Bookworm 54. 12

Epilogue
A lone highbeast flew toward Kirnberger. The sky had been bright blue when it departed from Ehrenfest, but now there were dark clouds amassing overhead.
Alexis glared up at the changing heavens, then grabbed a rejuvenation potion from his hip and gulped it down. He wanted to reach Kirnberger before the rain began to fall, so he channeled more mana into the reins he was holding and made his highbeast accelerate.
I wonder, what will Father say when he’s heard my piece?
Alexis was both a guard knight serving Wilfried and the son of Giebe Kirnberger’s second wife. Tonight, he had an order from his lord to find out what the giebe thought about Rozemyne after their Spring Prayer meeting—and to secure his cooperation, if possible.
Giebe Kirnberger had openly declared that he wouldn’t support an archduke candidate simply because his son was in their service, and Alexis was certain that nothing he could say would change that. The most he could do was pray that Rozemyne had made a poor impression—such news would do wonders to cheer up his lord, who had been in a sour mood for quite some time—but he knew that such a wish was craven and despairing.
Alexis had never thought he would one day return home with such a heavy heart. He wanted to delay his arrival at Kirnberger, even if only a little, but the sky continued to fill with dark clouds. The only choice he had was to accelerate.

“Ah, Lord Alexis. We are glad you made it before the rain got any worse.”
Alexis had arrived while the rain was still only a light shower and was immediately welcomed by knights in service to Giebe Kirnberger. These same knights had served as his instructors before he came to work under Wilfried, so he knew them all well. He accepted the towel they held out to him and started drying his red-orange hair.
“So you’ve finally come of age, Alexis,” one of the knights said. “How quickly time travels. Are you here on a mission?”
“Yep. I wouldn’t have been able to leave the Noble’s Quarter without an order from my lord.”
Underage retainers were normally forbidden from leaving the Noble’s Quarter, even when ordered to. The rule had become slightly more relaxed as of late, but only to accommodate the underage archduke candidates involved with the printing industry and religious ceremonies.
Alexis was a new adult, having graduated only at the end of last winter, and this was his first time returning to Kirnberger after the end of Spring Prayer. Being welcomed home by so many familiar faces made him feel proud that he was finally old enough to complete missions on his own. Before he knew it, the burden of his duty felt a little bit more manageable.
“Lord Alexis, how is Judithe doing? She accompanied Lady Rozemyne on her recent visit but spoke almost entirely about her lady. As I recall, she barely said a word about herself.”
The inquiry had come from a veteran knight who had given Alexis a special training session when he was first chosen to be a guard knight. Alexis knew him well but not his daughter, Judithe, since she hadn’t been able to visit the giebe’s estate before her baptism.
Despite them both being from Kirnberger, Alexis had seen Judithe for the first time in the castle’s playroom. They now shared a profession, working as the guard knights of archduke candidates, but their interactions were still few and far between. On top of being different ages and genders, they served different individuals.
I’m just glad she’s an apprentice knight.
Had she been an apprentice attendant or scholar, they wouldn’t have had any opportunities to meet, and Alexis wouldn’t have had anything to say in response to the veteran knight. In their current situation, he could at least see her at the training grounds of the Knight’s Order. Judithe was also famous for her tremendous accuracy—a skill that had brought her to the attention of Bonifatius, who spoke about her on occasion.
“Lord Wilfried is usually in the castle and Lady Rozemyne in the temple, so their retainers seldom have a chance to interact,” Alexis explained. “I only see Judithe at the training grounds, but she is an excellent knight in the making. She even receives frequent praise from Lord Bonifatius. I greatly admire her accuracy and focus.”
“I see,” the veteran knight replied, pleased to hear that his daughter was doing well. “To think that Lord Bonifatius is praising her...”
Alexis was immediately reminded of the days when the veteran knight had declared that his son would follow in his footsteps and grow up to become a knight in service to the giebe. The boy in question was Theodore, who was currently in an unusual situation wherein he served Rozemyne only at the Royal Academy. Alexis smiled to himself, glad to see that the family was as close as ever, then asked after Giebe Kirnberger.
“Is my father in his office? I did send word before leaving Ehrenfest, but...”
“He is. Allow us to take you there.”
“No need. You can get back to training.”
