When Egrer walked out of the ballroom with Weiss, a very important thought was spinning in his head. Very important.
So important that all his brain's resources were spent pondering it.
'Does a nighttime stroll through the garden count as a date?'
No less than his future life depended on the answer to this question. Something told Egrer that right now he was standing at a crucial crossroad of his own destiny, and he'd better answer this question correctly. Because if he made a mistake, he'd wander into a dense thicket forever.
Weiss seemed to be thinking about something similar. Otherwise, she wouldn't be walking next to him looking like she couldn't care less. Egrer had long since learned to distinguish when she was genuinely indifferent and when she was just putting on a mask to hide her true emotions.
Come to think of it, the decision to take a walk with her was overly hasty. Egrer had just wanted to stretch his legs and genuinely had no ulterior motives. He didn't suspect that this simple desire would become the pebble that started the landslide.
The bright light of the shattered moon only made things worse. The flowers arranged in neat flowerbeds along the path were intimidating. The chirping of crickets and flying fireflies created a unique light show for this place. The atmosphere was way too romantic. The mere fact that the two of them went out somewhere at night already forced him to come up with an excuse for any random witness.
Because they would definitely be misunderstood.
And their dance together, the bunch of punch drunk out of nervousness, and the recent heart-to-heart conversation played their part too. Such variables forced even them to overthink the situation.
But at the same time, Egrer felt an extraordinary sense of freedom. He wanted to square his shoulders, take a deep breath, and howl at the moon. Just because he could.
Right now, he was truly happy.
Weiss was the first to come to some conclusions. It was clear from her gaze, which abruptly became more focused.
"Still, I didn't go to the ball for nothing."
"You say that as if you just wanted to sit it out in your room."
"I did," she nodded. "Neptune's rejection hurt me quite a bit, but Yang cheered me up. She said that someone would definitely ask me to dance. Funny enough, I didn't realize she meant you back then."
For a while, they continued walking in silence.
In reality, the romance of night walks is pretty exaggerated. From the outside, it might seem like something magical, but it's actually very inconvenient when your friend can barely see the path under her feet.
If Egrer hadn't been a Faunus on top of that, they both would've just tripped on some protruding rock or messed up their hair on a branch.
It was also cold. The Unspoken Gentleman's Code demanded that he offer Weiss his jacket, since she must be much colder in a light dress, especially one with an open back... However, he was afraid of looking stupid. What if she got the wrong idea? What if she mistook an attempt to just help as courting?
What if Weiss decides he likes her?!
Or what if she outright refuses?
So Egrer stoically ignored her goosebump-covered shoulders and a sudden sneeze. He wouldn't lift a finger until she asked herself. If she needed it, let her say so!
Weiss glared in his direction. Egrer pretended to examine the moon. Weiss hugged her shoulders. Egrer got distracted just in time by a passing firefly.
"It's rather cold today," Weiss said with barely contained irritation.
"Yeah," Egrer replied in a single syllable. "A little bit. Wanna sit down?"
"I fear that stopping for even a minute will mean death by hypothermia for me."
He wondered if that phrase could be considered a thick enough hint. The main thing was that Weiss shouldn't doubt for a second that it was at her request that he gave up his jacket. Because if she thought it was his own initiative, who knows what else she'd think later?
Hints are a woman's main weapon. If you do everything right, you supposedly did it of your own free will, and if you screw up somewhere, well, no one asked you to!
The only thing a man can do to counter it is play dumb. If you didn't understand what was required of you, it's not your fault. Wordly wisdom states - a task is executed exactly as it's assigned. Nobody has come up with a more effective tactic yet, even though, you'd think, civilization wasn't born yesterday, and there was plenty of time.
On the other hand, Egrer could understand Weiss. Her pride wouldn't allow her to stoop down to mortals over a banality like the cold, so she had to improvise.
"You refuse to notice hints out of principle, don't you?" Weiss deduced.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Egrer continued acting according to the only stratagem he knew. He was still pondering whether the hint was thick enough or not... In the end, he decided. "If you're cold, we can head back to the hall..."
