FELIX ARGYLE IS A PRETTY BOY

1

“This is terrible! They say I am to attend a matchmaking meeting!”

Such were the desperate words that rang through the Karsten manor one fine afternoon. The door to the parlor flew open, and a young boy with golden hair tumbled in, still breathing hard.

He had scarlet eyes, distinctive canine teeth, and fine clothing, including an extravagant fur robe. If he could have mustered a dignified silence and a smile, no doubt he would have captured the hearts of many a girl. But alas, no one had ever seen him act that mature.

The restless young boy was named Fourier Lugunica, and he was the fourth son of the king of the Dragonfriend Kingdom of Lugunica, a bona fide prince.

“Calm down, Your Highness. How can the rest of us maintain our composure when you are so frantic?”

The source of this admonition was a young woman who showed not even a hint of panic. She had long, beautiful green hair tied with a white ribbon, her still-growing body clad in men’s clothes. Her almond-shaped amber eyes and firm features marked her as someone who would be a great beauty one day.

This was Crusch Karsten, the only daughter of the master of this house, Meckart Karsten. She would one day inherit her family’s ducal estate and was sure to become a woman of great stature. But at this time, she was still a girl of fourteen—those around her had had scant opportunity to recognize her gifts.

“You expect me to be calm at a time like this?! They’re trying to marry me off! Don’t you think that should be of great concern to you? Shouldn’t it be of great concern to her, Ferris?!”

“Ah? You’re asking Ferri?” The person in question spun and pointed to himself. The thoroughly surprised speaker was a girlish boy flicking his flaxen cat ears—Felix Argyle.

It had been five years since Felix, for his own reasons, had taken the name Ferris, begun dressing in women’s clothing, and become Crusch’s attendant. The two of them were well acquainted with Fourier since long ago and had developed the capacity to enjoy whatever apparent crises the excitable young prince brought them.

Overcoming his initial surprise, Ferris tapped a finger to his lips and said, “Mm, you’re right, Prince Fourier. But! But! You’re fourteen now… You’re not a child, so it makes sense they’d want to set up a meowtch for you.”

Fourier paled at that; his balled fists trembled. “No, absolutely not! I shall not be party to any matchmaking! I refuse!”

“But, Your Highness. As a member of the royal family, it is your duty to take a spouse and continue the royal line. The problem won’t go away simply because you don’t like it.”

“U-um, you’re not wrong, of course. It’s—I’m not objecting to the idea of marriage in general, you see. But, you know…I—I have the right to choose, don’t I? I don’t need a matchmaker to… Ahh, what are you forcing me to say?!”

“Ah, my loutish prince…” Ferris said.

As Fourier voiced his ardent resentment of the matchmaking meeting, Crusch replied with irrefutable logic. Fourier attempted to respond, but there was nothing he could say, and he soon resorted to a red-faced bout of temper.

Ferris could only shake his head and sigh. He felt the frustration born from five years of watching these two talk past each other. Fourier’s infatuation with Crusch was plain to see. It made sense he would have no interest in a matchmaking meeting when his heart had belonged to another for so long. If only he could bring himself to be honest about it. The fourth prince, Fourier, and the daughter of a duke. They were close enough in status; there would be no harm in it. But…

“Ferris, His Highness seems quite upset. Did I say something wrong? What do you think?” Crusch said, whispering to him so the prince couldn’t hear. She was totally oblivious.

Crush was Ferris’s lifelong master, the most loving girl in all the world—and she was utterly unable to discern anything more than friendly affection. There was no harm in Fourier’s romantic interest, except that Crusch herself was his last and greatest obstacle.

He wished Fourier would hurry up and find the courage to confess his feelings…

“No, Lady Crusch, you haven’t done anything wrong. It’s all His Highness. He’s made the meowstake. Lady, help me tell him to be less of a lout…”

“Hmm, very well. I suppose I can trust your assessment. Your Highness, I’m not entirely clear on this, but I offer my heartfelt request that you stop being such a lout.”

“Hrk!”

There was no bite to the words, but Fourier clapped his hands over his chest and fell to his knees because it was his beloved who had spoken. Crusch’s eyes went wide at this, and she looked reprovingly at Ferris.

“I’ll punish you for this later, Ferris.”

“Awww, but Ferri just wanted to get a smile out of you, milady!”

“Sheesh. Ever the smooth talker. I suppose you’re the only one who could sneak something like that past my blessing of wind reading. It’s just as well to be reminded that my protection isn’t all-powerful.”

“Yes! That’s all Ferri was trying to do—to remind you of that, milady.”

“I’ll pretend to believe you. But I’m still going to punish you.”

