m telling you! Getting all weak-kneed over him is naive...!”

And so on and so forth, our banter continues. After we’ve teased, scolded, and consoled each other to our heart’s content, Maris gets up to leave. “I must ensure Princess Mislina is well,” she says, and walks back behind the stage curtain. Our little argument—half in jest, at that—leaves me somehow feeling warm and relaxed even after she’s gone.

I close my eyes and take her words—Maris’s words—and write them across my heart.

＊　＊　＊　＊

“Ms. Maris, are you really alright with how things turned out?”

“Well, I certainly ended up encouraging my rival in love a good deal more than I expected.”

Nikeh and Benjamine, as good friends of Nanalie, have been given special permission to meet with her, and they watched Maris and Nanalie’s conversation from behind the stage curtain. Of course, they hadn’t been planning on eavesdropping on the two of them, but once they’d heard the topic of discussion, they’d decided to wait until they were finished talking. Once Maris heads back behind the curtain herself, they pull her aside for a brief conversation.

Maris looks at Nikeh and Benjamine, winces at their wide eyes. “Did you hear all that?” she says, smiling. “She came right out and told me that she’d fallen in love with him! Honest to a fault, that girl is. Normally one would conceal such feelings, would they not? And yet without any hesitation whatsoever, she tells me, someone who adores Sir Alois, that she’s fallen in love with him! Love makes fools of us all, does it not?” She sighs, glancing back over at Nanalie, who is looking to and fro in the crowd for her friends. “But that’s what I like about her.” A pause, a shake of the head, and then she continues. “Why, he’s always, always, been the apple of my eye, you know. If he must indeed be taken away from me, then, truly, I would want him to be Nanalie’s. I’m much less vexed if he’s hers, rather than married off to some random upstart little princess from nowhere. Even so,” she says, tearing up a little, “I wonder if you two might lend me your shoulders, for a moment?”

Maris pulled the other two tight against her and pushed her face against the fabric of their dresses. “He’s the gentleman I love, and she’s a beloved friend of mine—how could I not cry, at a time like this?”

And so it is that in this moment, Maris understands what it really, truly means to have her heart broken.

Embraced by both Nikeh and Benjamine, Maris weeps.

＊　＊　＊　＊

The celebration of the Kingdom’s restoration begins with a speech from the King.

“I am delighted that this wonderful day has arrived at last. As but one of many who has now experienced apocalypse, however—my voice, my body, and my very heart cannot help but tremble with relief in the knowledge that all of us really, truly are gathered here to celebrate this day.”

Sitting in one of the chairs lined up next to the throne, I see Prince Zenon looking as well as ever. The party had come about so suddenly, and everyone’s been so busy preparing for it, that while even though the Prince and I have both been inside the castle the whole time, we’ve not yet spoken to each other. Then again, I suppose the very idea of Prince Zenon having a conversation with me, a commoner, would be unusual in the extreme. I guess I don’t have any right to be disappointed that he hasn’t come to see me.

“And it is on this day that we honor one Nanalie Hel, the final hero of the apocalypse. She turned what might have been the ending of our world into a new beginning, and she has awoken from her deep slumber at last. I now ask our hero to please step forward, so that we may award her with all the ceremony she deserves.”

At the request of the King, I climb the few steps leading up to the raised dais upon which he stands. Maris had told me how it was all going to go, so I’m not surprised by the summons.

I stand before the King and bow in greeting. My heart is full of a confusing mixture of emotions; I feel uneasy, I feel ill, I feel embarrassed and apologetic, really, all because he’s referred to me as a “hero.”

The moment I ascend to the center stage, I am—mind you, this is no exaggeration—met with an almost deafening wave of applause. I feel the cheers of the crowd reverberate inside my heart.

“I’ve spoken to your good parents,” King Zerolight says to me, not loudly, but normally, as if we were merely having a chat about the weather. The shiny black hair of his, the same hair that Prince Zenon inherited, flutters slightly in the breeze.

“I—I still haven’t spoken to them myself...?”

“I had a discussion with them regarding how the Hel family might be treated moving forward. We haven’t finalized anything just yet, however, and for the moment I’ve had the two of them depart to reside in the Land of the Sea. As the two of you are not only descendants of the Sea King himself, but since she is Princess of the Sea, and you, her daughter, I as King cannot allow any sort of impropriety to create a rift in Doran’s new relationship with the Land of the Sea. She may indeed have run away from home, yes, but even so, the formalities must be respected between heads of state. After all, it was the Sea Peoples who came to assist Doran in our time of need, so it is only fitting that we return the Princess to them.”