"You are making me angry."
"...Or I can give you my jacket," Egrer continued with a devious smile. "Depends on your choice."
It was a perfectly calibrated trap. If Weiss agreed to go back, she'd look stupid, since she was the one who started this walk. And if she chose the jacket, she'd have to say it directly, which would mean her defeat.
But instead, Weiss sighed. It wasn't the irritated or tired sigh Egrer expected to hear, but a disappointed one. He even felt kind of ashamed.
"Please, Eg, let's skip the usual banter for now, at least."
Egrer blushed and handed her his jacket. His skin instantly broke out in goosebumps.
"Thank you."
The victory in this standoff belonged to her, because she still hadn't asked for the jacket directly. And even though Weiss honestly tried to hide her triumphant smile, she was barely managing.
'The cunning of women in all its glory!' Egrer thought, feeling slighted both because he fell for her trick and because her request to drop the teasing was nothing but cold calculation. It was simply dishonorable to ask for that and essentially deceive him.
Maybe he really did want to drop their usual snark and talk normally for once... Without all this farce, which had turned from a good tradition into an aggravating obligation. Rarely did their recent encounters go without a couple of verbal skirmishes.
They'd happened with regular frequency before, but recently they had become... harsher, more ruthless, and somehow even rude. Ever since the talk about the ball started and, instigated by Yang, all of Beacon started shipping Weiss and Egrer.
Perhaps they were taking their anger out on the world this way, or just trying to show everyone that there was nothing between them. Being exactly like Nora when someone jokingly hints that she and Ren aren't just together, but together-together. A pathetic sight, but amusing in its own way.
Their bickering must have looked just as funny...
"Not cold anymore?" Egrer asked.
"No. Except maybe my legs, a little."
"I'm not taking off my pants," he immediately cut her off. Still, one must know boundaries, and in the Unspoken Gentleman's Code, that would probably be considered harassment. Furthermore, on her part...
"I wasn't asking!"
"But that was a hint like with the jacket, right? I just made it clear right away that you don't even need to try here."
"I only said that my legs were cold!" Weiss hissed. "I neither asked nor hinted for you to give me your pants! You asked a question, and I answered."
Egrer tiredly rubbed his forehead.
Women... only the God of Darkness knows when they're hinting, and when they're just saying whatever comes to mind.
Eventually, they walked all the way through the garden and came out onto the main road of Beacon. The streetlights ran in a straight line from the Bullhead landing pads to the Headmaster's tower, illuminating the surroundings and the red faces of the two students.
"Looks like someone got overly filled with the romantic atmosphere," Egrer joked.
"You're no better," Weiss replied.
Grumbling under her breath, she walked to the nearest bench and sat on it with her feet up, pulling her knees to her chest and covering herself with the jacket.
"If it's that cold, maybe we really should go back?"
"I don't want to."
Egrer was left with nothing to do but scratch the back of his head and sit next to her. Right behind them stood a lamppost, and being under the reddish beam of light felt slightly warmer. Though, most likely, he was just imagining it.
"Are we..." Egrer drawled uncertainly, "just gonna sit here?"
"In a hurry somewhere?"
"Not really. But by midnight I need to be back on stage to give a speech on the importance of bringing back the music club."
"I see," Weiss said, looking into the darkness of the garden in front of her. "Do you think many people will be moved by it?"
"You bet. After tonight, everyone's gonna wanna participate in something like this. Besides, did you see how many musicians there were? Most of them might be singing on sheer enthusiasm, but the main thing is their passion for music."
"Tell me, Eg, why do you sing?" Weiss asked unexpectedly. "What fuels your passion?"
Egrer was about to reply that it was for fame, so that as many people as possible would hear and know about him, but he caught himself mid-sentence and pondered the question harder. Did that really fuel his passion for music? Is that truly why he sang? To feed the beast that had settled inside the moment Egrer tasted the sweetness of an applauding crowd?
Suddenly, the realization crept up on him that the audience was merely a means, not the end. This realization was a real punch to the gut.
