Chapter 133 Heatstroke

MARIUS

The student council meeting ended right on time—eleven thirty, when the half-hour bell rang from the Clock Tower—largely thanks to the council secretary Hilda, who expertly guided the president, Mikael, whenever he went off on a tangent.

Once the meeting was over, I hurried to the front gate of the campus. Blanche didn’t exactly accept or reject the request to meet with the Second Consort’s messenger at noon. I interpreted her ‘tsk’ as a reluctant acceptance, but I couldn’t possibly rest my mind without confirming with my own eyes that I had fulfilled the task given to me by the Second Consort.

I spotted the lady with the green brooch as soon as I arrived at the gate. She stood inconspicuously, chatting with another—a rather tall and well-built—lady, whom I suspected was an armed escort for the Second Consort. They appeared to be just regular locals who had come to visit the Academy’s festival.

Good.

However, Blanche didn’t turn up at noon.

The messenger and the escort looked around, still trying to appear casual, but even from the distance I was at—perhaps thirty paces away—I could read the nervous discomfort on the messenger’s face. I kept my eyes on the direction where Blanche would come from, desperately hoping that she was just running a little late, but even at ten past noon, Blanche was still nowhere to be seen.

Then, close to quarter past noon, I saw a bit too familiar-looking blond-haired figure wave at me from a distance—perhaps a hundred paces away—and to my delight that quickly turned into horror, the figure began to run towards me.

Skylark—no.

I quickly hid myself behind a big tree that stood next to the gate, but that did not stop him from dashing in my direction.

“Mario!”

He even yelled out my name when the distance between us was about thirty paces.

Then, some way behind Skylark, I saw Liesel from the art club appear. She was covering her head with a scarf, but I recognized her by the green dress I had seen her wear at the exhibition hall when I visited in the morning.

Skylark then came to the gate and looked around to see where I was.

There really wasn’t a good place to hide myself here, so the best I could do was stand behind the big tree trunk and have it block his view of me.

But Skylark wasn’t going to give up easily, it seemed. I heard his footsteps get closer to the tree. Just when I felt that he was going to circle the tree, I took a gamble and began to circle the tree in the opposite direction. It worked for about half a circle, then Skylark said,

“Heh, playing hide-and-seek? I know you are there, Mario!”

Not good.

I kept on circling, paying careful attention to the sound of his footsteps, but I was outplayed by the village boy who probably played this game a thousand times—he managed to trick me with a direction change, and we ended up bumping into each other.

“I caught you!” Skylark said, grabbing my arms.

“Skylark—we need to be quiet,” I said.

“What for?”

“I…I need to check something. Covertly.”

“Eh? Some kind of a mission again?”

“Something like tha—”

“Oh, look! Isn’t that Liesel?” Skylark suddenly pulled on my sleeve after seeing that Liesel was approaching the gate as well, but when we looked at her face, we realized it wasn’t Liesel.

It was Blanche.

“Eh? Why is Blanche wearing Liesel’s dress? Hey, Bla—”

I quickly put my hand over Skylark’s mouth and pulled him behind the tree.

“Shh,” I whispered into his ear.

Skylark didn’t resist and went completely still.

I was glad that he understood quickly.

Blanche, then, looked around the area and spotted the lady wearing the green brooch. She walked over, they exchanged a few words, and began to walk away from the gate.

Good.

So she did accept the request after all—and not only that, she had the good sense to disguise herself to keep it a secret.

I stood in silence, keeping my eyes on Blanche and the two ladies the Second Consort had sent as they disappeared into the crowd outside the campus. They probably had a carriage waiting somewhere quiet.

Then I suddenly felt something wet on my palm.

Startled, I finally took my eyes off Blanche and jumped back immediately as I realized I was still embracing Skylark from behind with my hand over his mouth. And that meant he just licked—

Skylark then turned to face me, pulled down his lower eyelid, stuck his tongue out, and said,

“Hehe, got you there.”

My chest just exploded as if a fireball had been cast inside my body. My face felt incredibly hot with the rush of blood.

“Eh? Are you okay?” Skylark asked, taking a step forward to get closer to me, leaning in to bring his face closer to mine.

I took a step back to back away from him, but my back bumped against the tree.

Skylark got closer, then put his palm on my forehead.

“Your face is so red and your head feels hot, Mario. Are you alright?”

I tried to raise my arms to push his hand away, but my arms were flapping like I had no control over them.

“I think you might be having heatstroke, Mario. Take a seat—”

With that, he put his arm around me and helped me lower my body.

What—what is happening?

My knees grew weak and my heart thumped hard. I’d never been poisoned before, but I imagined this was how one might feel if hit with a poisoned arrow.

I sat on the grass, leaning against the tree, as Skylark said, holding my hand,

“I think I have to get you something to drink first. Wait here.”

He then quickly ran away from the tree.

I looked at my hand that Skylark had just licked. It still looked moist from his tongue. My vision was getting blurry.

What kind of sorcery is this?

I wiped my palm against the grass.

Then immediately regretted doing so.

Not because there was anything wrong with wiping it away. There was absolutely no reason why I should hesitate to clean another person’s saliva off my hand. If anything, hygiene demanded it.

Still, I looked at my palm again.

Ridiculous.

I pressed both hands against my knees and concentrated on breathing properly. Four seconds in. Hold. Four seconds out. My heartbeat should have followed shortly afterward. It did not.

This was surely heatstroke.

Except I had spent most of the past fifteen minutes standing beneath the shade of a tree.

Perhaps exhaustion, then. The previous night had been physically demanding, and I had not slept as well as I should have. That was a reasonable explanation.

Much more reasonable than sorcery.

“Mario!”

Skylark came running back, carrying a cup in one hand and what appeared to be a wet handkerchief in the other.

“Don’t run,” I said instinctively. “You’ll spill it.”

He slowed down immediately.

“Oh. Right.”

Somehow that helped.

He crouched in front of me and handed me the cup.

“Drink.”

“Thank you.”

I took a careful sip. It was simply cold water.

Then Skylark pressed the wet handkerchief against my forehead.

My entire body stiffened again.

“You’re still really hot,” he said.

“I am recovering.”

“From what?”

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.

“…Heatstroke.”

Skylark looked upward through the branches of the tree, where almost no sunlight reached us. Then he looked back at me.

“Under a tree?”

“Heat can accumulate.”

“Oh.”

He accepted this explanation with considerably less difficulty than I had expected.

For several moments, he remained crouched in front of me, holding the handkerchief against my forehead. I could have taken it from him. I should have taken it from him.

I didn’t.

“Were you waiting for me?” I asked eventually.

“Mm-hm! I told you I would hang out with you today.”

Of course.

I had told myself only minutes earlier that I should keep him away from what I was trying to untangle. Somehow, in doing so, I had nearly forgotten the much simpler promise I had already made to him.

“I apologize.”

“For what?”

“For leaving earlier without speaking to you.”

Skylark shrugged.

“You were busy.”

Then his eyes suddenly widened.

“Oh! I got something!”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny wooden bird.

“It’s a whistle.”

Before I could respond, he blew into it.

A shriek so offensively high-pitched and ear-grating pierced the air. I nearly dropped my cup.

Skylark burst out laughing.

“Isn’t it horrible?”

I stared at him.

Then, despite everything—the Second Consort, Blanche, Falken, the questions I had no answers to, and the fact that my heart still refused to behave properly—I laughed too.

“Yes,” I said. “It is truly terrible.”

Skylark grinned and sat down beside me beneath the tree.

We both leaned against the tree, Skylark’s hand still pressing the wet handkerchief against my forehead.

Just for a while longer.

I could do this just for a while longer.