In other words, because the Kingdom of Doran had been helped out by the Land of the Sea in our battle against Städal, my parents had been sent to the Land of the Sea as royal envoys tasked with the mission of formalizing an alliance between the two Kingdoms. Furthermore, King Zerolight tells me that the status quo of my parents quietly living in Doran as private citizens cannot go on until the Sea King renders his formal judgment as to how my parents are to be treated—or, possibly, dealt with, depending on how you want to interpret that. Still, time flows differently on land than it does in the sea, so no final judgment had been made just yet. I let out a small sigh of relief before voicing the question I feel he’s leading me to ask.

“Are you saying that I should leave Doran as well...?”

“Not at all. After all, each hero is granted both one million pegalos and one wish; you have not yet made your request. Nanalie Hel, I ask you now: have you some wish I may grant?”

At the word “wish,” everyone around me goes quiet.

I look down from the dais, looking for my friends and everyone else I know and love. Nikeh, Benjamine, Satanás, Zozo, Mr. Alkes, Ms. Harris, the Director, everyone, they’re all there—

“I wish...I wish for every day of my life to be like it has been up until now.”

If that wish of mine can be granted, that is. I don’t want to be anyone’s princess, nor do I want to be some “special” person.

“I don’t want anything to change. I want to live here in Doran, as an ordinary person, do the job I love, working as a receptionist lady, and spend time with my family and friends. I want to enjoy living my life in the same way I always have.”

“You don’t want anything to change? That’s a tall order. Now that you have been recognized by all as not only a descendant of the Sea King, but the vessel of the Ice Ancient, your life has become quite different than that which might be considered ‘normal.’ Despite all that has happened, you still wish for a return to normal life?”

“If my wish can be granted, then yes, that is what I wish for: to live as a commoner, just as I’ve done all my life.”

“Is that so... Alois was right about you, you know.” The King’s eyes soften, and he looks as though he’s about to start chuckling to himself as he says Rockmann’s name. What in the world does he mean by that? The King nods to himself and claps his hands together twice.

“Very well! Let the party begin! Chief Mage, I require your services!”

From the other side of the stage, a blonde and bespectacled man wearing a navy blue cloak approaches. His long hair flows down over one shoulder, bound at the end by an ornamental hair clip. On both his hands he wears several rings. With every step he takes, he taps his long, golden staff against the dais, coming to stand next to me and the King.

“Now then,” the King proclaims, “let us have a spell of celebration, that our Kingdom of Doran may enjoy a bright and shining future for many centuries to come.”

The man raises his golden staff, and down from the sky drift countless slivers of light. Like rain they fall even beyond the Isle, to the far reaches of the Kingdom, as far as the eye can see. I stand there, utterly transfixed by the sight of what can only be described as a snowfall of sunlight, dazzling to behold. People in the crowd raise their hands up in the air as they try to catch the slivers as they fall.

“Here, a little celebration for you too.”

“Ouch!”

The long-haired, bespectacled man—Alois Rockmann—in the midst of all the crowd’s cries of joy, bonks my forehead with his golden staff. “What are you thinking?! That hurt, you know.” Irritated at the dull pain in my head, I watch him closely to try and figure out what’s going on here. Looking cool and calm as always. I can hardly believe just how normal he looks, considering the state he was in last I saw him... My chest feels tight at the memory. At the same time, however, just seeing him here, standing in front of me like this with a smile on his face... There’s this other ache, dull and dim, somewhere deep inside of me. I feel it every time we make eye contact.

“I’ve just erased a part of everyone’s memories about you, Hel.”

“You erased their memories?”

“Yes, everyone’s memories. The whole world’s memories, to be precise. I made it so that they’d forget you are a descendant of the Sea King. No one will remember you are a Royal of the Sea.”

“Hold on...the whole world?! Not just here in Doran, but everywhere?!”

“Why yes, I just cast a spell on the whole world, everyone on this continent, no big deal.” Excuse me? That is a VERY big deal! If he actually did as he claims, he’s no ordinary mage. I can hardly imagine magic on that scale...but he said that as if he just told me he had vegetables for dinner yesterday, so casual about it that it’s practically terrifying.

“I told a lie to the whole world. Hate me all you want, I don’t care.”

So saying, he places one hand on my cheek, gently stroking my skin with his long, warm fingers.

All I had wished for was a normal life. Come to think of it, though, the life I had before wasn’t so normal at all. I’d known I was making an unreasonable request. But to erase someone’s memories—to erase the memories of the whole world? It feels far worse than lying. “I hate lying,” I say.