For a second, he even felt scared. He felt disoriented and lost, as if the lamppost above them had abruptly gone out and his eyes had forgotten how to see in the dark.
"I... Honestly, I never thought about it. But why don't you sing?" Egrer deflected. "You have a beautiful voice; it's a sin not to use it."
"Because I do not enjoy it. Perhaps, if my father hadn't forced me to sing, I would have grown to love the activity, but it is what it is. Music has always been a job for me. Father wanted me to impress his guests and sparkle on stage, which is what I did, merely feigning enthusiasm."
"Got it. Being forced to do a job really kills any desire to do it."
"I believe everyone should find some form of self-expression for themselves," Weiss continued, looking straight ahead. "It doesn't matter what it is; the specifics are irrelevant. The main thing is having the ability to manifest your thoughts in the real world, rather than keeping them bottled up inside until death."
"Do you have an outlet like that? Since you don't like singing."
She turned away. Although Egrer couldn't see her face, he saw how red her ears had gotten.
"Well... I've always been drawn to painting."
"Wait, you paint?"
"A little," Weiss nodded slowly. She looked around, as if searching for someone in the night, and then whispered. "Would you like to see?"
"You bet!"
"I took a photograph of every painting I've done." She took out her Scroll and opened the gallery. Egrer scooted closer to get a better look at her creations.
The first photo showed a canvas with a window frame painted on it and the view from that very window. Judging by the landscape, it was late spring in Atlas then; the snow had just begun to melt. The slightly careless brushstrokes strayed outside the lines in many places, making the landscape seem blurry, and some details clearly overlapped each other.
"My first serious work," Weiss said proudly. "I remember it like it was yesterday—I was inspired by Ryuji's painting and wanted to paint something myself. However, I possessed absolutely no skills, and Father refused to hire a tutor for me. He wanted me to study singing, so I had to paint by myself during the breaks between lessons. Only after a year of hesitant scribbles on paper did I dare to move on to canvas and paints."
"If your dad was against it, how did he let you buy all this?" Egrer pointed at the canvas and the easel.
"He simply didn't want me to waste study time on it, which could be spent on 'Useful' pursuits. In general, he couldn't care less about what I did during breaks or at night."
Weiss swiped her finger to the left, showing the next photo.
Egrer listened with interest to all the stories that had become the reason to paint this or that event. Whether it was an image of a sad dog on the street, a glued-together vase, or even a scratch on a desk.
Indeed, if you paid attention not only to the artwork itself, but also to the process and the reasons for its creation, entirely new facets opened up in any piece of art. Previously hidden details became visible, and what was already seen acquired new meanings.
If you threw away everything behind these paintings, almost nothing would be left of them. Just a combination of paints on a canvas that together form an image. Merely a beautiful shell, looking at which you could only praise the skillful execution. And that was it.
If you think about it, this applies to all art in general. The substance is what matters. At the core, there is always some idea, thought, or philosophy, and only then does the creator decide what wrapper to put it in.
A brisk electric guitar paired with lyrics that tolerate no half-measures? Why not.
A calm piano with an equally calm and quiet song? That works too.
Sculpture, poem, painting—some mediums are better suited for certain thoughts, some for others, but there are no rules. With enough effort, any difference in the delivery method disappears, leaving only the Meaning.
"Over time, I realized that I prefer painting portraits," Weiss said, as a photograph of a painting with a face appeared on her Scroll for the first time.
The strict look of the Atlas military uniform, but at the same time a soft smile; the firm posture of a soldier, but warmth in her gaze. Reliability—that was what you felt looking at this woman. And judging by the family traits of all Schnees—white hair and blue eyes—it immediately became clear that this was someone from her family. Winter, as Weiss explained, her older sister.
"Around this time, my own style began to emerge."
And it was noticeable. Her paintings were very warm and bright, even if the people in them weren't prone to such tones at all. And another important detail—everyone she painted was smiling.
Her father, Jacques Schnee, was happy in every painting. Her mother smiled, hugging her daughters and son. Her sister and brother were never without smiles either.
