One couldn't spend the entire day dressing up and applying makeup for the Miss Temple contest.

After taking off her dress and removing her makeup, Ellen finished taking a shower.

Liana had her practice not only the dress code and makeup, but also her facial expressions. Thorough preparation was essential.

Despite not having done much, Ellen felt extremely exhausted, both physically and mentally, due to her unfamiliarity with the tasks.

That didn't mean she disliked it, though.

It felt like discovering an entirely different side of herself she had been unaware of. Today alone, she had looked in the mirror dozens of times, wondering if it was really her.

After drying her hair, Ellen obediently lay down on the bed.

The Miss Temple contest would start tomorrow.

-Growl

Ellen furrowed her brow at the sound coming from her stomach.

It would usually be time to eat a late-night snack with Reinhardt. Ellen recalled Liana's stern warning.

"Don't eat anything you pick up tonight."

"...Why?"

"I know you don't gain weight easily, but if you eat something and your face swells up tomorrow, what will you do?"

"...I'm not sure."

"Anyway, just don't eat. You can endure it for just one day."

It wasn't that hard to refrain from eating a late-night snack. She could certainly endure it for a day.

But routines were powerful.

-Growl

"..."

Her body sent signals at the time she usually ate, but she wasn't allowed to eat now.

Moreover, when someone tells you not to do something, the desire only becomes stronger.

She had gone to bed without a late-night snack before, but today, knowing she couldn't eat, made her even hungrier.

Ellen was typically good at self-control. She didn't gain weight easily due to her exercise routine and constitution, and the Royal Class dormitory always had abundant food supplies. Besides, Reinhardt, who would do anything she asked, had been with her for quite some time.

Ellen realized she had rarely resisted eating recently.

Still, she needed to show a better version of herself tomorrow. She couldn't let hunger get the best of her.

She tried to force herself to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come easily.

Wondering if it was because of the moonlight pouring through the window, Ellen grumbled as she got up to close the curtains.

And then.

As she reached for the curtains, Ellen caught a glimpse of the street outside the dormitory.

In the darkness, under the moonlight,

she saw two familiar faces.

Reinhardt and Harriet de Saint-Owan.

They were walking hand in hand.

"..."

Ellen silently watched the scene from her room.

With her head bowed, as if embarrassed, Harriet walked beside Reinhardt, who held her hand gently.

Ellen, frozen in place, continued to observe the scene.

Holding hands.

How special was that gesture, really?

She had held hands countless times and embraced just as much.

She had always done so with Reinhardt. They were friends, after all.

Therefore, it should be considered as something friends do.

She should understand that it's well within the realm of their relationship.

But still.

Ellen couldn't take her eyes off their intertwined hands.

Had it already been taken away?

No.

It had always been this way, long ago.

The belief that there were parts only she could touch was a complete illusion.

"It's been a while!"

In reality, it had already happened long ago.

Had it?

Why were they?

In the end.

Holding hands was something that could be done.

She too had held his hand countless times.

Had she thought that touching Reinhardt was her exclusive privilege? That's why, seeing Harriet merely holding his hand...

Why did her heart feel so...

Fragile, as if it were breaking?

"I...I do have...sometimes, really...sometimes."

"You really think...that's petty..."

The words Harriet had once spoken echoed in Ellen's mind.

Ellen naturally realized that Harriet had always felt this way.

In places she didn't know about. With stories and memories she didn't know of. Watching from afar as they created a relationship she couldn't intrude upon.

All she could do was watch and do nothing in this situation.

That was how it felt.

Feeling betrayed, overwhelmed, angry, sorrowful, and wronged.

Had Harriet expressed this feeling with just the word "petty"?

It didn't seem like a feeling that could be expressed with just that word.

Ellen looked at the two of them returning to the dormitory.

Perhaps it was already too late.

Harriet was doing what she had to do. There was no need or reason to hate her. If she wanted to hate that sight, Ellen should have been the one to receive Harriet's hatred long ago.

Harriet was just trying her best in her own way; there was no need to hate her for that. Ellen tried to convince herself.

So, she just had to do what she had to do.

She had to show her best side tomorrow. After seeing her tomorrow, Reinhardt might change a little from what he was like up until now.

Exchanging various stories, he might change a little from what he was like up until now.

That should be enough.

Today is today, and tomorrow is tomorrow.

With her eyes tightly shut, Ellen tried her best to erase the lingering image of the two from her mind.

That night.

I swung my sword in the training hall.

Neither Cliffman nor Ellen was there. So, after a long time, I struck the practice dummy. I could have asked Saviolin Turner for guidance, but it was already late, and that lady secretly became enthusiastic when teaching, so I figured I wouldn't be able to sleep on time.

So, I swung my practice sword at the dummy.

-Crack!

"Damn it."

The practice sword broke.

I had wielded the sword to the point of oblivion. It's not like I'm that deeply immersed in swordsmanship.

What could it be?

I had lost track of time.

It was already well past my usual bedtime. If I had received lessons from Saviolin Turner, I would have finished earlier.

My whole body was drenched in sweat.