Alexis hadn’t found many opportunities to return home as of late, but he had grown up in the estate; he didn’t need to be led to his father’s office. Still, the attendant and the other knights said that the giebe would scold them if a guest were allowed to wander around without a guide, so he had no choice but to follow them.
“Excuse us, Giebe Kirnberger,” they said.
Giebe Kirnberger often flew around the province on patrol, so his office was usually swarming with visitors whenever he was in the estate. This time, however—perhaps because Alexis had sent word that he was coming—the office was completely empty except for an attendant serving tea, the giebe himself, and a scholar standing behind him.
“Come in,” Giebe Kirnberger said.
Alexis had expected his father to be busy with work, as usual, but this meeting seemed nothing like their ones before. Giebe Kirnberger was acting not as a father welcoming his son home but as a giebe hosting an archducal retainer who had arrived on official business.
The realization that he was being treated first and foremost as a guard knight made Alexis feel the weight of his duty even more keenly than before. He stood up straight as if attempting to shoulder it better.
“Giebe Kirnberger,” Alexis said, “Lord Wilfried has ordered me here to gather intelligence on Lady Rozemyne’s visit during Spring Prayer.”
In response to his son’s formal declaration, Giebe Kirnberger raised an eyebrow, then gave a curt nod and offered the boy a seat. It seemed that Alexis’s attitude had received a passing mark.
“I see,” the giebe replied with a scrutinizing look. “And what intelligence does your lord seek, exactly? Was there some kind of problem with Lady Rozemyne’s Spring Prayer report?”
Alexis stiffened; this was his first time facing Giebe Kirnberger, not his father. Engaging in serious conversations with nobles in the castle had always been the work of scholars and attendants, and those he had interacted with at the Royal Academy had all been underage. In other words, he had very little experience with direct confrontations or needing to weigh up his conversation partner while they did the same with him. He could only swallow nervously under the sharp, experienced eyes of a seasoned noble.
“There was no problem with her report on Spring Prayer,” Alexis said. “Lord Wilfried simply wishes for more information.”
“Hmm. I understand that several of his retainers were relieved of duty over the winter. Is this really an urgent enough matter to warrant sending a guard knight who has recently come of age away from the Noble’s Quarter?”
Venturing off to gather intelligence was the duty of scholars. Of course, a knight who happened to notice something important while on an expedition would report as much to their lord or lady, but it was rare for them to be explicitly tasked with collecting information. Giebe Kirnberger understood all this as well, which was why he had assumed that the circumstances were serious.
Alexis gave a careful nod. “The impact of the purge has been significant. The archducal family cannot remain as it once was.”
“I received your report that the relationship between the archduke candidates has changed but did not detect any signs of that from Lady Rozemyne during Spring Prayer. She spoke in support of Lord Wilfried becoming the next aub and made it clear that she does not seek the position herself.”
Alexis felt a wave of relief wash away all of the tension in his body. His lord had been making all kinds of accusatory remarks. “The Leisegangs aren’t the only ones pushing for Rozemyne to become the next aub; she’s vying for the position herself,” he had said. “She got Father to adopt her purely so that she could take his place.” Things had gotten so bad that only Rozemyne’s retainers and Lamprecht were trying to refute his claims.
The purge had completely shifted the balance of power, such that barely any nobles of the former Veronica faction remained in the castle. Now, it was dominated by neutral parties and those of the Leisegang faction, meaning that Wilfried was isolated and unpopular despite his supposed position as the next aub. Perhaps this news from Giebe Kirnberger would ease his concerns to some degree.
“As a giebe, how did Lady Rozemyne seem to you?” Alexis asked, then shyly added, “As... As an archduke candidate, that is...”
“Lady Rozemyne, hmm?” the giebe replied, stroking his chin with a smile. “She was even better suited to becoming the aub than I had expected. She has all of the innate qualities necessary for the role; she did not cower when meeting me for the first time, and she clearly stated her thoughts. She also considered the opinions of others without allowing them to sway her. I would expect nothing less from Lord Bonifatius’s granddaughter. She would make for a talented archduchess who would take good advantage of her faction without needing to worry about becoming its puppet.”
Alexis took in a sharp breath; the giebe had seen through him and realized that his son was secretly on edge about facing his father in this formal setting.