If you didn't know about the deplorable situation in her family, you might even think that their home was a true idyll. But Egrer knew firsthand that Weiss's father was a manipulative tyrant, her mother had drunk herself into a stupor long ago and couldn't care less about her children, her older sister had left home in a scandal, and her younger brother was following in their father's footsteps.
Perhaps those kind smiles were exactly what Weiss lacked in life. So she transferred her desire onto the canvas.
Egrer actually felt sad because of this. She painted the world the way it could never be. She completely immersed herself in her own happy little world, only to return to harsh reality after the painting was finished. Looking at those smiling faces, Egrer didn't want to smile himself; he wanted to cry.
There it was—understanding the context, understanding the thoughts that swarmed in the creator's head during their work. To different people, these paintings would look completely different.
"Here begin the works I did at Beacon. I created them using an editor on my Scroll, because... well..."
"Because you were embarrassed to drag paints and canvases into the dorm and start painting in front of everyone," Egrer nodded understandingly. "When I first got into music, I hid from everyone too."
"Not quite. Anyway, their quality isn't great. It took about a month to get used to the interface and get the hang of it."
Weiss quickly scrolled through the gallery, skipping the first and most unsuccessful works. Egrer caught glimpses of all her acquaintances, starting with her own team, ending even with Cardin, who was giving flowers to a rabbit Faunus...
"Wait. Scroll back."
Egrer hadn't imagined it. Weiss had actually drawn a flustered Cardin giving flowers to the girl who used to be the victim of his bullying. At his mute question and baffled expression, she merely laughed.
"I love mocking reality, what can I say. Why should I draw our world as it is, when it's in my power to make it better, at least on a digital canvas?" she scoffed, continuing to scroll through the gallery. "I drew this one when Blake ran away."
Team RWBY was going about their daily routines in their room. Ruby was scribbling something in a notebook, Yang was lounging on the bed with headphones, Blake was sitting on the windowsill reading a book, and Weiss herself was primping in front of the mirror. Only the four of them were depicted in detail, while the room itself was the pinnacle of artistic minimalism.
If you recalled that back then Weiss wasn't getting along with her team at all, and after Blake's runaway had completely fallen out with them, this painting acquired true Meaning. It wasn't just a picture of a happy team of young Huntresses; it was a reflection of what Weiss lacked and desired most. That's why she paid almost no attention to the interior, giving it just a few strokes of the digital brush.
"You know, I was terrified that my team would fall apart," Weiss whispered, wrapping his jacket tighter around herself. "I couldn't fall asleep at all, so I made this drawing in one night. And this one I drew when you confessed that you're a Faunus. I couldn't sleep then, either."
The picture showed none other than Jacques Schnee himself, affectionately ruffling Egrer's hair. This was an even more sophisticated mockery of reality than Cardin courting that rabbit Faunus, but that was exactly the reality Weiss wanted. For the Faunus to stop hating her and her family, and for Jacques to cease the ruthless policies of his company.
That was the purpose of her art. To show the reality she wanted to see. Egrer even felt a bit ashamed that, to her question "Why do you sing?", he wanted to answer "Fame". As banal as that answer was, it was equally vile at its core.
It was not the answer of a true creator.
If you think about it, what does it matter how successful you are? Can infinitely increasing your audience really be the goal of art? What is its purpose anyway?
Looking at Weiss, he understood her goal was to temporarily distract herself from reality. To show the world the way she wants to see it. Happy, joyful, and bright.
And that was beautiful.
But why did he play music and sing songs? Was it really just to be heard? Why did he even need to be heard? Maybe he thought he could share some of his thoughts with the world, but looking back, he clearly understood that wasn't the point. That wasn't why he picked up his guitar and trained his voice every single day.
He just liked creating music.
And that was the whole reason.
There were no deep ideas, no thoughts, no philosophy. Only the all-consuming desire to create. That passion for music was the center of his art, and only then did he wrap his passion in a suitable wrapper. For him, the meaning was secondary, and the act of creation itself was primary.
