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Translator: penny
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: The Coachman's Seat
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I opened my eyes.
The ceiling came into view.
The ceiling of the imperial villa dormitory.
"..."
Yesterday's events.
I wished it had been a dream.
Please, let it be a dream.
I picked up the crystal orb from the table.
Red Thread Gallery.
Access.
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"......"
It wasn't a dream.
This was reality.
The entire gallery was plastered with my face.
I set the crystal orb down.
I lay back on the bed.
I stared at the ceiling.
"...I don't want to get up."
I meant it.
I really, desperately didn't want to.
I thought of the croissant from yesterday.
'Le Maison de Pain'.
The imperial supplier bakery.
That crispy, buttery croissant.
...
I can't go there anymore.
After what happened yesterday.
Haa.
I let out a sigh.
For now, let's wash up.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
I finished washing up and came out.
I opened the wardrobe.
Clothes provided in the dormitory hung there.
They were flashy.
A red silk jacket.
A cloak embroidered with gold thread.
A silver cape.
A blue velvet vest.
All eye-catching colors.
...No way.
Wearing these would draw attention.
Attention means notice.
In the back.
In the corner.
Covered in dust.
A gray outfit caught my eye.
A plain gray shirt without any decoration.
Matching gray pants.
And a gray overcoat.
Perfect.
Gray. The color of dust. The color of stone walls.
The color no one pays attention to.
This is it.
I took out the gray clothes and put them on.
I looked in the mirror.
...
Hm.
Not bad?
Plain.
Ordinary.
No presence.
Perfect.
In these clothes, no one would notice me.
I nodded in satisfaction.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
After breakfast.
The participants gathered.
They said we were heading to the first mission site.
The transport was carriages.
Several carriages were waiting.
Each carriage had a crystal orb installed.
For filming.
"Conversations inside the carriages will also be broadcast."
A staff member explained.
"Just talk naturally."
...
I scanned the surroundings.
The other male participants were visible.
The count's third son.
Today, he wore a red jacket.
He seemed determined to stand out.
"If I ride in the same carriage as Her Highness the Princess..."
He was muttering to himself.
"Naturally steer the conversation..."
"If I offer an escort first..."
He's really putting in the effort.
The viscount's second son.
He wore a cloak embroidered with gold thread.
He held a small notebook in his hand.
"For the Saintess, topics like this..."
"For the Tower Lord's daughter, magic theory..."
"For Her Highness the Princess, political issues..."
He seemed to have notes written down.
Thorough preparation.
The baron's fourth son.
His large build made even the flashiest clothes look crude.
He stood there with a tense expression.
The western viscount's third son.
...
Who was that again?
Oh, there he is.
Didn't notice because of zero presence.
Everyone was preparing in their own way.
Flashy clothes.
Prepared conversation topics.
Strategies to catch the women's eyes.
...
And me?
Gray clothes.
A belly full of hard bread.
And.
The coachman's seat.
Yeah.
The coachman's seat.
The carriage interior is filmed.
Scenes of participants talking get broadcast.
But the coachman's seat?
It's outside.
Camera blind spot.
Sitting there means no attention.
Perfect plan.
I eyed the carriages.
Which one would be good?
The one at the very back.
The least noticeable position.
Good.
That carriage it is.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
I sneaked toward the back.
The other participants were clustered around the front carriages.
The Princess's carriage.
The Saintess's carriage.
The Tower Lord's daughter's carriage.
They were in a subtle battle of wits to board those.
Good.
No intention of getting involved.
I quietly headed to the last carriage.
A coachman sat in front of the carriage.
Middle-aged man.
Beard full and unkempt.
He was dozing off.
...Perfect.
I approached the coachman's seat.
"Excuse me."
The coachman opened his eyes.
"Yes? Oh, you're a participant."
His eyes widened when he saw me.
Silver hair, gray eyes.
Grand duke family's second son.
He recognized me.
"C-can I sit next to you?"
"...Pardon?"
The coachman looked bewildered.
"The seat next to you. It's empty."
"Th-that's the coachman's seat..."
"I know."
"Participants should ride inside..."
"I prefer it here."
"..."
The coachman gave me a strange look.
Of course.
A grand duke family's young master wanting to sit by the coachman.
"Um... why do you want to sit here...?"
"Just wanted to see the outside scenery."
A lie.
The real reason was to avoid the camera.
"W-well, if that's the case..."
The coachman seemed at a loss.
"So I can sit?"
"...Yes. I guess there's no rule against it..."
"Thank you."
I climbed up next to the coachman.
