Part 4: A Debate Risking Life, Death, and Every Penny to My Name

While the Benz Mansion has multiple guest rooms, there are apartments designated for its many servants. These are located at Benz Square, along with other buildings that sell supplies for the Chief and his associates.

—Robin Benz

“You have… three different magic types inside you?” Mayor Crank repeats, puzzled. “That is unheard of.”

“I can confirm,” Roo supplies. “I did magic therapy on Haruki recently.”

“You did magic therapy and the boy’s score was still in the seven hundreds?”

“Well, with his amount of magic, of course even the slightest damage would upset the entire flow inside him. A vicious unknown magic creature collided with him, and you expect him to be all better after just one session?”

“Alright, alright,” Hans Belostrer interrupts, both hands outstretched in front of him to placate Roo and Mayor Crank. “Our time today has been exhausted. We’ll resume the trial tomorrow at the same time we started today. Two more topics remain.”

Many of us in the room collectively sigh in relief. Seeing the mayor and the son of Chief Pons bicker had been spooking the moderator and the adjudicators for nearly the whole hour. Mirei and I on the other hand are simply grateful we got through that dumpster fire of a debate. We somehow managed to come out on top this time around, but who knows what else the moderator has in store for us. We quickly gather our things, salute the officials respectfully, and speed out. Roo leaves his beaded pendant on the debate table and closely follows us outside the doors.

As soon as we make it beyond the courthouse doors, we all stop, side by side. Then, in one explosive movement, we whoop and cheer. The drunken feeling of victory consumes me so entirely that I even grab Mirei’s hand and spin her around me, laughing. She squeals and lets herself swirl around and around, sage dress whipping in the wind. I’m sure passersby on the streets outside the courthouse are staring with befuddlement, but I don’t mind them. Once the dizziness gets to be too much, I let Mirei go and whirl around toward Roo. He jolts backward when I stretch out my hands, making grabbing motions at his wrists.

“No, absolutely not—”

I grin and launch myself at him instead. He can only yelp once before I wrap my arms around him, squeezing him tight. I rock us side to side, pulling surprised noises from Roo’s throat.

“Thank you so much for everything,” I beam, leaning my cheek against his masked one. He heats up under my embrace. His arms twitch where they brush against the haori he dressed me with, tentatively wrapping around my waist. A strained noise leaves his mouth as he lets his chin rest against my shoulder, slumping against me.

“Sure,” he murmurs. His breath puffs out from the sides of the mask, warming my neck. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end in wake of that ticklish sensation. The more he relaxes in my arms, the faster my heart thuds against my chest. Roo might feel the thumping where our chests are pressed together, so I pull away, but only so much that my hands can rest on his shoulders.

How I wish I could see his face. I can only imagine the lazy smirk surely pulling at the corner of his mouth, a pair of thin eyebrows arched high in bemusement, cheeks plum pink under the heat of the suns.

“...What?” Roo mutters, hands fidgeting with one of the golden threads hanging from his belt. That’s when I realize I’ve been staring for far too long. I cough into my fist as a blush burns my face.

“Nothing. I’m just thinking about how we wouldn’t have done so well today without your teachings,” I admit with a short, contented breath. “Mirei and I actually remembered a lot of it.”

Mirei dances around Roo, ducking beneath my arms in the process, cheeks rosy with happiness. “Yeah! You’re a good teacher, Sage Roo!”

The aforementioned Sage puffs his chest out and rolls his shoulders back to summon an air of regality. “Why, thank you young pupil. Shall we return to the Benz Mansion and resume our lessons?”

I coil back and Mirei freezes in her spot behind Roo, face fallen. Tumultuous memories of Roo’s crash course on the rules of trial cause dread to pool in my gut.

“N-N-N-No thank you,” Mirei stutters, teeth chattering upon remembering those rigorous four hours of studying. She dashes to my side and away from Roo. He nods once and crosses his arms.

“Well, I suppose we shouldn’t jump right into lectures right after such a draining trial. Let’s go home, recover, and dine. I’ve yet to introduce you fully to Lade cuisine. Those malcinas are hardly filling,” Roo remarks.

At the prospect of a full platter of food, saliva pools in my mouth. I instantly breach the distance I’d put between us and nudge Roo with my elbow. “What are we waiting for then, let’s go quickly!” I pipe.

Before we disappear into the noon crowd bustling on the streets, I hear the courthouse doors click open and the boyish cry of Janol. “Congrats on finishing the first day!”

We all turn around to see Janol, wind rustling his wide-brimmed hat, brandishing a pair of thumbs up. His grandmother hobbles behind him with a wrangled tree branch for a cane. Her gentle eyes crease deeply above her bright smile as she gently holds her own farmer’s hat in place.

“You youngsters sure are something,” Madam Murel’s old voice rings clear like bells in our ears. “On our way out, that mayor had the most astonished look on his face. Kept tugging on his beard, deep in thought. Not sure how he didn’t smack right into the wall!” She laughs heartily. We spend quite a long time conversing with the two, all laughter and hugs.