But was such art worthy of being called Art? Egrer couldn't provide an answer.
"You know," Weiss began, as she showed him the last painting, "it's a pointless endeavor, really. You can make a landscape or portrait with a swipe of a finger on a Scroll."
"What's the difference what you can do with a Scroll? The main thing is self-expression. Draw what you like and screw everything else."
"That sounds very strange coming from you, you know. Literally half an hour ago, you were practically crying in horror realizing that neural networks would take your music away," Weiss reminded him, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
"It's just that I only now realized you should create art not for fame, popularity, or some kind of innovation, but just for yourself. Gimme a sec."
Weiss opened the jacket, and Egrer pulled his notebook out of the inner pocket. Taking the pencil bookmark in hand, he ruthlessly crossed out the word "FAME," which flaunted at the top of his list of goals, and replaced it with "PLEASURE".
"Thanks for helping me figure that out."
"You don't need any reasons to create art," Weiss smiled. "It is both the cause and the effect in itself. Have you realized why you sing now?"
"Yeah, I just like doing it. This feeling... how do I put it... when scattered thoughts in your head line up, when a hazy idea takes on a polished form, when you pour your very soul into the music... it's thrilling. Besides, music became a part of me a long time ago. I can't imagine myself without it. Like, at all."
This pleasant feeling, as if everything had finally fallen into place, warmed him inside. It seemed the stars shone brighter at this moment, and the shattered moon began to resemble a smiling face. The large crescent piece on the side—lips, several small ones—a nose and eyes.
Egrer even forgot he was sitting on a bench on a cold night in nothing but a shirt.
"You know, I haven't shown my paintings to anyone else," Weiss confessed, shrinking her head into her shoulders. Her red face was half-hidden under the jacket, and it was unlikely that a single living soul in all of Remnant had had the honor of seeing her so flustered. "So don't tell anyone I draw, understood?"
"Embarrassed?" Egrer smiled harmlessly. "No reason to be. I'm sure your team will be thrilled when they find out you drew them. I'm personally thrilled."
"It's too personal. I feel much calmer drawing for myself without attracting any attention. If I start showing my paintings to others, I'll definitely start asking myself, 'What will they think?' The exact moment I do, my art will cease to be mine."
That made sense; even Illmond said that creators were slaves to others' expectations. And if no one but you knew about your hobby, then you were truly free from the opinions of others. There was only you and the art. The rest was absolutely irrelevant.
And since Weiss shared her secret with Egrer, it was nothing short of an expression of the highest trust. She tied her art to him. Her soul.
It even got a bit awkward, since he didn't have a personal secret of that caliber to reply in kind.
"Thanks for trusting me." That was all he could say.
"It's a little awkward sharing this. I feel naked."
"Well, we're friends, it's normal to tell each other secrets. You know, some people have few friends because they don't want to share anything intimate with anyone. And it's not even about shared secrets bringing people closer. It's just that if you keep to yourself and don't tell anyone about yourself, how are people supposed to know how much you have in common? What do you talk about with someone you know nothing about, and who refuses to get acquainted?"
"Well, that's me. At least the me that just arrived at Beacon."
"Oh yeah, you were quite the prickly one," Egrer laughed, recalling the first days of their acquaintance. "Not that much has changed over time, we just managed to find an approach to you."
"For your information, I've become much friendlier," Weiss said confidently, poking her head out of the jacket. "It's just that before this, I didn't have many friends, and even they weren't really friends, but rather acquaintances. We had fun together sometimes, but I felt no special attachment to them."
When the topic turned to friendship, Egrer immediately perked up and adjusted his tie. He was always happy to discuss this topic, and the tone of a sage naturally slipped into his voice.
"Friendship comes in different forms. Mutually beneficial, based on a pleasant pastime, and true friendship. I suppose in your case, it was the second type."
"What a clear distinction for such an ephemeral concept," Weiss snorted. "All societal relationships are fundamentally based on benefit. Without it, there would be no friendships, alliances, or any other relationships between people."