A wooden bench.
Hard.
Much less comfortable than the cushioned inside.
But I didn't care.
This was better.
This was paradise.
The breeze was cool.
The sunlight warm.
Ahead, horse's rear end.
...Scenery not great.
But no camera.
That's what matters.
"Heh heh heh heh..."
Laughter escaped me unknowingly.
Success.
Finally secured a spot out of sight.
"Heh heh..."
"Y-young master?"
The coachman asked with uneasy eyes.
"Why are you laughing?"
"It's nothing."
"..."
"Just in a good mood."
"......"
The coachman fell silent.
He looked like he'd seen something scary.
A grand duke family's young master giggling alone on the coachman's seat.
Normal to find it weird.
Didn't matter.
I was in a great mood.
Just go quietly like this.
"Heh heh heh..."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Look at that."
The assistant PD said.
Chief PD Belrix peered into the crystal orb.
The carriage procession was visible.
In the front carriages, participants were talking.
The count's third son was saying something to the Princess.
The Princess looked indifferent.
The viscount's second son was talking books to the Saintess.
The Saintess smiled, but her eyes weren't smiling.
"We're not getting enough footage."
The assistant PD said worriedly.
"Everyone's too tense; conversations are awkward."
"Hm..."
Belrix nodded.
"Yeah. Not entertaining."
"What do we do?"
"Check other carriages first."
The assistant PD manipulated the crystal orb.
The screen changed.
The last carriage.
"...Huh?"
Belrix's eyes widened.
Coachman's seat.
A silver-haired man sat there.
Gray clothes.
His hair fluttered in the wind.
Gray eyes gleamed in the morning sun.
Next to him, the coachman sat with a perplexed expression.
Grand duke family's young master and coachman.
An mismatched pair.
But.
"...What is this?"
Belrix muttered.
Kasian on screen.
Staring quietly ahead.
He'd been laughing moments ago.
Now expressionless.
Silver hair fluttered in the wind.
Gray clothes shimmered silver in the morning light.
Gray eyes gazed into the distance.
His face impassive.
Yet somehow lonely.
"......"
Belrix drew a breath.
"This is..."
"Chief?"
"What is that...?"
Belrix pointed at the screen.
"What are the other participants doing?"
"Trying to impress the Princess or Saintess..."
"Right. Sucking up."
"Yes."
"But that guy?"
Kasian on screen.
Sitting by the coachman.
Separated from the others.
Alone.
Solitary.
"What does that look like to you?"
"..."
The assistant PD looked again.
Silver hair in the wind.
Gray clothes seemed noble instead.
As if rejecting flashy colors.
Gray eyes seeming to gaze at nothing.
As if uninterested in power.
As if transcending worldly things.
As if enjoying solitude.
"......"
"That's."
Belrix said.
"'The Solitary Northern Grand Duke's Heir's Contemplation'."
"...!"
"While other men fawn desperately, he's off alone facing the wind. That's true grand duke family dignity."
"Oh..."
"Look at that lonely profile. Seems lost in deep thought. Like he has some profound worries."
"It does look that way..."
"And those gray clothes."
Belrix's eyes sparkled.
"He deliberately chose plain ones over all the flashy ones. Humble. A grand duke family scion who doesn't strut."
Belrix clapped.
"Move the camera magic orb!"
"Pardon?"
"Fix it on the Northern young master's profile. Can't miss this scene."
"Got it!"
The assistant PD hurried.
The crystal orb adjusted.
The camera magic orb flew over.
Locked on Kasian's profile.
On screen.
Silver hair fluttering in the wind.
Gray eyes deep in thought.
Lonely yet noble aura.
"...Perfect."
Belrix admired.
"As expected of the Northern young master. Everything he does is picturesque."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Nice."
The breeze was cool.
The sunlight warm.
Coachman's seat is great.
No one's watching.
No one's filming.
Peaceful.
Just go quietly like this.
Then.
Something felt off.
A gaze?
I turned my head.
A small crystal orb floated there.
...
Next to me.
...
Facing my face.
...
"......"
What the hell.
The coachman said.
"Ah, that's the filming magic orb."
"...Filming?"
"Yes. Production team controls it remotely. It just flew in."
"......"
"It's locked on you, young master."
"......"
I stared at the crystal orb.
The crystal orb stared back.
The lens glinted.
...
Why?
Why follow me here?
This is the coachman's seat.
The corner.
Out of sight.
Why film me?
"......"
The crystal orb adjusted angle.
Locked on my profile.
Didn't move.
Completely fixed shot.