Crusch nodded sternly. Not once in her life had she ever failed to follow through on something she said she would do. Punishment was a fine-sounding word, but she didn’t pull her punches when it came to handing them out, so anyone who wanted to play a prank on her had to be prepared for the consequences.

“Oh well! Ferri will keep making jokes, that’s for sure! Just to see the lovely Lady Crusch wear that look of surprise on her face! Oh, what a rare treat!”

“Arrgh, that will be enough out of you two! When a person comes in agonized, tormented, is it not usual to comfort him?! Or do you enjoy leaving me to suffer? Oh, the loneliness!” Fourier broke in after growing quite tired of being left out.

It could be a challenge to pacify Fourier once he got into one of these childish tantrums. Crusch and Ferris turned to the task together.

It was perhaps a testament to the strength of the relationship among the three that neither of them seemed to consider this role a burden.

2

When Fourier’s temper finally cooled, the trio stayed in the parlor discussing the details of the matchmaking interview.

“The prospective match is the daughter of some relation to the archbishop of Gusteko. They say she’s nineteen! A whole five years older than me. This will not do at all. We must cancel the meeting.” Fourier already sounded thoroughly convinced of his own conclusion.

“Your Highness! Your Highness, I’m telling you, you have no proof!” Ferris attempted to remonstrate without raising the young lord’s hackles again.

The Holy Kingdom of Gusteko was one of the four great nations, known for its freezing temperatures and the blizzards it endured year-round. It was also famous for a religious outlook that could only have been produced by such harsh circumstances, a unique form of spiritualism. The archbishop Fourier had mentioned was a deeply revered person in that country.

“In Gusteko, the archbishop is almost as important as the Council of Elders is here,” Ferris said. “A meowrriage alliance with that family would be very important for Lugunica…”

“Such a match would be of tremendous import for both nations, Your Highness,” Crusch added. “This is an essential duty.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait! We’re just going in circles. When did the both of you start siding with the Holy Kingdom? What I’m saying is I don’t want to make any matches! Help me!” Fourier clung to Ferris’s knees, nearly in tears. Ferris couldn’t help thinking how unbecoming this scene would look if anyone were to bear witness, but nonetheless he gave the crybaby prince a pat on the head.

“If you’re that upset, Lord Fourier, then they probably won’t go through with it…but unfortunately, being bothered probably isn’t a good enough reason to turn down the meeting itself.”

“Mm, yes, I realize that myself. By which I mean, when I said as much to Miklotov, I was subjected to one of his rare fits of anger. I had no idea he could work himself into such a fury…”

Miklotov of the Council of Elders was known for his wisdom and his level head. The news that Fourier had already managed to upset the great adviser caused Ferris to put his head in his hands, then shoot a desperate look at Crusch.

“Lady Cruuusch… What should we do?”

“Good question. For the good of the kingdom I would have His Highness simply resign himself to this meeting, but as I owe a great debt to him, I am obliged to do all I can when he comes to me for help. Incidentally, Your Highness, if this marriage were to go ahead, would the young lady be coming to Lugunica?”

“No—Miklotov told me I should prepare to continue my studies somewhere chilly… I can’t do it! I hate being hot and being cold, but cold is definitely worse! You know me—even on a warm day like today, I never let my robe out of my sight.”

Fourier couldn’t bring himself to have any interest in the meeting, and he was certainly concerned about what life would be like once he was wed. He would feel bad for a young woman stuck with someone who had resisted the match so fervently. Then again, if she was anything like Fourier, it was possible she was also being forced into this.

“And that means it’s possible neither of the parties to this marriage would be happy…” he moaned.

It would have been simple enough to point out that many marriages were similar, and let the matter end there. But just as Ferris loved and respected Crusch, he felt a deep affection for Fourier as well. If it could be done, he wanted to see them both enjoy the greatest possible happiness in this life. Even if, at the worst, it left Ferris himself without a place to belong.

“Okay, Your Highness, mew’ve made yourself perfectly clear. We must find a way to scuttle this meeting. I guess your reputation can’t get any worse, anyway!”

“Oh! You’ve come around? Now, that’s encouraging, Ferris! So, what’s your plan? Shall we pretend I’m already betrothed? You know, to…someone?”

“Mew would have to show more courage than you’ve ever shown in your life to pull that off, Your Highness!”

They would need more than enthusiasm. Even as he chastised Fourier for his lack of spine, Ferris took Crusch’s hand. She was looking very put out. Then he placed it over another hand that was still clinging to his knees—Fourier’s hand.

“This is how it works,” Ferris said. “As sorry as I feel for the young lady, at the meeting you have to declare that your heart already belongs to another…and that’s how you’ll make it through!”

“Th-th-that’s your plan?! But…but Crusch and I aren’t lovers…!”