Petals danced in the wind, tossed out by women standing on the balcony buildings, while men paraded around with giant banners that celebrated the safe return of Count Nightfall. While Dia had seen scenes like this in her studies, they were usually reserved for people who returned from war victorious, not for…well, a war that didn’t actually materialise.

From their vantage point, they could see everything, and the more Dia saw, the more disturbed she felt. For some reason, there was something off.

“No matter how I look at this scene,” Farah muttered, “I get the feeling that something’s off, and I think I actually know why.”

Caroline buried her face in her hands at those words, while Risti patted her on the shoulder. “There, there.”

“I also feel that something’s off,” said Schwarz, “but what exactly is it?”

Dia glanced at Farah, who shrugged back. After communicating with glances and gestures for around three seconds, Dia, who had lost a round of rock-paper-scissors, cleared her throat. “Well, scenes like these are reserved for victorious armies returning from the frontline. You probably feel odd because there actually wasn’t a frontline whatsoever, so you’re not sure what they’re actually celebrating.”

“Oh.” Schwarz rubbed his nose. “Yes, indeed. All these banners that read ‘Welcome back’ or a similar variant feel a bit perfunctory, now that I think about it. Count Nightfall didn’t really suffer out there, so…”

“Right?” Dia folded her arms. “Still, what possessed these people to actually come up with something like this? It’s not like Nightfall actually did anything, since there wasn’t even a war.”

“There’s always a fanatic for everyone, which means that any occasion is a good occasion for them,” Schwarz replied. “Look. I think these two men are Nightfall lookalikes. How impressive. I swear, these people never existed before…where did they pick this up from?”

Caroline let out a little whimper, and everyone else laughed. Nero, in particular, was guffawing so loudly that people were staring daggers at him, but as a tetra-folder, he wasn’t going to care about the opinions of just about anyone.

Except for his alcohol supplier, probably.

Without warning, someone hollered, “The count’s coming!”

The crowd began to bubble and froth. Even from up high, Dia could spot activity and movement from all over the place, and two sonorous sentences whirled around the whole of Licencia.

“Banners up and high! Wave those babies around, soldiers!”

“He’s coming back! Everyone, positions! Prepare your petals! Take out your clothes!”

Dia stared at the two groups. The men had broken out into an utterly embarrassing dance, while the women were pulling out odd clothes. The rest of the crowd had started to line up the Nightfall lookalikes, and the stalls closest to the city gates were frying things in their pans, sending blazing fires up.

Music blared, a triumphant anthem that hammered Dia’s ears, and Caroline, who had looked up at the first shout, grew increasingly mortified. In fact, the entire getup had stopped her — and everyone else — from actually going down to enjoy the food there, which was the original premise of their trip out, due to her sheer shame. Instead, she had brought them to Nightfall Palace’s highest tower for both the view and in a futile attempt to distract herself.

Dia could understand where she was coming from, and by Schwarz’s expressions, he probably could too, but for Farah and Risti…

Heh.

Wiping off a bead of imaginary sweat, Dia focused her attention on the approaching convoy, hoping to capture a few dismayed and embarrassed gazes by the count. Schwarz was doing the same thing too, while Farah and Risti had taken out notebooks to scribble in them.

As for what they were scribbling about, Dia didn’t want to know.

At all.

Her hunch informed her that she wouldn’t be sleeping well tonight if she actually found out the answer. Ignorance was bliss, as a rule of thumb, and rather than worrying over an overly-glamorous welcome ceremony if she was ever acquitted of whatever crimes she had been assumed guilty of, Dia would infinitely prefer it if she could be acquitted in the first place.

Heck, if that ever happened, Dia had a feeling that she could look past whatever embarrassingly prominent stunt those two just dreamt up.

The marching music grew to a crescendo as the convoy stepped through the gate, and the people began to cheer. In silent coordination, people started to wave their hands up and down rhythmically, turning the sides of Nightfall’s planned route in a human sea of sorts, with waves of hands going up and down.

