The biggest attraction of Rotair's National Foundation Festival, an event held in the summer, was the installation of a large fountain.
At Michiel Square, where the festival begins, dozens of workers hired by the royal family were sweating hard installing a huge stone fountain. The border was decorated with reliefs of the sea God and his sons and daughters, which had been passed down in Rotair folklore, and the smallest tier was a luxurious fountain depicting a river with sparkling water and sapphires and diamonds.
Typically, the fountain was completed a week before the National Foundation Festival began. What's special about this fountain is that there's more to it than just the beautiful decorations that change every year.
“The water has a scent.”
“It smells good?”
"Yes. The fragrance is placed in each pipe through which water comes out so that the fragrance permeates the water as it passes through the pipe.”
“It’s fascinating. Rotair has all kinds of interesting techniques.”
“Last year it smelled of violets, rhubarb, and tuberose. I wonder what this year will be like.”
Rogero said that he wanted to see the fountain being installed in person, so Franz and Judith went out to the Place Michiel together. Although dust was blowing everywhere and there was loud noise due to the construction, the streets were full of excited onlookers and the workers' faces were full of energy.
After hearing Judith's explanation, Rogero's eyes sparkled like a boy and he asked again.
“Is there a separate royal perfumer who makes this fountain?”
Franz shrugged his shoulders and answered.
“There are no perfumers belonging to the royal family. But every year, we select one person from among the perfumers who have a shop in Plaza Michiel. Being in charge of steering the fountain is quite an honor, so the competition is fierce.”
When a fountain is installed, people make wishes by throwing commemorative coins into it. There is also a superstition that great luck will come if the coin falls exactly where it was intended, so by the time the National Foundation Festival began, the bottom of the fountain would already be filled with shiny silver coins. Women brought out small pieces of cloth or handkerchiefs and put incense on them.
“When the festival starts, the royal family comes out here, right?”
Judith and Franz nodded at the same time to Rogero's question.
“A ceremony to announce the beginning of the founding festival is scheduled to be held in the square. It is an event that many people will see, so it is very large.”
“What kind of event is it?”
“We set up a large stage on the south side of the square, and we built a platform on top of the stage and placed candles on it one by one. On one side, His Majesty the King, and on the other side, a person designated by His Majesty the King holds the embers and lights them in order. They believe that if the fire burns all the way through once, the Kingdom will prosper peacefully for the next year as well.”
Judith played a role in lighting the fire at last year's founding festival. When Queen Gilsis heard the news, rumors that she had gone on a rampage even reached the Argent Palace, so it was clear how important the people of Rotair regarded the international hosting ceremony.
***
The three people watched the fountain being installed for a while, and when the sun was getting hot, they rode a carriage and returned to the palace. Rogero was so curious about the upcoming founding ceremony that he couldn't bear it. He was a person who loved games and festivals, so it was natural, but Franz made fun of him, saying he was like a child.
When the carriage stopped in front of Argent Palace, Bartholomew and Cheraan, who had been waiting inside, came out to meet them. But for some reason, Cheraan’s expression was sour. Not only that, but Bartholomew's forehead was also red and he looked somewhat embarrassed.
“What happened to you two?”
As Franz asked, Bartholomew's face became even more noticeably red. It was Cheraan who answered.
“No, Your Highness. Nothing happened.”
“It’s not like nothing happened.”
Rogero chimed in. He was quick-witted and raised his eyebrows with a sly look on his face as if he could guess what had happened just by watching Bartholomew's expression crumple from moment to moment.
“Cheraan.”
Judith took a step forward, gently squeezing Cheraan's shoulder and looking at her intently. Her eyes asked Cheeran to tell her what had happened. Then, to her surprise, Cheraan's expression also became similar to Bartholomew's. She seemed to be anxious about something, and her restlessness was evident.
“Please go in, Your Highness.”
“Aren’t you going to tell me what happened?”
“Well, I’ll go in and tell you. Here... a little."
Cheraan glanced toward Franz and Rogero. Then he glared at Bartholomew with a force that threatened to eat him and almost pulled Judith's hand and went inside.
After the two entered the Argentine Palace first, Rogero tapped Bartholomew's arm and laughed.
“You got dumped.”
Bartholomew was furious.
“I didn’t get dumped!”
“Isn’t it different? You can’t react like that if you don’t get kicked.”
“What do you mean?”
Franz belatedly looked up at Bartholomew with a puzzled expression. Rogero began to click his tongue, and Bartholomew looked even more embarrassed.
"That is...”
