Chapter 37: Ignorance is bliss.

One’s own actions can, in the end, come full circle and strangle oneself.
That felt exactly right.
You cannot leave the responsibility for your actions to someone else, nor can you control how others perceive them.
Experience is the fusion of self and other.

Then everything happening now was, undeniably, the result of Violet’s own past actions.
She was fully aware of it, so she had no intention—or right—to complain.

Yet whether she could welcome it with open arms was another matter entirely.

“I’m sorry, Lady Violet.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind at all.”

“Thank you.”

Mirania smiled brightly.
Beside him—directly across from Violet—Claudia sat with her arms folded, wearing an unreadable, faintly displeased expression and staring off to the side.

Mirania had noticed but showed no sign of reprimanding her.
Violet, of course, knew perfectly well that Claudia was brimming with discontent.
Mirania kept it from showing because, despite finding women difficult, he was by nature gentle with them.

Normally neither of them would ever choose to sit at the same table as Violet for lunch.

So why were they now facing her at such close quarters?
An unfortunate coincidence—and the consequence of actions Violet had taken long ago.

First, they had arrived at the cafeteria during the peak of lunch rush, when it was most crowded.
The hall was vast enough that crampedness was never an issue, yet the number of seats was not especially large.

Today, for some reason, students were scattered in small, spaced-out groups.
That created a peculiar pattern of empty seats: every open spot was surrounded by people—unsuitable for the two who preferred quiet.

And finally, the area around Violet was conspicuously empty.
It looked as though a hole had opened up around her alone; anyone could see she was being avoided.
She was aware of it herself and had plenty of ideas why, so she had paid it no mind.

She had never expected Mirania of all people to speak to her.
She had assumed that even if he wasn’t as openly hostile as Claudia, he would quietly choose another table.

When he asked if they could use the seats, she had no reason to refuse and agreed too easily…
But she hadn’t expected him to sit directly across from her.

She herself had been monopolizing a table meant for ten, so she was hardly blameless, but she had assumed he would at least take the far end.
No—against a prince, she should have moved to the edge herself or vacated the table entirely…
Yet doing so now would make it look as though she were the one avoiding them, and she was frozen in place.

“You’re not with Yulan today?”

“Ever since entering the upper division we haven’t been together quite as often.
He still looks out for me, though.”

For childhood friends of the opposite sex, they still spent more time together than most, but compared to middle division—when they had been together every day—it felt much less.

She was happy he cared and doted on her, but just this once she was glad Yulan wasn’t here.
No—if Yulan had been here, the two of them probably wouldn’t have approached at all.

Everyone knew—especially Violet and Mirania—that Yulan and Claudia did not get along.
They weren’t childish enough to quarrel openly, but they were still young enough that they couldn’t completely hide it behind bright smiles.

“…The food will get cold, you two.”

“Oh, right. Claudia, face forward.”

Neither dish was steaming, but both were freshly made; temperature surely affected the taste at least a little.

Sharing a table with others always made one a little self-conscious, and all the more so with acquaintances.
For Violet, however, such consideration was unnecessary.

In fact, she would rather avoid casual conversation that might breed needless misunderstandings—both for them and for the onlookers watching her.
Almost everyone here shared the common understanding that Violet was infatuated with Claudia.
Only Violet herself knew that those feelings had long since vanished.

Even Claudia, who sensed something had changed, could hardly imagine that the girl who had once been as persistent as a stalker now felt absolutely nothing.
Not out of arrogance, but because for safety’s sake he had to assume he was still the object of affection.

At last Claudia turned her gaze toward Violet—no, toward her food—and Violet lowered her eyes to avoid meeting them.

It was simply so she could eat, yet for some reason Claudia felt a creak near his heart at that small motion.

The memory that rose unbidden was the smile he had seen that day—the gentle, soft expression Violet had shown Yulan.

It hadn’t changed much… just the slightest upward curve at the corners compared to now, yet her usually rigid mask had undeniably loosened.

He remembered it well: the glimpse of deeper red between beautiful, glossy lips.

“…Um… is something the matter?”

“N-no… nothing.”

He had been staring without realizing.
When Violet looked up at the noticed gaze, their eyes met; though he harbored no impure intent, words failed him and his gaze darted everywhere.

Mirania let out an exasperated sigh beside him, but Claudia could hardly explain what he had just thought.
That would be impossible for both of them.

Desperately searching for a way to cover it, his eyes landed on the small plate in front of Violet.

“I was just thinking… that’s a very small portion.”