(What, dear Reader, do you think Rockmann said to me next?)

“Your world still exists inside you,” he says. “Always remember that.”

I sense a sort of sorrow behind his words, and I clench my jaw at the pain it makes me feel. He’s been looking after me, all this time.

“Well anyhow, everything’ll calm down now, won’t it? You’ll be able to do your job and go about your daily life without too much trouble. Oh, also—don’t worry about your parents forgetting about you, I made it so that it didn’t affect them. Not that I could really expect my magic to work on anyone under the sea,” he says, jokingly.

As I wipe away the traces of tears on my cheeks, I notice red flower petals are fluttering in the air.

“To dance is to live! Let us not be bound by the fetters of appearance or class on this fair day! Let us simply take hands and dance on and away!”

At these words from the King, the crowd cheers with a “huzzah!” and begins to spread out.

“Now, now, you two, come and join the dance!” The King presses us down off the stage and onto the makeshift dance floor. Everyone around us is joining hands and dancing to the music. Some dance in pairs, others in fours, and yet others dance in circles of ten or twelve.

“Yikes! He just pushed us right off the stage! The King seems like he gets carried away at parties like this, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, don’t say such dull things. Hey, you alright?”

Rockmann stretches out his hand to me, as I’m kneeling on the ground after being dismissed (most unceremoniously, at that) by the King from the stage. “I don’t need you calling me dull,” I retort, taking his hand. “Thanks.”

We don’t immediately start dancing. For a while, we just stare awkwardly at everyone around us. Then, all of a sudden, I realize that we are holding hands. When did that happen? Why is it happening? Oh, wait—I guess I forgot to let go of his hand after he helped me to stand. But who forgets something like that? Does he realize what we’re doing...or not? I quickly let go of his hand. The expression on his face doesn’t change; his eyes simply meet mine.

Now that I know how I feel about him, just keeping eye contact with him is difficult—or rather, it’s completely embarrassing. If I look away now, though, I’m sure to feel like he’s beaten me again—and I definitely don’t want to feel that way. Determined not to lose out to him once more, I keep my gaze firmly locked with his.

Seconds, minutes, dozens of minutes pass, or they don’t, I’m not quite sure. “Um,” Rockmann says, “the King told us to dance, so I think we kinda have to.” He reaches out to me, and my eyes are drawn away from his to look down at his proffered hand. Quietly, I take his hand in my own and we begin to dance, not adhering to any particular style.

“You know, it’s amazing to think that despite the relationship you and I have, this is the third time we’re dancing, isn’t it?”

“You’re right. Despite our relationship.”

We move our feet to the rhythm of the cheerful music, the ground shaking in time with the movements of all the other dancers. In the corners of my vision, I catch sight of children, jumping high off the ground to the beat of the song.

“I’m not sure how you feel, but to be honest, this whole past month has been just absolutely maddening.” It’s unclear as to whether he really feels “mad,” however, based on the look in his eyes as his gaze shifts down to stare at the various rings on his hands, each with its own unique design.

“I just can’t stop thinking about what happened that day, what happened while I was freezing over. All I can remember is the feeling of all that cold creeping over and into my body...that, and the image of someone crouched over me, crying.”

He closes his eyes as if he’s recalling that image as we speak and our dancing slows down. On that day, in that place, I’m sure that everyone felt as if they were watching the world itself come to an end. Everyone was suddenly forced to realize that their lives would soon be over. They were forced to come to terms with the fact that they would die, without any sense of resolve or peace. Accepting that truth would be hard for anyone, especially him.

I’d been told what had happened after I finished off Städal. What they’d also mentioned, however, was that no one had predicted I’d be in a coma for a full month after casting my final attack.

Dr. Aristo had apparently made it out alive. Even if he had been manipulated by Städal all the while, there was no excusing what he had done. As such, he would be tried in the Royal Court following his full recovery. He’d been stripped of his title as “Count” in the aftermath of the battle.

“He’s got a long, tough road ahead of him,” Rockmann says to me quietly, eyes still averted. “If only I’d been more able to fight him myself. I should’ve been able to.”

No, Rockmann, you shouldn’t have. What’s gotten into you, anyway? Where’s your usual overpowering self-confidence? On the day of the battle, he’d almost lost someone who’d been like a father to him, the stadium he’d been charged with protecting had been utterly destroyed, and he’d collapsed to the ground long before I had. He seems really beat up about the whole affair. Maybe by “maddening,” he meant that he’s been mad at himself all this while.