Petals began to fall in earnest as the convoy entered the city, producing a rhythmic chant.

“Nightfall! Nightfall! Nightfall! You shield us from the ravages of sunlight! You confer the blessings of rest! You…”

The ridiculous chant, which ascribed all sorts of feats that Dia felt that only the Coloured Gods could have done, continued on and on as the procession carried on through the streets. By now, Count Nightfall had brushed off his fifth head of flowers — albeit stylishly — while his personal troops had no such luxury. They had been swamped with so many flowers that some of them had slipped into the chinks in their armour, and as the song continued on to mythical proportions that could rival the Third Godsfall, Dia swore that she could see Count Nightfall’s face twist in fear for a moment.

“This is utterly embarrassing,” Caroline muttered, crouching over and covering her face. “Aran is bloody amazing. How is he not curling up yet?”

“Truly a question for the ages, yes.” Dia made a mental note to see if he trained his mental fortitude, and if so, how. It would probably serve her purposes very well and all that.

Caroline took a deep breath. “I’m going down to meet him.”

“We’ll stay here,” Schwarz immediately replied. “It’s your reunion. We’ll chill up here and laugh at your embarrassing little antics. Claud and Lily fled before we could observe the ways of a couple, but you two…heh.”

“…I’ll get the servants to bring out some good wine for you guys to enjoy in the dining room, so please follow me.”

“Now you’re talking. But the only ones who will be really tempted by wine is me and Nero, so…”

“There’s a feast that’s prepared. I’ll get them to bring out the appetisers.”

A wicked grin popped up on Schwarz’s face. “Come on, let’s give the two lovebirds some privacy later…but there’s like an entire army following you two. Not sure what to think of that.”

“Oh, they’re just potatoes and tomatoes.”

“Vegetables?” Farah shook her head. “What, is that your way of dealing with stage fright? How cute.”

“Never mind. Just wait here, okay?” Caroline leapt over the ledge and bounded down the windows, step by step. Within moments, she had landed on the ground, and started to arrange her silky dress.

“What the—”

“That was fast…and she didn’t even lead us to the dining room.” Risti tilted her head. “Maybe she’s decided to treat us as vegetables too.”

“That wine must have been really expensive,” Nero muttered. “To think that she decided to let us watch her make out and what not instead.”

“Maybe she’s going to rein in her affection?” Schwarz suggested. “I mean, there is an army over there. There’s only so many vegetables she can replace them with.”

Their eyes followed Caroline as she walked slowly over to the open gates, where Count Nightfall just appeared at. Cheers broke out from the soldiers assembled behind him as she took his offered hand. Escorting his fiancée to the palace, the army behind them dispersed as the couple entered Nightfall Palace proper.

“Bah.” Schwarz folded his arms. “Those two must be displaying their affection inside the palace now. Shame. I was hoping to observe this particular bit. Bartenders and couples are kinda in a complementary distribution, but many, many bachelors seek me out for romance advice.”

“You?” Farah laughed. “Nice joke.”

“Right?” Schwarz shook his head. “If I could observe Count Nightfall in his natural habitat, I might be able to come up with some solutions for those poor fellows. For instance, manners, mindset, morals…I’m sure there’s a few more words I could give them.”

“You’re really dedicated to your job, aren’t you?” Farah eyed him. “Well, if you ever want a…”

She didn’t continue her sentence. Nero hadn’t been informed of her actual situation yet, although he had probably made a few guesses, and Dia knew that the others had been urging her to tell the truth eventually.

Farah was making it a big deal for some reason, though, something that Dia couldn’t quite understand. She could just drop it casually or something; heck, Nero already knew that Risti was the daughter of the Folders’ Association President.

After making a point to poke her nose into the matter, Count Nightfall emerged from the tower, his hand in Caroline’s.

“Moon Lords, thank you for looking after my fiancée and this city.” He bowed once. “Your aid is highly appreciated. I will not begrudge my rewards. Come. Follow me. We’ll have a feast, and then I’ll let you pick out an item from my vault.”

“Vault?”

Everyone gulped.