My Wife Waited in the Wheat Fields

PR: Ford53 & Alive Sigh

Of all the buildings in the royal castle, the Great Hall was undoubtedly the most massive and most ornate.

Its grandeur could be described as second only to the Sun Palace, where the King and Queen resided and ruled over the direction of the kingdom.

Whether it was for the event or if it was always like this, the grand banquet hall had a long, red carpet laid out all the way to the entrance. Nearby, there were carriages adorned with various splendid decorations.

Elric also spotted a group of disparately dressed people among the nobles.

‘Journalists.’

Most were snapping pictures, maneuvering heavy cameras every which way.

The nobles seemed to be aware of them, as they made their gaits more regal and pompous.

It was all a farce.

“Milord, the reporters can see us, could you please straighten your back?”

Tyria was currently by his side.

She was the only reason he had attended this banquet because he couldn’t let her be alone.

It would be a shame for him to be distracted and forget his duties then.

“I understand.”

With that, Elric straightened his posture.

It might have looked a little ungainly with his cane, but it was the best way for him to walk.

He shook off his thoughts.

‘I’ll just see if they were right when we get to the banquet.’ (E/N: He’s talking about the Moonlings.)

There was no point in worrying about things already.

Ta-da~!

The orchestra was playing a soothing tune as they entered the banquet hall.

The nobles who had arrived earlier were gathered in small groups, chatting, and the royal servants were scurrying about.

It was a familiar yet uncomfortable sense of deja vu.

Especially because of the eyes of the nobles, which moved and examined them as soon as they entered.

His acute sense of hearing picked up every word they said.

”Ah, so that’s the rumored Baron Portman.”

“How fitting it is that he should return at this time after being away for ten years…”

“Maybe it’s because he’s from a peasant background that he thinks so little of his actions. He probably thinks that once he’s knighted, the world will become his oyster.”

It was a predictable reaction.

They loved to gossip about other people, so there was no way his little backstory would have gone unnoticed.

There was no reason or entitlement for him to be angry at them, and so Elric shrugged it off.

Tyria took that moment to lead him to a seat in the far corner of the ballroom.

“Please have a seat, you’ve walked a long way up the stairs.”

“What about stairs? I climb stairs all the time, even in the manor.”

“But they’re unfamiliar stairs.”

Whether she was aware of how stupid her evaluation was or not, there wasn’t even a hint of an expression change on her face.

He was sure that she must have noticed their words.

“What a pity it is for the lady. If that man hadn’t come back, the inheritance would have been all hers.”

He flinched, his grip on his staff trembling.

Elric’s gaze shifted between the gossipers before him.

All were middle-aged women, their faces all wrinkled.

They were like cockroaches, especially with how all of them looked away the moment he looked at them.

And then,

‘This presence is…’

Elric spotted a familiar face in the crowd.

-”Ah, come to think of it, this is the first time we’ve seen you on our estate…” (TL/N: Flashback to previous chapter where they met.)

It was Baroness Wyvern. He turned around quickly and broke out in a cold sweat.

She was Tyria’s mother, and one of Elric’s former adversaries.

He thought that she’d given up on the Portman inheritance because she’d been so quiet, but had she been working behind the scenes all this time?

‘What should I do…?’

Should I try to repair our relationship for the future?

No, it would be a mistake to move quickly.

As he was thinking about that, Tyria spoke up.

“Milord, do you have any concerns?”

“…Ah, hmm?”

“You don’t look too well.”

They were sitting close to the terrace.

The fading light of the setting sun washed over Tyria’s face, and for some reason, he could see a hint of emotion on her expressionless face.

Worry, perhaps.

Elric forced a smile.

“No, no. I’m just not comfortable in this position.”

“No wonder, you’ve never been to a noble’s banquet before. We won’t be here for long, so bear with me.”

“I understand.”

“The ball will begin in earnest after His Majesty enters, and I’m sure they won’t mind if I excuse you then.”

Tyria seemed ready to leave as well.

He suddenly felt a pang of regret.

A strange sentiment that arose in him after realizing that he wouldn’t be able to look at her all dressed up anymore.

How surprised he had been when he first saw her.

It was actually embarrassing, because he had a hard time taking his eyes off of her, even though his mind was full of worries about the Moonlings.

He had thought that he’d gotten used to her by now.

‘Ah, at least this is familiar.’

The image of her daintily scarfing down the refreshments on the table was soon etched into his retinas.