“No, that’s not how it is at all,” I finally say. “You fought well, more than well, really, and it’s thanks to you, Rockmann, that I was able to defeat Städal at all. Thanks for saving me back then.” I pause, then continue. “I just...I just wanted to make sure I got the chance to say that to you.”

It’s not right of you to criticize yourself like that. You’ve done nothing wrong.

I suddenly recall that’s not the only thing I need to say to him right now.

“Um... I have to tell you something. Just...one more thing.”

“What is it?”

My lips feel as though they’ve been spelled shut. I can’t move them how I’d like. No matter what the emotion, if you never tell anyone, no one will ever know about it. I breathe. It’s time. It’s time for me to name this, this feeling that’s come bubbling up from deep inside of me, overflowing.

Rockmann looks at me rather suspiciously as I stand there, silent and fidgeting for a few moments, before finally finding the words that express what I want to say:

“I love you.”

It comes out as a mutter, a half-whisper. Still, I manage to look straight at him and maintain eye contact the whole time.

He leans in close. I can’t tell from his expression whether or not he actually heard what I said or not. Both of us stop dancing, and his grip on my hands loosens.

“What did you say? Just now?”

“I—I’ve said it once, and I’m not going to say it again! Um, ah, bye now, you dunce! Oh and stop being so hesitant and doubting yourself! Lighten up!”

I’d only actually been able to say it because I’d been so caught up in the flow of the conversation. I definitely won’t be able to say that again. I’m going to die. I’m going to die right here, on this very dance floor. Oooooh I just knew it would be like this! I feel like I’m going to throw up.

And yet I find that this new part of myself, this new feeling—I rather like it.

“Whoa, hold up, Hel—”

“Ahhh!”

Rockmann grabs my hand, and thanks to that I lose my balance. Our legs get tangled together, and it’s not long before the two of us fall with a bang right to the ground.

“Sir Alois?!”

“Nanalie?!”

“Good heavens, what a shameless display of affection...”

After we’ve quite thoroughly tumbled our way to the ground, I find myself lying on top of him. My body is against his, his face is against mine—and my mouth is lost to his. His lips are pressed against my own, and I feel a hint of soft, steamy warmth.

My eyes, full of surprise, snap to meet Rockmann’s. His glasses have fallen off from our tumble. I see his eyes glowing resplendent crimson, a heat suddenly flushes my cheeks, and my hands begin to shake. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt another’s lips against my own. This makes it look like I pushed him over to kiss him, doesn’t it? Plus, my face is definitely beet-red right now. No one’s going to believe me if I tell them I planned none of this.

Quick! I’ve got to get off of him, quick!

I rush to slide away from him, but Rockmann holds me tight against him, one hand on small of my back as he says—

“I love you too.”

—as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Huh? Uh, wha-what?”

Unable to bear my embarrassment any longer, I arch my back as hard as I can to get away from him. Yet still he smiles, and this time doesn’t try pulling me back. So he did hear what I said after all! But more importantly, what did he say just now? I rack my brains far and wide to try and make sense of what sounds my ears just heard.

Every job—and every love—has its own joys and difficulties.

As I look down at the man beneath me, I understand that these ups and downs (and downs and ups) will likely go on happening for the foreseeable future.

“You did it, Nanalie!”

“But if you marry a Marquess, you’ll be a Marquise! Are you going to quit your job?”

Hm? Was that Zozo and the Director talking to me just now?

“Oh but my dear, they haven’t said a word about marriage, now have they?”

“Nah, that’s totally obvious that that’s where this is going. Premier Querohli wouldn’t have gone to all that trouble just so that they could date each other.”

“Your Highness! What in the world are you trying to imply? Nanalie, are you all right?”

“Looks like Alois can really get it with the ladies, can’t he folks? Really, who needs a job when you’ve secured permanent employment, huh Nanalie?”

“Naru? Shouldn’t you be more concerned about making me your bride before you start commenting on other people’s marriages?”

All around are friends—or actually, maybe I don’t know these people at all—flat out gawking at the two of us. Please. Where’s the nearest hole. I would very much like to crawl into a hole right now. What in the world is going on?! How can my friends be saying those things, so nonchalantly? Sure, have all the fun you want at my expense! But I can’t just leave the Director hanging like that.

I raise my voice high and loud to answer her question about “quitting my job:”

“I want—I want to be a receptionist lady!”

This is a story that no one knows; this is a story that someone knows.

This is a story of a receptionist lady.