"Don't be so cynical. Is there even a sliver of benefit for each other in our friendship? What do we give each other?"
Weiss pondered and came up empty. It wasn't surprising, since there really was no benefit.
"Pleasant company?" she finally guessed. "It elevates the mood, and a good mood is a benefit."
"Pleasant company is the end goal of a different kind of friendship. Of course, they're all connected, but by benefit, I meant something more tangible. For example, how it all started for us - we just teamed up to fight our leaders. We supported each other, helped with ideas, did things together. And then we just got to know each other better, and when the foundation of our friendship back then vanished, we didn't stop hanging out."
"Then what kind of friendship do we have? I suppose, according to your logic, if there is no benefit in our relationship, nor is there the goal to simply have fun, then only true friendship remains. Enlighten me then, how does it differ from the others?"
"First, I'll tell you about the first two." Egrer cleared his throat. Oh, if she only knew how long he'd wanted to share his research with someone who wouldn't immediately start grumbling 'There he goes about his friendship again, ugh.' "If a friendship built on benefit loses its foundation, it collapses. This alliance isn't aimed at the person themselves, not their personality traits, but at what they give you. The benefit runs out - the point of communicating further vanishes, even if it was pleasant to be in each other's company. Absolutely anyone could have been in that friend's place."
"You say that as if it's a bad thing." Weiss rolled her eyes. As if she considered him a naive idealist. "People use each other all the time, but if it brings equal benefit to both, then why not?"
"I don't consider that type of friendship bad; a bad friendship is like wet fire," Egrer explained. "If a friendship is bad, then it's not a friendship at all."
"Magenta is perfectly capable of creating wet fire. As well as stone, wind, electric, and many others."
"Don't nitpick my words; you understood what I meant. So, with friendship aimed simply at a pleasant pastime, it's the same thing - remove the pleasure, and the friendship is gone. As you noted, it's very similar to a mutually beneficial one, but here the benefit is more psychological. However, the foundation of true friendship is the personality itself. Our friendship will only end if one of us dies or changes beyond recognition..."
"...Which is almost the same thing," Weiss finished the thought. "I've never thought about it in that light."
"On this topic, you won't find a bigger expert than me," Egrer smirked confidently. "True friendship doesn't have to be pleasant or mutually beneficial. You value the person for who they are, ignoring everything else. Of course, there might be a lot of things I don't like about you, but as I said, this friendship isn't supposed to bring pleasure. Take our recent conversation about modern art, for example—it was very unpleasant for me to realize I'd been wrong my whole life. But that conversation made me more enlightened."
"I must admit, there are many irritating things about you too." Weiss rolled her eyes. "For example, your thunderous honesty infuriates me quite a bit sometimes. I dread to imagine how many friends you'd have if you knew how to lie. They would surely number in the thousands."
"Well, I prefer quality over quantity, and true friends aren't that easy to find. I'm not even sure what type my own team belongs to. Probably only Ill is a true one. I only befriended Madge and Yort because I needed two more acquaintances for a Beacon team that I'd know at least a little bit." Noticing her confused look, Egrer decided to explain. "Before Initiation, I was really afraid that if I ended up in a team of strangers, it would fall apart fast. I don't even remember why anymore."
"In that case, your goal was met, which means you have no further basis to interact with the two of them. Yet you do not ignore them. Doesn't that mean you have a true friendship after all?"
'She caught the essence fast!'
"Maybe. In any case, it's really hard to ignore the people you live in the same room with, even if you really want to. You of all people should know."
"Hey." Weiss kicked him in the leg, but Egrer paid it no mind. He was catching his breath after his passionate speech.
If only she knew how much he had already driven his team crazy with such talks. For them, it was a much simpler concept: you like the person—they're your friend; you don't like them—they're not. But in reality, everything is much more complicated; relationships fundamentally cannot be simple.
It might only seem like everything is easy and understandable, but it's actually very difficult to start truly understanding others. And it's precisely on this skill that the strongest friendship is built.
Like the one between Egrer and Illmond.
Or between Egrer and Weiss.
