The clumsy, mischievous way Frilo flew toward the source of the air mana reminded Maxwell of that day in Count Lorenzo’s mansion, when the spirit had left Maxwell and Lorenzo, heading to who-knows-where. Maxwell never questioned it after that. He should’ve.
Maxwell chased after Frilo, climbing up a wall that the semi-ethereal being flew over with ease.
He paused and gulped, blue eyes widening.
That pure air mana... when Maxwell first felt it, it felt familiar, yes. Really, really familiar. But he didn’t really expect that...
Perched on the fence, Maxwell’s widened blue eyes focused on a sight that he could only describe as enchanting.
And if he added another description to it, he would call it beautiful. And if he was being extra, he would call it the most beautiful sight he’d ever set his eyes on.
The air drifted around a slender woman, streaks of green energy swirling around the currents of the air, dragging beautiful, colorful petals of flowers in their way as they twirled around the young lady.
The lady, in the middle of this beautiful storm, was dancing.
Rita was dancing.
Frilo recognized her imdiately, and its mischievous smile lted into a luminous grin as it hovered around the lady, tiny blue wings flapping as it trailed azure energy around her head.
She couldn’t see Frilo, but the invisible spirit was dancing along with the lady.
At that mont, Maxwell’s heart did things that he didn’t know his heart could do before.
His heartbeat surged, blood rushing through his veins with untraceable speed, and even his breathing grew rougher and faster.
For a long while, he couldn’t believe his eyes.
Margarita was real.
She was... right there.
Dancing in front of him, without a care in the world.
The sa soul he had spent eons grieving. The sa soul he had defied the heavens to see, the one who...
His blue eyes beca wet and glossy.
Covered in that green dress, dancing along with the currents of the wind flowing in the garden, showered golden by the light of the setting sun—
—She was as beautiful as the day he lost her.
He quickly pushed back the plethora of mixed, complicated feelings, shaking his head. And then reality hit, and he began to spiral.
This wasn’t what he ca here for. He didn’t plan to see her today.
Maxwell wasn’t prepared for a eting with her right now. Not ntally, not emotionally, not even physically.
Hell, he was dressed in all-black, like a damn assassin.
He had to go prepare himself and his heart for their eventual eting soti in the future, which was soon. Because, right at that mont, his ears couldn’t pick up the sound of a single thing, only the drumming of his heartbeat.
Max imdiately called out to Frilo through their soul-link.
The grandmaster rank spirit refused to listen.
This infuriated Maxwell, almost making him yell out loud, but he stopped himself.
And at that small mont where his leg slipped, and the heel of his boot hit the wall, Rita discovered him — the man who was perched on top of the fence like a criminal of sorts.
Of course, he forgot. He forgot just how good her hearing was.
Thinking about it now that he stood in his room in Forina Inn, Maxwell reckoned that being called a stalker wasn’t so bad after all.
"But that wasn’t really the first eting I expected," Max whispered, smiling. "Well, I didn’t plan for our first eting at all since I want everything to happen naturally, but I had expected it to be more..." he scratched his hair, "I might’ve read one too many fairytales."
The youth sighed. Who was he even talking to? Frilo was asleep.
’It’s all Frilo’s fault.’
Definitely. Blad it all on the cute, innocent spirit.
’Anyway...’
Just before Maxwell could sink into the stream of cascading thoughts once more, a rapid knock echoed from his room door.
Max’s head turned toward the door, and he fixed his calm blue gaze on it.
"Yes?"
"rcenary Maxwell, I’ve been calling you!"
Maxwell raised his brows.
’Ah, yes. Olive.’
"Yes," he scratched his cheek, "pardon , I just woke up, and I’m still feeling a bit woozy."
"You were still sleeping, Maxwell? By this ti?!" She paused, and after a while, she continued. "Wait... don’t tell , did you... forget?"
Maxwell frowned, his blue gaze fixing on the door like it was a cursed enemy.
’Forget what? I forget a lot of things.’
"Pardon if I sound rude, Young Lady, but I must ask, forget what?"
"Today’s the High Ball!"
Max’s eyes widened, and his intense gaze lted imdiately.
He totally forgot.
How was it even possible for soone to forget sothing even while they were thinking about it?
His whole reminiscing a few seconds ago was all because he decided to inspect the estate, to discover if they were the ones hosting the High Ball.
It felt like one of those instances where a person was looking for sothing, anwhile, it was in their hand the whole ti.
’Would you look at that?’
This would never have happened if he were still a transcendent.
’I’ve beco completely human.’
One would think he’d have figured that out the mont his heart reacted to Rita like a lovestruck teenager.
Maxwell breathed out, and his smile returned.
"Is it ti to move?"
"Of course, it’s ti to move. We’re twenty minutes late!"
Maxwell scratched his hair. Since when did Olive lose her shyness and timidity?
He preferred the timid Olive. Old lady Forina must have done sothing to her. Or the High Ball just ant that much to her that she lost her whole timidity for a mont.
Whatever it was, Maxwell sighed, making his way toward the bathroom at the end of his room, quickly stripping off his clothes.
"Give five minutes," he said. "I’ll be downstairs before you know it."
Maxwell heard Olive’s sigh outside the door.
"O–okay..."
Now that was the Olive he rembered.
Her footsteps dwindled, consequently fading as she walked away from his room.
And so, Maxwell prepared to head to the High Ball.
’What’s the reason I’m even going there again?’
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