By the day of the ball, Valentine finally welcomed the sunshine it had gone without for so long after weeks of battering storms.
The person Sir Walton had said would come looking for Mulan still had not appeared. Mulan could only cut back on unnecessary outings, and whenever he did go out, he took the dolls with him wherever he went.
During that time, Mulan visited the Holy Temple several times. Naturally, he most often went to the one where Cleric Evan served. Evan remained as warm toward him as ever, as though Walton's earlier appearance had made no difference, and the two genuinely began getting to know each other.
Evan did not seem to notice the dolls tucked inside Mulan's clothes, though, and inside the Holy Temple, the dolls became motionless, as if they were ordinary toys.
Mulan also visited another Holy Temple in the city. Its cleric seemed to be an ordinary man, though perhaps Mulan simply failed to detect anything unusual about him. Still, being inside the temple did have a calming effect on his mind, which forced him to take the existence of this so-called "God" seriously.
Since he felt Walton had already chosen him and he would surely end up doing something out of the ordinary, Mulan held off on following Leo's advice to join the Valentine Police Department. Instead, he waited while keeping regular hours and exercising. Well, sleeping in regularly counted too.
Today, Mulan changed into his relatively presentable clothes. Yes, it was more or less the same outfit he had worn when running errands for Walton before. But since the mud had been cleared from many of Valentine's streets, he traded his military boots for ordinary leather shoes that Old Buck had polished until they looked new.
As a gentleman in appearance only, Mulan naturally had to bring his cane. Of course, as a retired soldier who still possessed his fighting spirit, carrying a gun was perfectly reasonable too.
That was the explanation Mulan gave Old Buck when the old man felt the Ring of Light while straightening his clothes. Old Buck offered a few words of advice, but did not insist that Mulan leave his weapon behind when attending the ball.
Though many years had passed, deep down, the Jonester Family still considered itself a proud family of knights and held martial valor in high regard. It was perfectly normal for a descendant of the Jonester Family to carry a weapon. In the days of the old kingdom, they had been entitled to approach the king wearing swords, let alone an earl.
Sometimes, Mulan felt the Jonester Family lived in the glory of generations past. At other times, he had to admit that this pride was also what drove the family to keep striving.
Well, they kept striving, only to grow poorer with every effort.
With his top hat, coat, leather boots, cane, white gloves, and carefully groomed hair, Mulan had to admit as he left the house that he now looked respectably human, with something of an aristocratic air.
Since it was a birthday party, he ought to bring a birthday gift. But Mulan could not think of anything suitable, so he simply wrapped up a box of Old Buck's specialty cookies. It was the thought that counted, after all. Besides, they were edible, which made them much better than plenty of flashy but useless gifts.
The fine weather had brought an especially large number of people out onto the streets. After a good, dreamless night's sleep, Mulan felt particularly refreshed too. He had even gotten up on his own before lunch, and the dark circles under his eyes had faded considerably, putting a spring in his step.
A whistle drifted over. Mulan glanced ahead and to his left, where a girl in an unusual outfit was walking toward him. She wore neither the beautiful dresses favored by young ladies nor the work skirts and tops of ordinary people. Instead, she had on riding breeches, tall boots, and a long overcoat, along with a man's top hat, yet her long hair flowed freely.
Mulan's eyes lit up. The outfit seemed an odd mishmash, but it looked quite good.
Passersby kept glancing at the girl, and some were talking about her, but she seemed perfectly at ease. He could hear it in her whistling, as though she did not care at all what anyone thought.
Some of that feeling rubbed off on Mulan. She seemed more like someone from the twenty-first century than a woman of this era.
The girl's whistle was clear and crisp, carrying a jaunty melody Mulan had never heard before. But when it came to whistling, he felt he was better at it than she was, and he knew a more suitable tune too.
The tune best suited to whistling was the "Colonel Bogey March," which was also Mulan's specialty. Before he knew it, he began to whistle.
A livelier tune with a more distinct rhythm came from Mulan's lips. It was also particularly well suited to being whistled loudly, drawing the attention of both the girl and the passersby.
The girl stopped before Mulan reached her, and he slowed his steps as well. By the time he drew alongside her, the brief march had just ended. It was really only a few similar melodies with changes in rhythm, yet it was remarkably pleasing to the ear.
"What song is that?"
The girl could not help asking. Mulan had stopped too, and answered with a smile.
"It's called the 'Second Lieutenant Jonester March.' I composed it myself, just for whistling. The melody is light and easy to whistle. Give it a try."
The girl nodded and tried whistling it. To his surprise, she immediately grasped both the melody and the rhythm, performing the whole thing on her very first attempt.
Although the "Colonel Bogey March" was the sort of tune that was hard to forget once heard, and easy to whistle smoothly even without hearing it all once you caught its rhythm, the girl's quick grasp still surprised Mulan a little.
"Very good. You've already learned it."
Mulan's praise was sincere, and the girl looked delighted.
"Thank you. It's a lovely tune. My name is Dolly."
"Hello, Miss Dolly. My name is Mulan."
The girl had a few freckles on her face. She smiled, showing just a little of her teeth, then corrected him.
"Not Dolly. Do~~~lly, like the musical note. Mm, Mulan Jonester. I know who you are. Valentine's great hero!"
The girl waved with a smile and continued on her way, only now she was whistling the "Second Lieutenant Jonester March."
"Doll-y, Do-lly?"
People actually had names like that? Probably an alias.
Mulan stood where he was and watched her walk away, thinking it had been a very interesting encounter. Someone like her was surely carefree and would probably make a good friend.
As for whether he felt any attraction of another kind, Mulan could only admit that he was rather shallow and preferred a somewhat fuller chest.
It was only afternoon, with plenty of time left before the ball, so Mulan went to the Holy Temple first. He entered with practiced ease, then headed quite naturally toward the inner rooms and Evan's living quarters.
"Mulan, this is the Holy Temple, not your kitchen. You can't just come in whenever you please, much less without announcing yourself."
Wearing nothing but a pair of underpants as he washed a large basin of clothes, Evan held up a pair of sudsy underwear and looked helplessly at the respectably dressed Mulan.
Another major reason Mulan liked visiting the Holy Temple was Evan, who was an interesting fellow too. Now Mulan spread his hands and explained in an exaggerated tone.
"But my esteemed Cleric Evan, you said I could come to see you anytime, anywhere. And you said it here in this Holy Temple, bathed in the Holy Light of the True God. Surely a cleric wouldn't go back on his word?"
By now, Evan and Mulan had long since become close. Their relationship was less that of a cleric and a believer than that of friends. Evan spent all day maintaining a holy image before his congregation and being cautious about everything, but he could relax around Mulan.
"Yes. As a member of the clergy, I certainly would not lie."
Evan said this in a solemn, holy tone, then suddenly looked behind Mulan in surprise.
"Sir Walton?"
"Huh?"
Mulan turned to look, then suddenly felt an intense sense of danger, as though he were facing a Steam Tank's shell on the battlefield. Almost without thinking, he dove to one side. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of something trailing suds and water as it flew past his shoulder.
Holy shit, he'd throw that too?
"Good Head, watch my clothes! I don't have anything to change into!"
"Good Head? I'm going to get your clothes wet today, and then you won't be able to go to the ball!"