Elric let out a low chuckle, his worries seeming to fade away as he watched her.

At the sound of his laughter, Tyria looked at him curiously and asked.

“…Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing. It’s just that I’ve never seen you eat anything like this before.”

“The royal patissier is renowned for his skill in all of the East. Why don’t you try it?”

“Well, then, where should I….”

He took a bite of a biscuit, and indeed, it had a distinctive, luxurious flavor that he could only have tasted at an imperial banquet.

“It’s delicious.”

“Isn’t it?”

So this was her taste in food.

His stomach tickled at the thought of learning another thing about her.

Staring at her endlessly became a very important task to him, as if it held a significant duty.

Once he was at ease, he spoke a little.

Thus, Elric sat in a corner of the ballroom with Tyria, and they started chatting privately.

They passed the time this way.

Before long, the crowd grew larger and larger, and a gentle commotion began to fill the air.

The lords of the great houses had arrived.

“It looks like Duke Borun has arrived.”

“I hear he hasn’t been feeling well…”

“Are you keeping an eye on Marquis Yaran? Is he the only one though? What about Count Nimrud as well?”

Soon enough, information about various people began to come in from all directions,

And some of them had unpleasant connotations in his mind.

Count Nimrud.

As soon as he recalled the meaning behind the name, his thoughts immediately went to the Moonling’s words that he had been putting off.

Elric’s brow narrowed.

-“T-This was an explicit order from headquarters. Someone who they want dead is moving into the East… T-That was a month ago! Yes! It hasn’t even been a month since we came to the east! It’s true!”

It was Count Nimrud who had met with the ones who had come here for the mission.

With his support, they’d been able to stabilize themselves here, and he was also the one that connected them to the main body.

Count Nimrud was also the only one here who was in direct contact with that man.

-“You can find out everything if you just attend the banquet! We received information that the target will be attending the event, and that we’re just here to kill you as a side mission… Ah! N-No, of course! You’re not one of our targets, Sir! Yes, yes!”

-“Now that that’s settled, tell me who the target is.”

-“We don’t know. All we know is that the person is a foreign figure and that the assassination difficulty request was set to D-rank…”

-“You don’t even know who you’re assassinating?”

-“Those were the exact orders from the top…”

The more he thought about it, the more it didn’t make sense.

Why were the Moonlings here when they should only be operating in the West, and what was this Count Nimrud trying to do in collaboration with that man?

His thoughts spiraled further and further down the rabbit hole.

“Ah, have you heard the news?”

”What news?”

“A nobleman from the Empire is attending tonight’s banquet, and I hear that he’s a very important…. figure.”

Elric’s senses expanded greatly in that moment, allowing him to hear all their voices.

“Ma’am, ma’am! The Imperial nobleman has arrived. He is on his way here now…”

“Oh, really? Where is my husband? We need to quickly get near him and at least make an impression on him…”

Swing–

At the sound of the gates opening, Elric’s gaze shifted to the entrance of the ballroom.

It was at that moment.

Dun- dun- dun- dun!

The orchestra changed its tune.

This was a phenomenon that had only occurred when the heads of powerful families had entered before.

But the powerful families had already arrived.

There were a few puzzled looks, but when the reason was revealed, surprise washed over all their faces.

“The emissary from the Empire is entering!”

A voice called out, and the door swung open.

Elric’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of the noble through the gap.

‘…Ah.’

Everything suddenly made sense.

The reason for the Moonling’s presence here, the purpose of the man behind them, what Count Nimrud was after. All of the causal threads had come together as he noticed the identity of the man who came through the gates.

That wheelchair, that platinum hair, and that mischievous grin…

Everything about him was the same as the silhouette of the man in Elric’s memory.

“Elvus Grayman, the third son of Duke Grayman, has entered!”

Dun- dun- dun- dun!

It was Elvus Grayman.

Elrics old friend, and the bane of the Empire’s existence.

The man who should never have been here “strode” into the silent ballroom.

Some were horrified, some were amazed, and some were in awe.

His innate beauty alone changed the entire atmosphere of the place.

The very air in the room began to reorganize itself around him.

The man exuded an aura that couldn’t be hidden, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

Hence, he was always in no man’s land.

He appeared, dominating the space, as he leisurely swept his gaze across the room,

“Oh.”

Upon spotting Elric, he smiled widely.

It was a cheerful smile.

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