Hearing this, Eris raised an eyebrow and tilted her chin up, her gaze drifting toward the stained-glass ceiling.
Even if her little mind was a bit slow, Hilda had explained it so clearly that she naturally understood what her mother was talking about.
But the idea of choosing a husband didn't feel real to her yet.
And the thought of marrying a man and spending the rest of her life with him felt even less real; it sounded downright 'strange.'
Why get married?
However.
She understood the emotion of 'liking' someone.
She liked Grandpa, she liked Ghislaine, she liked Mother, she liked Alan, and she liked Sylphie.
But…
These feelings were clearly different from the one her mother and father seemed to share.
The only male she wanted to invite to dance was Alan, but that feeling… it didn't seem to be the same as her parents' either.
Eris frowned and spoke.
"I don't even know them. Why do I have to choose? Can I choose no one?"
Hilda gave Eris a placid look.
"As I said, the choice is in your hands. Of course, you can. While it's not uncommon for nobles to be engaged at ten, your father isn't placing any such demands on you yet. There's no rush. Even so, you should start honing your feminine charm. Otherwise, by the time of your fifteenth birthday banquet, if you find someone you like, it would be troublesome if they were to reject you. Look at Sylphie; she's younger than you, but she does very well in that regard."
Eris turned to look at Sylphie.
The latter, who had just snapped out of a mental image of 'being politely rejected by Alan with a bow,' was staring open-mouthed.
She waved her hands frantically.
F-f-f-f-feminine charm? W-w-w-where? I don't have any!
As her attention was diverted, she failed to notice Alan, who paused for a moment at Hilda's words before giving a nearly imperceptible nod.
Eris pouted and mumbled an affirmation.
"So, Mother, did you and Father perform a hand-kiss at the ball?"
At these words, everyone paused and looked up at Hilda.
Hilda tilted her head in thought and gave a somewhat helpless smile.
"At the ball? No. At your father's fifteenth birthday banquet, though my elders encouraged me to invite him, there were so many girls asking him to dance that I never got my turn."
Eris's mouth fell slightly open.
"Then… then how did you…"
Hilda stroked her head, her eyes softening.
"But my dear… he didn't perform a hand-kiss for anyone."
Eris blinked. "So you never danced with Father, Mother?"
"I did. Just not at a banquet."
"Ohh~"
Eris nodded, as if she understood.
"That's good then!"
Silence fell.
Neither mother nor daughter spoke again.
Rudeus's eyes widened. He glanced at Hilda, then back at Eris.
What do you mean, 'that's good'?! Shouldn't you ask for the details? Even I'm curious now…
He was about to pry for gossip when, at that moment…
Hilda shot a subtle glance at Alan. Logically, as the teacher, she should be guiding them to the next point of etiquette.
Their conversation had seemed perfectly normal, but ever since a moment ago, something—a tiny flame—had been persistently burning in her mind, preventing her from fully concentrating on the lesson.
Alan's words guiding Eris, that flash of intuition… it finally made her unable to hold back the question that had been swirling in her thoughts.
Her tone was no longer as formal as before; there was a hint of urgency in it.
"Alan, your guidance using swordsmanship as an analogy was brilliant. As expected of a teacher…"
"You seem very familiar with the social dances of noble banquets… I remember you're…"
She paused, turning to look at Alan.
Their gray eyes met.
"An adventurer?"
Sylphie, Ghislaine, and Rudeus all turned to look at Alan.
His expression clearly faltered for a moment, then he broke into a smile.
"Yes, Madam… In my old adventurer party, there was a swordsman from the Water God Style's main dojo. He was a fallen noble… The tension in a dungeon is high, and he would often tell us amusing stories about the nobility to pass the time. The dance steps were among them…"
Alan stopped mid-sentence. He looked down at the tips of his boots, his eyelids lowered, his thoughts hidden.
Rudeus and Sylphie looked surprised. This wasn't part of their plan, but in a way, it did align with some of their ideas.
Alan's story was full of holes. If the conversation continued, the situation was bound to change.
They didn't know about the Displacement Incident, nor the fact that Alan's soul was from another world, nor his lack of connection to his genetic family.
Even so, they had caught glimpses of the 'resistance' Alan sometimes showed towards the Boreas family.
Regardless of what Lord Philip and Lord Sauros are like…
At least Madam Hilda is a good person, right?
They weren't trying to force Alan to make a choice.
It was just that…
Any change is better than the current stagnation.
That way, they could adjust their approach and continue finding the best way to help Alan.
This was their initial plan.
Now was the perfect opportu—
"I… I see. That… that makes sense."
—nity.
??
Sylphie and Rudeus turned to Hilda in astonishment.
Hilda actually 'accepted' Alan's flimsy excuse? Why didn't she press him on the holes in his story?
Under their bewildered gazes—
Hilda's dark gray eyes had lost their earlier composure. She looked down, somewhat lost, at her shoes, which were now scuffed black from Eris's steps.
Her posture was identical to Alan's.
Even…
Their expressions were similar.
When you harbor a 'hope' in your heart so impossible you dare not even think about it…
You can be surprisingly calm.
Because the tree of 'hope' hadn't borne fruit in eleven years.
She had grown numb.
But when that 'hope' suddenly descends from the sky, in a form that seems 'possible,' catching you completely off guard and smacking you in the face!
How would one react??
With ecstasy??
And then demand answers?
No.
In such a situation, a person becomes fraught with anxiety, fearing both loss and gain.
She was afraid.
Emotionally, she couldn't accept the possibility that, after careful questioning, the result would once again prove to be another fruitless 'illusion.'
And so, Hilda subconsciously took a step back, choosing to retreat into her 'comfort zone.'
She accepted Alan's story.
As long as she didn't take that next step, the possibility would continue to exist.
Just a little longer.
Wait a little longer.
Let me…
…hope for just a little while longer.
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