Mirei and Janol promise to meet up after the trial’s end (because they’re unshakably convinced that we’ll win scot-free) to play Xilio Ball. I have no clue what that entails, but I wouldn’t mind seeing Mirei have fun. She deserves to play like a child, regardless of the messy situation we’ve found ourselves in. It’s already been a week and Mirei’s gotten antsy. Making a friend like Janol is a great way to release some of her pent up energy.

As we say our goodbyes, Madam Murel invites us to dinner at her farm sometime soon. She promises hearty vegetable soup and roasted malcinas sprinkled with her secret seasoning.

The walk back to Benz square is a long one. There isn’t an array to the mansion nearby, so we’re stuck walking. Roo keeps wearing that austere mask the whole way, even when the crowd thins and eventually disappears. There is only the occasional servant darting between buildings or hauling a stack of plates from the ceramics shop.

It’s only until we’ve closed the massive doors of the mansion behind us that Roo finally unties the green thread of his mask. A porcelain face painted with intricate, flowering designs slides off Roo’s head to reveal tan skin and a contented smile.

“Dinner isn’t for another hour. Shall I give you a tour of my home? Or—”

“Nap. Please,” Mirei demands. Tiredness has stolen her energy a few minutes ago. She looks ready to crash.

“I wouldn’t mind that either,” I add, rubbing my eye. “I’m feeling sleepy.”

Roo hums before motioning toward the wide staircase behind him. “Alright.”

We make our way up the stairs, yawning. Roo chuckles at the way we drag our feet. It’s like we’re already sleepwalking. Once we stop in front of familiar sculpted fish heads and blue gems, I frown. This is the door to Roo’s room.

“Are we sleeping in your room?” I ask, looking to Roo for an explanation.

He stands ahead of me, though, so I can’t see his face when he replies languidly, “All of our guest rooms are under reconstruction at this time. My father wanted to freshen them up for the Rooted Xulte Festival of Dance and Song. He said it was a brilliant opportunity to clean up the mansion as we decorate.”

“Oh,” I say at length.

Well, it’s only for one hour. As long as he doesn’t snore, I can sleep anywhere, even with the nervousness strangely coursing through my veins. Once inside, Roo supplies me with pajamas weaved from the finest of silk. They have an ebony sheen that intimidates me— I can’t sleep in such luxurious clothes. I would be far too worried about wrinkling them or drooling on the collar by accident. I respectfully decline Roo’s offer and ask for a linen shirt and simple trousers or something. He shrugs and tosses the silk pajamas back in his wardrobe without a care about creasing them. After digging quite far, he surfaces from a heap of clothes with a simple white T-shirt and shorts made of a cotton-like material. They’re soft to the touch and feel vastly less expensive. After he hands them to me with great care, I sigh contentedly and glance at Mirei. She stands a few paces away, rubbing both her eyes and yawning loudly.

“What about me?” She mumbles, morose in her fancy dress. “I ain’t sleepin’ in this.”

Roo tosses a large white shirt at her. It smacks exactly on her face. She looks like a ghost with the way it hangs over her, covering her head and upper body. I snort behind a fist.

Mirei cries, “What was that for?!”

Roo simply turns away and starts stripping. “I suppose I’ll nap too. All your yawning is infectious, like a disease of sleepiness.”

Mirei and I turn around to give everyone some privacy. As I slip the crimson haori off my body, I find the familiar buzz of tension under my skin. I don’t know why I’m nervous—we’re just napping, for god’s sake—so I slap my cheeks twice to get myself together. Once I’ve neatly folded the white and crimson clothes on the jade floors beside me, I slip on the rest.

Roo’s deep voice echoes throughout the room from behind me. “I should tell you I only have one futon available. And it’s quite small. So only one person might be able to fit on it.”

I bite my cheek. “That’s no probl—”

I cut myself off as soon as a memory from two years ago surfaces in my mind. Mirei had decided to sleep next to me for whatever unfathomable reason, so we tucked ourselves under the covers of my bed and drifted off. However, that night, I didn’t sleep a wink. Her kicks are like a horse’s: violent and unpredictable. Bruises mottled my body for weeks after that. I still remember the fierce will I mustered up to not throw her off my bed. That would be mean, and big brothers who are mean to their little sisters should be sentenced to death in my mind. So I kept my peace and whispered curses under my breath every time her knee slammed into my pancreas.

Roo stares at me, confused. “What?”

“Uh…” I gulp. “I think perhaps Mirei should take the futon.”

“What?!” Mirei cries, stomping her foot. “I want to sleep in Roo’s comfy bed!”

“You kick in your sleep,” I deadpan. “A lot.”

Roo sucks in a sharp breath. “Oh, that’s not good. Yes, I wouldn’t want that little devil next to me. Haruki, be my nap buddy.”

I crank my head over to Roo, eyebrows raised. He did not just call me his nap buddy, did he? Am I hallucinating? I rub my burning face before completely disregarding that comment. I tell Mirei while pointing to a corner of the room, “I think I saw a futon over there.”

She gazes wistfully at the queen-sized bed heaped with swathes of blankets before trudging over to the futon. While she gets to work hauling it closer to the bed and unrolling it, Roo throws a sage-colored blanket over to her. Then, he glances at me once, twice, three times before mumbling, “You gonna get in?”

My heart flutters against my will. I swallow once before shuffling toward Roo’s bed.

I might not get a second of sleep at this rate, I sob mentally.