[789] Dead Calm (2)
Every time the Arakne dancers moved, the feathered ornaments on their costumes flashed in a dazzling display.
Amid a sight that made one stare in rapt attention, someone suddenly stepped up right beside Shirone.
"Truly… isn't it beautiful?"
He was a man in his thirties, his hair sticking up in messy tufts and a short, sparse beard on his chin.
"Ah, yes."
"I've never missed this contest since I was old enough to afford travel. Does it please the eyes? The mind? Both. If only for one flaw."
"One flaw?"
The man answered with a mournful look.
"I never got married."
Just as Shirone was about to leave, the man grabbed his arm and pulled him back, whispering.
"It's not just that they're beautiful. The women in this contest are the best brides—learned, virtuous, and with the bodies to match. How could I ever get married? Folks tell me to wake up from the dream, but isn't a dream meant to be dreamed?"
The self-proclaimed world beauty-contest aficionado seemed to have a lot of grievances in life.
"Do you know my dream? Surprisingly realistic. I want to go on a date with one of those women. I've even started a savings plan."
Shirone had a bad feeling.
"It comes to me every night. If I could date the greatest beauty, I'd die happy that day. This is my dream! The grandest dream a man can have!"
"Um, I'm a bit busy right now…"
"You must come to the contest. Take this."
The man fumbled through the zipper of his crossbody bag; Shirone waved his hand.
"No, you don't have to."
It looked like he meant to give him an admission ticket, but Shirone could come and go whenever he pleased if he wanted.
"Here, take it."
Instead of a ticket, the man produced a flyer anyone could pick up off the street.
"…Ah, thank you."
Like a machine, the man spun around, made a hand-megaphone, and shouted toward the procession.
"I love you! Miss Märchen!"
Shirone slipped away to a quieter spot and clicked his tongue.
'There really are all sorts of people in the world.'
On the road toward the royal palace, he glanced at the flyer and saw portraits of past winners.
'Wow, they're really pretty.'
Human appeal varies, but their looks were undeniably distinctive.
"Huh?"
What truly caught Shirone's eye wasn't the portraits but the list of invited singers from each country.
"Maya?"
He narrowed his eyes and checked again. Indeed, the singer from Tormia was listed as Maya.
'Come to think of it…'
Iruki's remark that Maya had signed with a famous agency floated into his mind, finally making the contest worth his attention.
'I should check this out.'
If she really was the person he knew, he intended to make time to go.
'I hope it's Maya.'
He resumed walking, but a commotion rose from the rear of the procession.
"Abolish the beauty pageant!"
People in black masks and black clothes held signs and staged a street protest.
"Don't commodify human beauty! The Arakne government must immediately repatriate the contestants!"
The slogans made the issue clear.
'This place is no different.'
Tormia had its own beauty contests, and each time they attracted steady criticism.
'I understand the sentiment…'
What Shirone had learned was that the world contains an enormous variety of people, and finding a system that satisfies them all is nearly impossible.
"Ugh, my head aches."
Humanity: a puzzle neither Buddha nor Yahweh could fully solve.
* * *
Officials who had worked overnight at the Arakne palace were hoarse from shouting since dawn.
"Hurry! There's still dust everywhere!"
The palace's record-breaking cleaning was because of intelligence that the Ivory Tower's Five Stars were coming.
'This is killing me! Even when foreign kings visited, we weren't put through this much fuss.'
Even junior staff were forced to wield dusters without exception; the handmaidens were soaked in sweat.
"Ugh!"
Those who had avoided the labor were few, but the mental strain might have been worse.
"Why of all times do the stars have to come now?"
King Paronica of Arakne slammed down his armrest in the Grand Hall. Gold earrings hung to his shoulders; his features showed the firm bearing of both continental and southern bloodlines.
"Your Majesty, please remain seated. The Five Stars are not people one receives lightly. Their visit carries symbolic weight."
Although Arakne belonged to the Seven Kings, it wasn't notably more powerful than the others. The Ten Isle Kingdoms were grouped under the name 'Cartesia,' and Arakne simply represented them.
"That may be, but…"
The Ivory Tower's Five Stars visiting Arakne would boost the prestige of the other Ten Isle Kingdoms.
"I am practical, you know."
Everyone knew the Valkyries of the holy war were fiercely resisting the Gustav Empire's expansion.
'It's probably about war affairs.'
If the holy war were directly involved, they could demand proper compensation.
'So they deliberately sent stars. That way, there's nothing my country can gain from this, right?'
Uorin was a pragmatist.
"Moreover…"
The chancellor reported again.
"One of the kingdom's largest events is at risk of being disrupted. If for nothing else, the Five Stars' visit could work to our advantage."
"Are you suggesting terrorist threats? Hmm."
"I've heard that the star called Shirone isn't as strict as the others. Rumor says South Aymond transferred a large sum to him to gain control of North Aymond. That suggests he isn't entirely without material desire."
