Vol 2 Chapter 148: The Banquet
As dusk dyed the cobblestone streets, the scenery along Rune Norrey seed dipped in a thin layer of blue.
The prop shops had already flipped their door signs to "Closed," their warm yellow light spilling through display windows where busy shopkeepers could be seen moving about inside. The corner café was serving its last custors of the day as several Magical Girls erged in small groups, chatting and laughing over coffee cups, creating quite a lively atmosphere.
Inside the slowly moving fairy carriage, Veronica adjusted the pair of gloves that felt sowhat unfamiliar on her hands.
The pristine white-laced, azure-blue gloves fit snugly over her fingers, with strands of starlight peeking through the gaps between threads. The pearl buttons intermittently reflected passing streetlights. The hem of her princess gown nearly brushed her heels, its taffeta fabric saturated with twilight hues, pooling like solidified milk against the cherrywood seat.
Such extravagant attire was clearly not Veronica's usual style. Her initial intention had been to find a fitted won's suit, but when she ntioned this idea to Erald, the latter had flatly refused and sowhat stubbornly selected this current outfit instead.
Since the choice had been made for her, Veronica simply wore it without complaint.
She had her own preferences when it ca to clothing, but that didn't an she was particularly attached to them. In truth, Veronica hardly cared what she wore—as long as it wasn't so revealing as to be indecent, or so cumberso as to hinder movent, most garnts were practically interchangeable in her eyes.
This princess gown currently draped over her fra happened to et both criteria. Though structurally sowhat complex, it remained within Veronica's acceptable range. Moreover, since this "dinner gathering" had been arranged by Erald—who undoubtedly understood the etiquette and protocols involved—following her lead shouldn't pose any issues.
As for the mastermind behind this entire affair—Erald herself—she sat across from Veronica wearing the sa ruana-style coat from their first eting. Her head tilted slightly back against the headrest, body leaning rightward against the armrest. The faint, even breaths and slight rise and fall of her chest indicated she'd already drifted into sleep.
Regarding their destination, Erald had provided no details whatsoever.
Even when Veronica asked, she'd only vaguely described it as "a gathering of friends," "just so casual chatting over food," without a single word about who these people might actually be.
Thus, even now, Veronica remained clueless about whom she was about to et. Basic social etiquette prevented her from disturbing Erald's nap either. With work communications already handled via phone and no reason left to even unlock her device, Veronica could only turn her gaze out the window, watching the passing cityscape.
This mystery crafted by Erald persisted until the carriage passed through the non-magical zone and arrived at a secluded launch point. When Veronica looked toward this landing area, the first thing that caught her eye was the airship docked there.
"Ah... hmm, seems we've arrived."
Erald—who'd woken at so unknown point—stretched with a yawn, steadied herself against the carriage door to survey the scenery outside, then straightened up and lazily ambled onto the grassy launch area.
"Co along, our destination's right over there," she finally said after a long pause, as if suddenly rembering she had company, turning back to address Veronica.
"Destination? You an that..."
Veronica followed her out, staring at the airship before them, montarily at a loss for words: "You're saying this so-called dinner party is on that vessel?"
"Indeed. Though I'm not entirely clear on the specifics myself, it seems to be sothing the younger generation ca up with."
Erald rubbed the corners of her eyes, wiping away tears induced by yawning, mumbling half-heartedly: "Called sothing like 'Flying Kitchen' or so chain restaurant concept—just a few airships carrying chefs who claim training from the Royal Court, flying about serving food that's honestly nothing special. Apparently quite popular among certain wealthy circles though. Novelty factor, I suppose."
"Royal Court-trained chefs?" Veronica asked while carefully lifting her overly long skirt to avoid tripping as they walked, montarily distracted by the keyword in Erald's explanation: "That must be incredibly expensive then?"
"Probably exaggerated. Been invited twice—nowhere near Rose Palace's culinary standards."
Erald adjusted her slightly wrinkled collar from napping as they walked: "As for the cost? Yes, absurdly pricey. But since soone else is footing the bill tonight, no need to concern ourselves with that."
"An ordinary friendly gathering at such an upscale venue?"
Having roughly gauged the airship's level of extravagance, Veronica couldn't help pressing further: "So exactly who am I about to et?"
"Simply fulfilling a promise I made long ago."
Having leisurely arrived at the airship's boarding ramp, Erald rely needed to show her face before the attendant, who promptly ushered both won aboard with deep respect. As they proceeded, Erald smoothed her appearance into an uncharacteristically dignified deanor Veronica rarely witnessed:
"After all, when we made our deal months ago, there were two conditions—resolving your Heart Gem issue was only one of them."
"...Ah. I see."
Those words alone made everything click for Veronica.
Simultaneously, she fully understood why Erald was adopting this unusually "regal" bearing and had insisted on such formal attire.
Months prior, when negotiating with Erald using the Beast Origin as bargaining chip, the older woman had ntioned having certain "friends" within the Magical Affairs Court of the magic nation.
"Friends" was naturally a euphemism. With the Sapphire Scepter position long vacant, the unsupervised Magical Affairs Court had gradually been carved up through power struggles—nominally under royal jurisdiction but actually controlled by a handful of noble houses and the other four Courts' Scepters.
Amid such political infighting, most Court mbers inevitably beca aligned with one faction or another, whether willingly or not.
Thus, as Chief of the Research Court and Erald Scepter, it stood to reason that Erald would maintain certain "connections" within the Magical Affairs Court.
Stepping aboard, the pair traversed a lavishly decorated yet functionally brief corridor—more ceremonial than practical—before arriving at a grand door.
Even through the closed entrance, cheerful conversation and laughter could be heard, indicating nurous guests had already gathered inside.
Without needing instruction, the attendants flanking the entrance bowed deeply to these clearly distinguished arrivals before quietly sliding the doors open.
Beyond lay an expansive "dining hall" where over a dozen Magical Girls of varied appearances sat gathered.
Unlike material world banquet concepts, none wore formal evening gowns or dinner jackets. Most sported either girlishly ornate dresses or cute yet appropriate casual wear.
Until the doors opened, they'd been chatting and laughing rrily, the air thick with pre-dinner sweets and lightheartedness—enough to mistake the scene for so young ladies' evening salon.
Yet the mont Erald crossed the threshold, all conversation ceased instantly. The girls straightened up uniformly, their playful deanors vanishing as if switched off.
By the ti Veronica gracefully entered behind Erald, the last murmurs had died into total silence.
Veronica studied the assembled Magical Girls as they in turn observed her.
No words were exchanged until, at so unspoken signal, the tallest girl standing nearest the head position stepped forward—prompting all others to rise from their seats.
In perfect unison, they perford an elaborate curtsy—a variant that transitioned into kneeling positions, their skirts blooming across the wooden floor like an extravagant bouquet.
No explanation was needed.
This was the most solemn ritual within the magic nation—the ultimate gesture of fealty from subordinates to their superior.
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