“Ha, when will this piece of wood become a person? If you throw a coin into a fountain, your wish will come true? Then I’ll throw about a hundred of them in and pray that the poor piece of wood will turn into a human being.”
Franz frowned as he brushed away Rogero's hand that was stroking his head.
“What do you mean? Am I the only one who doesn’t know about this?”
“You idiot, didn’t you even know how your cousin’s love life was going?”
When Rogero openly criticized Franz, his eyes widened. He looked towards Bartholomew as if looking around, then at Rogero, then back at Bartholomew, and his eyes widened. Meanwhile, Bartholomew's face had now turned into that of a baked apple.
“A love story?”
“There’s nothing like a love story...”
“Bartholomew, you and Miss Ebelta?”
It was the first time. It could be because it hasn't been long since he came back, but then why is Rosero talking like he clearly knows about this?
“Rogero, you knew about this?”
“Is that all you know?”
“No, how on earth? Bartholomew, did you only tell Rogero?”
“It wasn’t me who said it, but His Highness the Prince...”
Rogero suddenly started clicking his tongue. He looked at Franz as if he were a pitiful child, then shook his head and patted him on the shoulder.
“You really have no use for medicine. There’s a long way to go, a long way to go.”
“Rogero, please be quiet. Bartholomew, then what on earth happened?”
While giving and receiving, Bartholomew's expression had returned to its original state. He looked a little tired and dry, but that was probably because his feelings were dry.
"I'm... that..."
Bartholomew stuttered. Franz and Rogero each looked at him with excited expressions, to the point where it felt burdensome. Bartholomew's eyes narrowed.
“...Aren’t you both having so much fun?”
“Ah, leave that point later and tell me now. What are you?”
“After the founding ceremony is over, I want to formally greet the Marquis... I did."
Franz's eyes widened as he listened intently. However, Rogero again looked puzzled.
Rogero asked.
“What does it mean to formally say hello?”
Franz explained.
“It’s about getting married.”
“No, but are you going to say hello?”
“You only do that on the men’s side, not on the women’s side. When permission is given, the man tells his parents that he has received permission from the parents of his bride-to-be. Afterward, the parents of both families meet, and from there, the marriage ceremony takes place one by one.”
“It’s strange. In the empire, most parents just decide to marry each other. This is especially true for nobles. Not to mention the royal family.”
“We usually do that too. However, for girls, love marriages are more common than arranged marriages.”
“That’s the same for us. But even so, the parties involved in the marriage do not go to the other party's house in person. Anyway, I think it's up to the parents to meet and decide... Anyway, did you do that and get dumped?”
Bartholomew stuck out his lips with a somewhat clumsy expression.
“It’s not that I got dumped. It's not like that... I don't know I don’t know what she's talking about because she just says she doesn’t like it.”
“Miss Ebelta said she didn’t like it? That’s unexpected.”
Not only Rogero but also Bartholomew thought that way, so there was no way he could help but feel embarrassed. He had no doubt that just as he had feelings for Cheraan, Cheraan also felt the same way, but when he was rejected outright, he wondered if it had all been a mistake.
“Didn’t she tell you why you don’t like it?”
"Not at all. She suddenly got angry and told me not to talk to her again if I was going to say something like that.”
“Isn’t it because you said that so rudely? It’s an important story.”
“No, how do you say this in a cool way?”
Franz was speechless with a pensive look on his face. No matter what, Rogers clearly showed signs of dying because he was interested in someone else's love story that was on the verge of ruin, so there was no one here who could comfort Bartholomew.
“I’m sorry, Bartholomew. I don’t think I can be of any help to this problem.”
Franz, who was lost in thought, spoke in a helpless voice. Then he pretended to grab his stomach and said that Rogero was going to die from laughter.
“Franz, no one here expects you to help.”
“This kid is real.”
When Franz pretended to get angry, Rogero made a fuss and hid behind Bartholomew's back. Franz, who was trying to chase after him, saw Bartholomew's face suddenly darken and rubbed the corner of his mouth with an embarrassed expression.
"Hmm… Cher... Miss Ebelta must have something on her mind, too. If you tell a good story...”
“Franz, your advice is really of no help.”
“...I know, I’m sorry.”
The two people let out a shallow sigh at the same time. At that time, Rogero poked Franz in the side.
“Ouch, what’s wrong?”
“That person.”
Before he could finish speaking, Rogero pointed somewhere and spoke. Franz turned his head with his eyebrows knitted and saw a lanky figure standing in the middle of the road leading to the Argent Palace. It was Flavia.
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