I collected the remnants of the broken practice sword and threw them into the trash, then opened the window of the training hall.

A chilly breeze brushed past my cheeks and sweat-soaked clothes.

Right now.

I must be feeling agitated.

What should I do?

No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn't figure it out.

It was long past my bedtime, and I didn't think I could swing a practice sword in this state without breaking another one. I decided to wash up and go to sleep.

I considered doing something to pass the time, but without Ellen around, I wasn't in the mood to do anything by myself.

"Oh."

As I walked down the hallway, I bumped into someone. The person who faced me tilted his head.

The one who faced me was none other than Bertus.

Shouldn't he be busy managing the magic train? What brought him to the dormitory at this hour?

"Why are you still awake at this hour?"

Bertus said what I was about to ask him.

"I was at the training hall."

"Training even during the festival. Impressive."

Bertus smirked.

"What about you?"

"Ah... I had some work to do, and now I'm going to rest."

Had he finished the magic train management work for the festival?

His dark circles were prominent, whether it was from staying up all night or having too much work. He had no business praising me for training during the festival; wasn't he working even harder than usual?

"Ah, I heard you won the tournament. Congratulations."

"Uh... Yeah."

Bertus patted my shoulder and walked towards his room. He seemed to have struggled quite a bit these past few days, as his exhaustion was visible on his usually stoic face.

And just when it seemed he was about to enter his room, he suddenly looked back at me as if he remembered something.

"Ah... Wait a moment."

"Uh... Why?"

Cold sweat broke out all over my body.

The others had safely passed by.

But not him.

He still hasn't seen me since I was dressed as a girl.

Bertus narrowed his eyes and stared at me intently.

No way?

Could he recognize me? Honestly, we only encountered each other briefly, so it was more like a fleeting glance, right?

"Hmm"

Bertus stared at me with a frown, then shook his head.

"No, I think I'm just tired."

Bertus gave me a spine-chilling grin and went into his room.

Back in his dormitory room, Bertus dragged his heavy, waterlogged body to wash up and lay down on his bed.

Managing the operation of the magic train during the festival.

He didn't think it was a trivial matter. The magic train was the most important means of transportation on the Royal Road, with many passengers even on normal days. Moreover, during this period, passengers flocked from all over the continent.

Therefore.

There are people who have never seen or heard of the magic train in their entire lives.

Some children cry, thinking it's a monster, while even adults panic and run away in confusion.

These are nobles.

Even in remote rural areas on the continent, there is a social hierarchy.

Deciding to travel to the capital to see the Temple Festival means they have enough money to pay the fees for the warp gate.

So, most of the time, high-ranking people from their regions come to the capital.

There are numerous people who complain about the lack of a noble-only compartment on the magic train. They argue about how they can use the same means of transportation as commoners.

Although it's laughable for these people to squabble over rank, Bertus had to handle this job well.

He had been under an enormous amount of stress trying to resolve all incidents and accidents smoothly and without issue.

So, feeling he needed to sleep properly for once, he had returned to the dormitory.

Bertus' head felt like it was about to explode.

However, upon seeing Reinhardt, something suddenly came to mind.

He hadn't had time to think about it while swamped with work, but he recalled the silver-haired girl he had encountered last time.

The moment he saw Reinhardt, the image of the silver-haired girl sprang to mind.

He couldn't forget her.

Having committed the unthinkable faux pas of spitting tea all over her face when they first met, Bertus would never forget her for the rest of his life.

'She does resemble him. She definitely does.'

He wondered if he was imagining it due to exhaustion, but upon closer thought, they did resemble each other.

Of course, he would need to see them side by side to be sure.

But it was certain that the silver-haired girl and Reinhardt looked very similar.

However, Bertus' train of thought took a peculiar turn.

First of all.

Bertus was so busy that he didn't know the details of the festival. At most, he only knew that Reinhardt had won the first-year tournament.

Therefore, he didn't know who the silver-haired girl was, nor that she had participated in the Temple cross-dressing contest.

Thus, to Bertus, the silver-haired girl was just a silver-haired girl.

Two completely different people.

But they looked alike.

They even shared a similar sharp tongue.

When he asked about her silver hair, she said it was dyed.

Moreover, Reinhardt came from the streets.

'Does Reinhardt have a sister or an older sibling?'

There are cases where siblings are separated, so it's entirely possible that Reinhardt may have blood relatives he doesn't know about.

All he had to do was ask Reinhardt.

If he had a younger or older sister.

Of course, Reinhardt would give an answer of either yes or no, but he would also be curious about why Bertus was asking such a question.

'Well, it could be a coincidence.'

People can coincidentally look alike.

If he carelessly mentioned that he met someone who might be his sister or older sibling, Reinhardt would undoubtedly be disappointed if it turned out not to be true.

'Should I investigate separately...?'

There's no need to go out of his way to tell Reinhardt about it.

If it turns out to be true, Bertus could help Reinhardt find his long-lost relative.

If not, it would merely be a matter of returning the handkerchief he hadn't been able to give back then.

Thinking that it was just such a trivial matter, Bertus gradually drifted off to sleep.