I Will Hold Your Hand Gently

Chapter 29: Why Them Dresses?

Zwei swept his messy black hair back, revealing his weary eyes. Taking the letter from Oliver, he opened it and read its contents. After finishing, he placed the letter down and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Oliver set the additional paperwork on the desk.

"What does it say?" Oliver inquired.

Zwei sighed softly, "It's an invitation to the ball next month. Her Majesty requests the presence of that woman."

"Then preparations for the ball are in order," Oliver noted, jotting down the task in his notebook.

Zwei waved dismissively, "No need. I won't be attending."

"Are you sure about that, considering Alice invited you?" Jerold interjected from where he leaned against the door.

"Jerold," Zwei warned, his tone laced with threat.

"Sorry, I meant Her Majesty," Jerold corrected himself nonchalantly.

Zwei narrowed his eyes at Jerold. "When did you arrive?"

"Since Oliver handed you that letter," Jerold retorted with a smirk, strolling into the office and casually grabbing a handful of grapes from the table, "So, getting back to the topic. Are you seriously going to decline her invitation?"

"Whether I decline or not is my decision," said Zwei without taking his eyes off the document in his hand.

"True," said Jerold as he popped another grape into his mouth, "But knowing her majesty, she'll be sad that her little brother rejected her invitation."

Zwei paused in his writing, his hand hovering over the paperwork, "I'm not her brother, Jerold. Watch your words. You never know who might be listening."

Jerold sighed, shaking his head, "Everyone knows that Her Majesty and His Majesty treat you like a little brother. There's no use denying it, Zwei."

Ignoring Jerold's comment, Zwei resumed his focus on the paperwork before him. Seeing how Zwei wasn't budging, Jerold decided to give it another push.

"Fine, if you won't go," Jerold declared with a wave of his hand, "I'm certain the Duchess will attend."

Zwei's eyes twitched slightly, a subtle reaction that Jerold had wanted. He knew Zwei disliked large gatherings, but staying locked away in the estate wasn't healthy either, especially with the miasma slowly festering within him. Jerold couldn't quite understand it, but after their return from the Vergrumble Party, the Zwei's pale eyes had disappeared, and the miasma seemed to have subsided. Jerold had learned from the knights who accompanied Zwei that he had shared a carriage with the Duchess, which might have contributed to his recovery.

Days had passed since then, and Zwei's days were a mix of battling monsters with his Esper abilities and tending to the estate's paperwork. The miasma inside him was beginning to fester, a worrying sign that Jerold couldn't overlook. He understood the imminent danger of Zwei slipping into a Berserk State at any unpredictable moment. It was part of why Zwei adamantly refused to attend the upcoming party.

Jerold knew that there was a way to stop him from slipping into the Berserk State, which was to get guidance from a Guide. The thought of witnessing Zwei lose control filled Jerold with dread. He was determined to utilize the healing influence the Duchess seemed to have over Zwei. It was a chance Jerold intended to seize and utilize for the sake of his master. 

"Knowing the Spheral House, they wouldn't miss this chance to get to the crown," Jerold remarked, persisting in his attempt to sway Zwei, "But since you won't attend, we'll never discover their intentions."

"My lord, I believe it would be best to attend," Oliver interjected, sensing Jerold's subtle persuasion.

"I'll think about it, Oliver," Zwei responded, setting his quill pen down.