Episode 3. Gentle Rogue
The man shouted without regard for the considerable distance.
"I'm going to get back exactly what you took from me last time. Don't move until the card game starts... Huh? Who's that lady next to you?"
When the man showed interest in her, Adel glanced at Gray without thinking.
Wearing glasses with a black tint was handy in situations like this. Unless someone got very close, most people couldn't tell where her gaze was directed.
"Didn't you introduce her? This is Adel Nora, who works with me."
Mensha lightly draped his arm over Adel's shoulder and nudged her toward the balcony.
Gray's gaze, fixed on the man named Talian, dropped slightly and shifted toward Adel. As his eyes drew closer, Adel had such a thought.
'Ah, there really are people who look like this.'
Even Adel, who lived believing a person's appearance was mere skin-deep, was momentarily dazed. His eyes were especially striking; the pupils, pale as they absorbed the moonlight, resembled waves. Blue waves crashing white.
Due to the glasses' black tint, she couldn't discern the exact shade, but they were undoubtedly beautiful eyes.
Strangely, he seemed like an exquisite ice flame, which only made the beauty of his irises stand out more.
Mensha and Adel entered the balcony and took empty seats. As expected, perfunctory greetings began.
"New face, hello?"
The balcony occupants, who already seemed quite drunk, spoke casually without reservation, even to Adel, whom they were meeting for the first time.
"If you work with Mensha, are you a court clerk?"
Like others, they were intrigued by Adel's unusual aura. The difference was their unfiltered expression of it.
"But wow, what's that? Glasses? Did you steal them from a bedroom eye?"
One man pointed at Adel's glasses and twirled his fingertip. A nearby woman joined in.
"They're so dark; don't they feel stuffy? Looks like you can't see a thing."
The woman's tone held more distaste, as if she'd glimpsed something grotesque, than mere curiosity.
It had been ages since such blatant mockery. Adel swallowed a wry smile inwardly.
Her glasses were thick lenses with a subtle black tint—round glasses, as they were called. Not overly large, but the cold silver frame caught the light noticeably.
Adel responded with her usual composure.
"It's fine. I can see well."
Typically, showing no intimidation prompted them to drop it. But not this group. Clearly, they were unused to minding others.
"Why black?"
"My eyes are sensitive to light."
"Delicate, unlike your looks. The dark lenses made you seem tough."
"But it's night? No sunlight, so why not take them off?"
"The club lights are so pretty; can't you see them? What a shame."
She'd sensed it from their initial "first time seeing you." These were people perfectly suited to such attitudes.
Not to brag, but Adel was fairly well-known among mid-tier nobles. Not favorably, of course.
Black long hair, black glasses, achromatic dresses and shoes, shabby bag. This drab woman topped academy ranks and now dominated court office achievements.
At some point, male classmates irked by her appearance dubbed her uniquely.
Hey, crow.
Hey, venomous crow.
Adel ignored whatever they called her. She had far more important concerns—like the eyes behind these glasses.
As long as she hid these eyes that must never be seen, any glasses-inspired nickname was irrelevant.
Not the ordinary red irises of the real Adel Nora, but the fake Adel living her life—as long as her unusual pink irises stayed concealed.
Even now, aside from brighter clothes, her hair, shoes, and glasses screamed "Crow Adel." Yet the balcony heirs acted oblivious to academy matters. To tradition-bound private tutors, it was for middling noble brats.
Adel pondered defending her glasses from this rude lot. Mensha intervened first.
"Why be so mean? Light allergy triggers on any light. Day or night."
"Light allergy? That real?"
"Yeah. Unless you want her carted off after glasses removal, ease up."
"So Mensha, you've never seen this lady's bare eyes?"
"Of course not."
"Wow, no way."
Everyone looked stunned.
She hadn't anticipated such chivalry.... Worried she'd put Mensha in a spot, Adel glanced at him. He smiled reassuringly.
"Adel's eyes are precious—no ogling. Not before I do."
"Hahaha. Quite the knightly vow."
Mensha's deft handling defused the tension.
A waitress delivered cocktails to the newcomers and departed. Talk shifted to Mensha.
"This playboy drags a different girlfriend each time."
"Nonsense. When did I?"
"You brought Grace the other day."
"Grace being a girl is the shock. Tomboy pal since childhood."
Mensha shrugged, answering earnestly. Protecting Adel from teasing friends in his way. The drunks obliged nicely.
"Grace? Where do you find pretty tomboys?"
"Back hill."
"Whoa. Sounds loaded."
"You're nuts."
"My place has a hill too; why no pretty tomboy?"
"Not the hill—it's the owner's son."
"Hahahaha."
They bantered freely. Adel finally escaped scrutiny for her thoughts. Precisely: how to approach Gray.
She eyed her target discreetly. Gray observed friends pityingly, uninvolved.
His detached demeanor persisted. Yet Adel sensed the balcony's vibe orbited him. His central seat said it—even chatter swirled around him.
Hmm, anyway—time to speak.
Adel selected a careful opener for Gray, planning straight to business. The vibe suggested scant time from him.
Suddenly, Gray turned, met her eyes, and smiled. Muted yet radiant.
"Hello, Adel?"
Low voice, too soft for others.
"H-Hello. Gray-nim."
Startled, Adel faltered slightly. Her face stayed impassive, though—like greeting an acquaintance.
Her honed skill: no facial tells, ever.
Gray stared at her calm visage, smiled again.
"Pretty glasses?"
"Thank you."
Rarely complimented on looks, rarer still her glasses. Unfamiliar, but no fumbling now. Opportunity. Speak.
"Um, Gray-nim. Recently, the op... ."
"They suit you. White face, black hair. Though prettier without, probably."
"......Pardon?"
"Eyesight that bad? Lashes and irises seem pretty; shame."
Burdened by his lingering, candid gaze—chin on pale hand.
"Saw many such glasses in Hallock. Silver frames new, though. Gold would suit too. Not that silver doesn't—makes you look intellectual."
Speechless, Adel shut her mouth. Aide topic bypassed. Friends jumped in.
"True. Hahaha. Glasses are cool. Stylish."
"Silver suits you, I thought earlier. Adel."
Earlier forgetting her name—"lady"—now, hearing Gray's "Adel," they cooed it warmly. Polite, even.
The mocker treating glasses grotesquely piled on.
"Intellectual, yes. Where to get them? Pale like you—silver for me?"
Adel glanced at Gray. He gazed back steadily.
Those bored eyes—smiling somehow? Imagination?
Gentleness-masked, cold. Indifferent. Yet Adel sensed intrigued observation of her reactions. Tested.
As Gray and Adel fell silent, friends quit forced cheers.
Moments later, Gray's gaze shifted to friends. They resumed vapid chatter.