"Why did you decide to ask me to dance?" It was obvious that this question had been brewing in her head for a long time.
"You looked very lonely."
Not to mention that it was precisely because of Egrer that she was left alone at the ball. His conscience would've just eaten him alive if he'd left it like that.
"You do realize that rumors will only strengthen after this, right? We provided rather substantial evidence that we supposedly have a relationship."
"Yeah. But I don't see it bothering you much."
"Nor you."
Egrer didn't answer. He had either gotten used to it or come to terms with it. Taking offense at Yang was useless; it only spurred her on even more, and snapping at strangers whose only sin was stupidity felt a bit much. Besides, in reality...
Suddenly, a thought came to Egrer.
"Maybe we really should start dating?" It would remain forever a mystery whether he blurted it out because of the punch he drank, the festive mood, or if it was his genuine desire. It no longer mattered that he had tried with all his might to stop the rumors swirling around them, just as it didn't matter that Weiss used to be on his blacklist. He was just tired of it all.
"Are you joking?" Weiss snorted.
"I'm serious." She looked at him in bewilderment. Then she turned away.
"That's somewhat overly blunt."
"If I've learned anything lately, it's that being blunt is the best tactic in relationships," Egrer shared with her. "You can beat around the bush till the end of time."
"Yes, but a direct confession lacks the charm hidden behind a game of hints."
"Wanna make things complicated?"
"I want more romance." Egrer involuntarily snorted into his fist, and the previously embarrassed Weiss turned her head toward him. For some reason, her angry face only made Egrer laugh harder.
"You and romance? Ha, never would've thought."
"Even I want to meet a knight on a white horse who will carry me in his arms to his palace. Along with flowers, chocolates, and holding hands while walking in the park."
Egrer scratched his chin. He was clearly far from the image of a fairy-tale knight. However...
"I'm better than any knight! I'm a charismatic noble rogue who will kidnap you right out of the clutches of that bore."
"Hmm..." Weiss conspicuously pondered. "If I must choose between these two cliches, I actually like that option more."
"Can I consider that a yes?"
"Quite." She majestically extended her hand to him, and Egrer kissed it without hesitation.
After that, an awkward silence hung in the air.
"Honestly, this is my first time," Egrer admitted. However, he immediately tried to pad his ego. "Nah, there was one girl at the orphanage that I liked, but things just didn't work out between us."
"I'm sure she simply didn't understand your courting," Weiss guessed, and he nodded importantly. "Few people appreciate friendly rivalry, where they constantly argue with you, nitpick every detail, throw wrenches in your plans, and verbally pull your pigtails in every possible way."
"Yeah, yeah... wait, no, no! What gave you the idea that's exactly how it went?!"
"Because you do all of the above to me. It's strange that I hadn't figured it out sooner..."
"I'm not a tsundere!"
"I don't even know what that is."
"I don't hide my feelings behind a wall of snark, pretending I'm indifferent to the object of my affection," Egrer explained, causing Weiss to raise a skeptical eyebrow. "And by object of affection, I meant that girl, not you, just so you know."
"Our relationship will be maximally awkward," she said after a minute of silence. Her even tone showed absolute confidence in her words. "It simply cannot be otherwise."
"You're the exact same way."
"That is exactly my point. But since it has come to this, I have a few conditions!" Weiss declared. "First - no keeping your hands to yourself without permission. Second - in public, you will act with me as usual. Third - when visiting any establishments, I will be the one paying. After all, just to get into a top-tier restaurant, you'd have to sell all your internal organs."
"For some reason, I feel like a sub... And despite my trampled manhood, I'm forced to agree to the third condition." Who was Egrer to pass up the chance to eat elite restaurant food on someone else's dime? "With my pocket money, I really couldn't afford to maintain the heiress of the SDC. Can't exactly take you to the shawarma stand on the corner, right?"
"Correct, I deserve only the best."
"Is a broke guy really the best option?" Egrer chuckled self-deprecatingly.
"For lack of other candidates, one has to take what's available," she nodded with exaggerated seriousness.