“Eh…?”

While Claudia and Mirania had standard full meals with sides and mains on their trays, Violet had only a single plate—a sandwich, nothing more.

Gender differences aside, for a healthy teenager it was undeniably scant.

“Girls often eat lightly; it’s not strange at all.”

“I… know that. Sorry for butting in.”

He was aware it was a forced excuse.
Light eating was one thing, but there was also the dieting trend among some girls… whether Violet needed it or not, it was possible she was restricting food to watch her figure.

Either way, it was not something outsiders of the opposite sex—Claudia and Mirania—should comment on, and he regretted it.

“No… I’m not particularly a small eater, but this amount is just right if I want dessert afterward.”

Violet was well aware her current portion was small.
In fact, she had chosen it deliberately.

Her stomach wasn’t so tiny that a single sandwich would fill her.
But to fully enjoy dessert afterward, a full meal would be too much; she did have a naturally small appetite.
And since she preferred sweets to regular food anyway, this balance had become habit.
Yulan didn’t particularly approve, but since she could only control her meals like this at the academy cafeteria, he had never scolded her.

“Lady Violet likes sweets, then.”

“Yes, well… though people often say it doesn’t suit me.”

She gave Mirania a practiced smile—the one she knew fit the situation best, not the unguarded one Claudia had once seen directed at Yulan.

With that, she ended the conversation and returned to eating.

Pale fingers grasped the toasted bread; protruding lettuce and melted cheese disappeared into her mouth.
Small bite marks, much longer chewing than Claudia or Mirania’s single bites; her jaw trembled slightly when she swallowed.
The moment she bit again, white teeth and a pink tongue flashed briefly between vivid lips.

Claudia’s mind began imagining on its own.

“…It suits you.”

“…Eh?”

“I think it suits you. Sweet cakes, chocolate… anything, really.”

Because he had spoken so suddenly, she seemed to swallow mid-chew; her throat convulsed.
Tension visibly ran through her body—too late to feel sorry.

Even Mirania beside him stopped eating in surprise at Claudia’s words.

“The way you eat is very… beautiful.”

He imagined it: those hands cutting, those fingertips picking up, the small mouth taking it in, the sweetness felt on the tip of her tongue.
The emotions that would overflow, the expression that would bloom.

It would surely suit her perfectly.

“…………”

“…!!”

Claudia realized his words had been a mistake when he saw Violet’s rare, unmasked expression.
She had no time to compose herself; she simply looked bewildered, like a pigeon hit by a peashooter.

Her large eyes opened even wider; it was less surprise than sheer incomprehension.
She hadn’t yet shown discomfort, but that was only because she hadn’t fully processed the meaning.

Staring at a woman’s eating manners so openly was rude; she had every right to be offended.
Even if meant as praise, whether it would be taken well depended heavily on their relationship.

Between Claudia and Violet, there was nothing good.

A prince who had once been burdened by unwanted affection, and the lady who had burdened him.
Under different circumstances his words might have been received positively, but the problem was if she interpreted more feeling than was there—for example, if she thought Claudia was interested in her.

He dismissed the possibility instantly.
Though he didn’t fully trust her yet, he was aware something had changed in Violet.

Then the other possibility:
If she found his words creepy.
She wouldn’t show it openly because he was a prince, but being genuinely revolted would hurt no matter who it came from.

He couldn’t take it back now, and no clever excuse came to mind.
Claudia felt the crease forming between his brows and cursed himself for attempting something he wasn’t good at.
Praising women was Mirania’s specialty; clumsy imitation only strangled oneself.

He had no choice but to apologize without reason—
—or so he thought, until a second ago.

“What… does that mean?”

That doesn’t explain anything, Violet covered her mouth and—
laughed.

Her brows were lowered, confusion far outweighed joy, yet it was unmistakably a smile of sorts.

Far from the unguarded smile Claudia had once seen directed at Yulan—naturally, given the difference in feelings and relationship.

Still, the fact that she was smiling, that real emotion accompanied it, struck Claudia behind the eyes.
And seized his heart.

Not a manufactured smile, not a pasted-on expression—an honest manifestation of Violet’s heart.

“But… thank you. I’m happy you said that.”

Just a faint flush on her cheeks, lowered lashes, eyes that softened for an instant.

Something welled up, something clamored to be let out; he forced it down desperately.
No more, a silent voice insisted.

Before the lump in his throat could make a sound, a shadow fell across their table.

“Vio-chan, is this seat free~?”