Chapter : 39
The Bachelor Doesn’t Want to Go to a Wedding
“Ah! Mr. Eight!”
“Hello. It’s been a while, Rouge.”
It was a week after I had drinks with Ludwig at the bar.
Eight showed up at my workshop.
Rouge was the first to notice and immediately stood up to greet him.
I’d once asked Eight to gather materials for a magical tool, so he and Rouge already knew each other.
It wouldn’t have been strange if he’d come again for a similar job.
However, this time, Eight had brought Mariela with him.
Eight and I had always gotten along well enough, but we’d never visited each other’s workplaces or homes.
So for him to come all the way to my workshop… it felt a bit odd.
An unpleasant premonition began to swell inside me.
“Mr. Eight, did you need something from our workshop today?”
“I’d like to discuss something with Jilk…”
“Huh? You know our Jilk?”
Rouge looked puzzled when Eight said he wanted to talk to me.
Unlike me, Eight had social skills and a friendly, approachable personality.
Rouge probably couldn’t imagine that I had any kind of connection with him.
In truth, if it hadn’t been for our meeting at the lake, we’d probably never have crossed paths.
“Well, yes. Through a small connection, we ended up becoming friends.”
Rouge turned back to me with wide eyes.
She didn’t say it aloud, but her expression clearly said, “Why with Jilk, of all people?”
Even Tristan, who was at his desk polishing magic stones, gave me a look that said “No way.”
My employees really were as rude as ever.
“I see. Well then, Jilk, Mr. Eight says he has something to discuss—”
“Tell him I’m not here.”
“I can see you right there!”
“Our eyes literally just met, and you’re trying to pretend you’re not here!?”
Eight and Mariela both called me out immediately as Rouge relayed my words.
Damn it. I should never have designed this workshop so open that you could see all the way from the entrance.
Now I couldn’t even make a decent excuse for being “out.”
Maybe I should install partitions for confidentiality’s sake…
But then again, visitors are so rare that it hardly seems worth it.
“Stop fooling around. Mr. Eight helps us with material procurement—you should treat him properly.”
“…Fine. I’ll take them to the reception room. Follow me.”
“Thanks.”
Reluctantly, I stood up and led Eight and Mariela upstairs.
We went to the second floor, where the reception room was.
I rarely used it myself, but Rouge often did for sales meetings, so it was kept reasonably clean.
That said, it wasn’t like the Count of Blend’s mansion with carpets so thick your shoes would sink in.
Just modest furniture and simple décor.
I seated Eight and Mariela on the sofa, and Rouge soon came in carrying coffee.
After placing the cups down, she quietly left the room.
“This tastes even more refined than before!”
“It really does!”
The moment they sipped it, both of them let out surprised exclamations.
Their praise brought a small smile to my face.
“I improved the blend quite a bit since last time.”
I’d almost forgotten—after the Count Blend incident, I’d promised to sell some of this to Eight once I perfected it.
I should give him some when this conversation is over.
“So, what did you two want to discuss with me?”
Once they’d taken a breath and some coffee, I prompted them to get to the point.
They glanced at each other, nodded, and then Eight spoke.
“You might’ve guessed already, but—we’ve decided to get married.”
“I see. Congratulations.”
“Eh? That’s it? Such a flat reaction?”
Mariela blinked at me, a bit taken aback by my immediate but emotionless response.
“After seeing the way you two were shopping together at the central market, I figured it was only a matter of time.”
“You saw us? That’s kind of embarrassing…”
Besides, Eight had mumbled about wanting that kind of life back at the bar.
Now that they’d shown up together, it would’ve been strange not to realize it.
“Still, that’s quite a quick decision. It’s only been, what, a month and a half since then?”
I’d heard that relationships between adults progress faster, but this was quicker than expected.
In my previous life’s terms, this was a lightning marriage.
Normally, you’d date a while longer—maybe even live together first.
“In our case,” Eight said, “Mariela and I have been adventuring as party members for a long time. I don’t think we’ll have any issues.”
“Yeah, we’ve been in the same party for about two years. I think we know each other better than most couples!”
“And yet, you didn’t know how to close the distance with him before?”
“Don’t bring that up!”
Mariela’s face flushed bright red when I teased her.
Well, if they’d spent years adventuring together, they probably knew each other inside and out.
Just as she said, they likely knew each other better than the average couple.
So maybe it wasn’t exactly a lightning marriage after all.
“Anyway,” Eight continued, “what I wanted to ask is—would you come to our wedding?”
“I refuse.”
“Eh!? Why?”
“Let me ask you this instead—why do you even want me there?”
Eight had a wide social circle, unlike me. Sure, we were friends, but not exactly close ones.
As for Mariela, I’d only met her once and given her some advice. We could barely even be called acquaintances.
With so many guests sure to attend, there was no reason to invite someone with such a thin connection.
“Because… it’s thanks to you that Eight and I were able to get along.”
That might be true, but really, it was Mariela’s own effort that made it happen.
I hadn’t done anything special—just shared a few idle thoughts from a lifelong bachelor’s perspective.
There was no reason to be thanked for that.
“Jilk, you might think we’re not that close, but I don’t see it that way,” Eight said earnestly.
“There aren’t many guys our age who are still single. You’re a rare friend who understands how I think.
Is it really strange that I’d want someone like that to celebrate with me?”
Even Eight was looking at me seriously now, just like Mariela.
So that’s what she’d meant before—how Eight acted differently around me.
I’d hung around with guys who thought like that in my previous life,
and even among my noble friends now, there were a few who shared my views.
But Eight wasn’t one of them.
In this world, happiness was defined by marriage, family, and children.
His outlook made him a bit of an odd one out.
So even if he had many friends, there probably weren’t many he truly connected with.
Maybe that’s why he’d felt a sense of kinship with me.
“…Well, I suppose that makes sense.”
“So? Will you come?”
“……”
I hesitated.
“You really don’t want to go that badly?”
“You know what I’m like. I genuinely prefer living single.
I can’t wholeheartedly approve of marriage—it’s just not in me.
Someone like that doesn’t belong at a wedding, do they?”
A wedding is a celebration.
Eight knew how I felt about bachelorhood—why I liked it and how I lived.
For someone like me to stand there and offer empty congratulations would be rude.
Neither he nor Mariela could genuinely enjoy hearing that.
As I explained my reasoning, the two of them suddenly laughed.
“Fufu… Mr. Jilk, you’re more serious than I thought.”
“…What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Most people wouldn’t think that deeply about others.
The fact that you do—it makes you far more sincere than most.”
“Even if you think that, we still want you to come,” Eight said with a bright, easy smile.
“So stop worrying and just be there.”
He set a beautifully made wedding invitation on the table,
then left the reception room with Mariela.
Left alone, I picked up the elegant card.
And with a sigh, I buried my head in my hands, unsure what to do.