"But South Aymond is different. They wouldn't pay that much for something so trivial."
"Of course. So rather than money, why not offer something else to win him over?"
"Something else… Is that possible?"
The chancellor gave a thin smile.
"Leave it to me."
He left the Grand Hall and headed for the office of the chief administrator who ran the world beauty contest.
"Welcome, Chancellor. You must be busy with state affairs and yet you've come all the way here…"
"I've come with a favor to ask."
For a moment, unease rose.
"A favor?"
"We need Miss Arakne, Barho Rangi, for an important role."
The unease became reality.
"…One of the Ivory Tower's stars?"
"You grasp quickly; I like that."
The manager shook his head.
"That's not it. Having Miss Arakne entertain a foreign dignitary would lower our national dignity."
"Who made Miss Arakne what she is? It was by His Majesty's order. Prepare her and send her at once."
"Couldn't it be another woman? Miss Arakne has never been used for formal entertainment before. She's a girl who clawed her way up here for this role—seen all the dirty business to get this far."
"Now, now, administrator."
The chancellor's gaze made the manager flinch.
"Do you think I'm asking you to die? Am I asking you to pluck a star from the sky? Isn't there anything humans can't be made to do if pressured? Will you only wake up when a sword is at your throat?"
The manager bit his lip and bowed his head.
"I'll do my best to persuade her. But if she refuses even after I speak to her…"
The chancellor turned away coldly and opened the door.
"You'd be better off listening when I tell her myself."
When Shirone arrived at the palace, he was greeted by high officials and led into the Grand Hall.
"Welcome, star of great intellect."
King Paronica rose, and his bulk made it clear he was a head taller than Shirone.
"Yes, pleased to meet you. I'm Shirone."
Even the shortness of the name set him apart from the other stars.
"Ha ha! You have a fine spirit. Come this way. We prepared a modest banquet."
A ten-meter table was laden with every kind of dish, but only two people sat to dine.
There was no point in nitpicking every little thing, so Shirone sat without speaking.
"As you might have seen on your way, the parade is in full swing. Had we known you would come early, we would have sent a reception."
"No, I just enjoyed the spectacle—it was fun. It looks like a wonderful festival."
There was nothing Shirone disliked more than fighting demons; this was preferable.
"Good. Though the war with the demons has unsettled many nations, this is precisely when we should enjoy life."
The world beauty contest was a cultural venture that brought tremendous revenue to Arakne.
"The reason I came is…"
Cutting to the chase, Shirone conveyed most of the information except for state secrets.
"We ask that the Arakne government cooperate in opening its asylum records."
"Of course we'll help. But with only names and features, it will take time. We'd have to review all asylum records from the past ten years or so."
"We don't have much time. How long will that take?"
"As you know, Arakne supports free asylum. Still, we'll mobilize all personnel and process it by tomorrow morning."
It was a reasonable timeframe, but it felt suspiciously easy for them to hand over internal records.
'This is going too smoothly.'
In any case, Arakne had promised full support, so waiting was the prudent choice.
"You may use all the facilities in Bengal freely. I've reserved a hotel suite for you to stay in."
"Thank you for your concern."
While Shirone took the carriage to the hotel, the world beauty contest's manager arrived at Miss Arakne's lodgings.
"Rangi, I'm coming in."
When he opened the door, a woman so beautiful she might be called a brown-skinned angel was applying mascara with languid lashes.
Miss Arakne, Barho Rangi.
Born into a mid-level military family, she had studied history before diving into this world of pageantry.
"What is it? Why the sudden visit?"
Rangi stayed indifferent and focused on her makeup; the manager gave up beating around the bush.
"You're going to have to entertain a guest."
The mascara wand froze mid-air, but her expression barely changed.
"Why? Is some foreign commander visiting?"
The manager ground his teeth.
"A mere commander wouldn't warrant this."
Rangi resumed her makeup.
"If you don't want to, say so. Of course you won't want to. But I have to hear it from you directly before I act."
"What about the fallout? How will we handle it?"
"You are Miss Arakne. If you refuse, no one can force you. But the moment it's leaked, it will disgrace the kingdom's major enterprise."
Understanding she couldn't easily answer, the manager sighed and turned away.
"Then I'll assume you refuse—"
"I'll do it."
Rangi finished her makeup and stood.
"Are you serious?"
"Do I need to tell you how serious? I know better than most how terrifying politicians can be. It's better to squeeze my eyes shut and get through it."
Rangi walked past the manager and held out her hand.
"Where do I go? Give me the profile."
Embarrassed that everything had already been arranged, the manager forced out a voice and handed over the dossier.
"There will be a contest, so request that there be no injuries."
That was the extent of the concession. Rangi flipped through the file with a cool smile.
"Huh?"
Expecting someone of imperial rank or higher, she blinked as she read the profile.
"A mage?"