"What about Neptune? What about Jaune?"
Weiss waved her hand as if the mere mention of them gave her a headache. No wonder.
"I'm begging you, Eg. The first dumped me himself, and the second is completely taken now. And frankly, it is too much effort to look for someone else. You practically fell into my hands yourself."
"Hey, hey, hey, who fell into whose hands?" Egrer wagged his finger. "The Order of the Backstabbers was my idea, and you're the one who joined me."
"And what would you have done with that order if you were the only one in it?" Weiss replied in the same tone.
"And what would you have done if I hadn't offered you to join me?"
This argument could clearly go on endlessly, as was usually the case with them. The most diverse arguments, of varying levels of importance and absurdity, could spawn in their heads at lightning speed. But right now, neither of them had the slightest desire to engage in anything like that.
"I suppose the situation at the time was a stalemate," Weiss shrugged. "I propose we settle for a draw and admit that without each other, the order wouldn't have existed."
"Equality in a relationship. I like it."
"Did I hear the word 'Equality'? Is it just me, or does someone want to split the restaurant bills 50/50?"
"Tyrant, you can't buy me with money!"
"What about delicious food bought with that money?"
"Hmm... no."
"Have you ever tried lobster?" Weiss asked with a sly smile. "Or crab claws in a creamy garlic sauce? Perhaps you've eaten marbled beef? Heard of diamond caviar? If you only knew what they serve in expensive restaurants..."
With every dish listed, saliva gathered in his mouth all on its own. Egrer gulped and tried to fight her influence, recalling the most disgusting slop of his life—scrambled eggs with canned stew and yesterday's macaroni, authored by Roman. However, it didn't help; mouth-watering images spawned in his head like an uncontrollable hurricane, and his tongue could already taste the rich flavors.
"If you acknowledge my unconditional authority, all of this will become yours, let's say... next Sunday."
Egrer choked on his saliva in surprise.
"Did... did you just ask me on a date?"
Weiss's smile abruptly broke, and her face turned red. It dawned on her how what she'd just said sounded.
"Since w-we agreed that I'm the one in charge, then I should be the one taking the initiative." The slight stutter at the beginning did not escape Egrer.
At first, he wanted to reply snarkily somehow, but decided to just let it go. You can only get pleasure from playful banter as long as it doesn't go too far. At least Egrer hoped it was all just a joke.
Otherwise, he'd be very surprised if she slapped a collar on him tomorrow with a tag reading "Fido" and her address. Just so if her pet got lost, he'd be returned to the proper place.
"Grimm take you, you half-baked dominatrix. I'll gladly bleed you dry. You'll end up owing me."
"Sounds like a challenge." Weiss, who until then had been looking him straight in the eyes, suddenly cast a slight sideways glance. "Wait, isn't that Ruby over there?"
Egrer turned around and indeed saw Ruby.
She didn't notice them at all, trying hard to pretend she was the main character of a spy movie. The serious look, the long glances from around corners, and the quick dashes that absolutely had to end with a cool roll to cover—Ruby was unsuccessfully trying to replicate all of this.
At first glance, she was just playing around. However, any suspicions that she was just fooling around were destroyed by her face. A very serious face.
Egrer and Weiss watched this performance from a distance. Ruby was approaching the Headmaster's tower and, eventually, disappeared from sight, walking behind one of the buildings.
"She's the one fooling around, yet I'm the one feeling ashamed," Weiss muttered, furrowing her brows. Egrer easily recognized that look. The look of a person who passionately wants to get to the bottom of something. "She isn't plotting anything bad, is she? Why would she go to the Headmaster's tower at night?"
And that was a very good question.
"Maybe... she wanted to make a call?" Egrer guessed uncertainly. "There are CCTS consoles on the third floor, I think."
"At night? To make a call? Why guess, let's just catch her," she said, standing up from the bench. Even quieter, she added, "She will pay for ruining such a moment..."
A formidable motivation. One could only pity poor Ruby, for she didn't even suspect what a terrifying force had just come for her soul.