281 Wang Castle Walk "Snow White" (1/2)

On that day, Lilac M. Fangini had a visitor in her office.

There is room for debate as to whether or not to call a person who summons himself a guest, but let's leave that aside for now.

The person Lilac summoned was not a pimp who invited her to a tea party, nor was it the Lord Treasurer, whom she usually mistreated, but a poet with whom she had a chance relationship.

Her name was Mirabelle G. Gringott.

Her warm head of hair was bright enough to dazzle in the dim lilac of her private quarters, and her droll expression reminded me of a maid of some sort.

If the maid is crazy inside her head, this poet has nothing inside her head.

There is a great difference between the two, even though they are the same.

Lilac let out a sigh when she saw the woman who had been scalded by the tea served to her and was lolling her tongue in front of the princess.

I heard that the soldiers would have thrown her in jail if Izuna hadn't led her to the castle.

As for Izuna and Motosuke, they are probably having a good time in the botanical garden with their pimps and maids. I'm a little jealous of them, but I have some work to do after asking Mirabelle about the situation.

I'll just show up later for a little while. Lilac thought about this.

Aside from that, the reason I called you here is simple and straightforward.

When Lilac told her what had happened, Mirabelle, who had been pouting, put her index finger to her chin and muttered with a question mark on her face.

I don't know why I need two names. Why do you need two names?

”Welcome back is over there.

”Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!

Mirabelle, who called me over here and treated me so badly, but without any malice, her eyes were all puffy and she shouted.

It's a good idea to have a good idea of what you're looking for.

It's a shame, because I had high hopes for ...... you.

Oh no!　It is true that Mirabelle is often said to be a disappointment, but!

No, not at all.

But they also say that Mirabelle is good at being disappointing!

Don't insist.

What kind of self-promotion is this?

Shaking her head, Lilac stands up, clicks her heels loosely, and approaches Mirabelle step by step.

In this dimly lit room, and in the heavy atmosphere of the princess's office.

The princess, who has a reputation for being pretty, steps around Mirabelle with her hands folded behind her back, as if she is under some kind of pressure.

With a gulp, the natural Mirabelle gulped.

”Someday,” said Prim Lancaster.

”Who are you?

”It was a poet of great talent who gave two names to fighting swordsmen.”

Lilac herself did not summon Mirabelle because she was a poet.

But her talent was certainly demonstrated in Pasta-chan's Yuyake Concert. At least that's what Lilac thinks.

That's why the question. That's why the request.

”You know Izuna Sienzan, right?

What?　I don't know Ms. Sisienzang, but I know Ms. Izna!

”........................ Good.

If you dig deep enough, all you'll unearth is the brain of an idiot.

It's no use, Lilac said, closing her eyes.

But his nickname from the Colosseum is, Lilac thinks, a great name for him.

Mirabelle, who knew Izuna's giant hammer axe, would agree with that name.

So, after pausing for a moment.

Lilac said.

”He used to be called the 'Golden Hour of Explosions' in the Colosseum.”

Out of the corner of my eye.

Mirabelle was rubbing her nose and sipping.

She looks like a child - no, like a little boy.

And her response was.

”Heh, .......

”...... is that all?

”Uh, yes. Well, ......, why Bakushoku Kintoki?　I wonder...

”..................

This may not work anymore.

I wonder if I should think about it myself.

I've never doubted my own sense of style, but if I were the only one who came up with two names of my own, and they were inferior to those around me, I'd die of rage.

In this sense, the cooperation of someone with a good sense of language is indispensable,” was Lilac's conclusion.

”What?

In the first place, is this guy really a person with a good sense of language?

”Sometimes Mirabelle G. Gringott.

Yes!

......, how well did you write the lyrics for the last music festival?

What?　How much ......, uh, ...... approximately?

......, I think.

Roughly. This is a very vague answer, but I can't blame you because the question I asked was also vague.

I'm trying to think of some concrete examples.

I wasn't really interested in those sweet romantic lyrics, but I thought that the poem itself was a complete piece of work that could be thrown to the ”target” very well.

Then...

I remembered that there was a song that Futa liked the most and would play whenever pasta came around. I know it was half playing on her reaction, but it wasn't a bad lyric.

It was not a bad lyric. ...... Although it irritated me on the inside.

There's a song called ”Heart of Love, Heart of Flowers.

Oh, yes!　That's a cute one, Pasta-chan!

How much help did you get with that?

........................

”...... Mirabelle?

Mirabelle froze.

Her eyes were vacant as she froze, and Lilac, feeling uneasy, lightly poked her in the stomach.

I think it's a shame that she's dressed so shabbily with her stomach showing, but then again, her shirt and skirt are clearly not long enough, so it's a new story.

I wonder if this kind of fashion is in vogue among poets.

I wonder if this kind of fashion is popular among poets. ...... Oh, princess.

”Yes, I'm a princess. Are you all right?

Oh, yes!　I thought we made ...... pasta together, but I can't remember .......

How is that possible?

I think I was smacked!　I can't remember anything when I get hit on the head!

She's like a cheap toy.