“Furthermore,” the giebe continued, “as far as the reports on her actions in the Royal Academy and the development of the printing industry indicate, Lady Rozemyne is driven by the desire to create a more comfortable future. She wants to raise all of the students’ grades, ensure that nobles have more mana at their disposal, change society’s views on the temple and religious ceremonies, improve the position of commoners... And she wants more books. Someone with such clear goals will find it easier to secure people who are willing to work for them. As a faraway giebe, I can trust that she won’t simply allow her retainers to take control.”
That was higher praise than Alexis had expected. Giebe Kirnberger had only met Rozemyne once, though. She may have been an ideal archduke candidate on the outside, but a closer look would surely reveal some faults. Perhaps the giebe’s opinion would turn on its head once he knew more of the truth.
“I agree that Lady Rozemyne’s grades and ideas are splendid, but she is far too much of a dissident,” Alexis said. “Her actions and requests are sudden and incomprehensible to the point that she troubles all those around her. Were she to become the next Aub Ehrenfest, none of us would be able to keep up with her.”
This did nothing to faze Giebe Kirnberger; instead, he scoffed. “It is the duty of retainers and spouses to grip the reins of such people—to soften the blows such that their desires can be realized. That is why the archducal family takes the best of the best as retainers, is it not? In fact, we can already see for ourselves that Lady Rozemyne is doing well. Her successful relationships with those in her service are why the entire duchy’s grades have risen, not just her own, and why she has managed to connect with top-ranking duchies and the royal family. You will note that the retainers in question are not at all disapproving of their lady—my own Judithe and Theodore are proud to be serving her. If you mean to tell me that Lord Wilfried takes issue with this, he must be jealous and nothing more.”
Alexis shook his head, his bright blue eyes fixed on the giebe. “Some of her retainers and some of the Leisegangs have taken issue as well. Lord Traugott resigned after saying that he could not keep up with her at all, and the Leisegangs supporting her are pushing for the Ehrenfest students to lower their grades at the Royal Academy. It is hard to imagine her being a successful aub.”
“You would use Traugott as an example? As I recall, Lord Bonifatius was enraged at his grandson and fully blamed him for the incident. I was also informed via reports that the Leisegangs would support higher grades under Lady Rozemyne’s rule. Now... whose words were those? Not yours, I expect?”
Alexis faltered. His father was situated in Kirnberger, a backwater province, yet he seemed to know quite a bit about Ehrenfest’s current state of affairs. Minor nitpicks would do nothing to sway him.

After a moment spent in silence, Alexis gave a bitter nod, though he found his father’s tenacity to be somewhat assuring. “They were the words of my lord’s former head attendant, Oswald. He would describe Lord Wilfried as a far superior archduke candidate—one who does not trouble others with unconventional demands.”
“Moronic,” the giebe said. “That may be convenient for retainers, but it will do nothing to benefit the duchy.”
To his own surprise, Alexis was overcome with the feeling that he had just confirmed an important suspicion: there was a massive gap between what his fellow retainers and everybody else understood as common sense. Their position was heavily biased in favor of the former Veronica faction, and the current political climate had only made them more obstinate. It was constricting—and, at times, suffocating.
“An aub needs the will to decide upon and advance toward a goal, and the resolve to make hard decisions and accept responsibility for the consequences,” Giebe Kirnberger declared. “As an honor student, Lord Wilfried would make for a safe archduke, but someone who is a slave to his retainers’ opinions would never be able to stand shoulder to shoulder with top-ranking duchies or execute revolutionary ideas. In that sense, I consider Lady Rozemyne better suited to becoming an archduchess than a first wife.”
Alexis sighed. “Then I suppose I cannot give Lord Wilfried the answer he seeks. Father, if my lord holds me responsible for your assessment, will you welcome me home in Kirnberger?”
“I can’t say I follow. You would be held responsible for my opinions?”
“I would assume so. Lamprecht was rebuked after meetings with the Leisegang faction ended poorly.”
Wilfried had resolved to use Spring Prayer to get the nobles of the Leisegang faction on his side. He had assumed that his engagement to Rozemyne would make them more likely to accept him, citing the fact that, during his trips for the printing industry and such, he had actually been respected as the next aub. Rozemyne’s retainers and Lamprecht had attempted to advise Wilfried against the idea, stressing that it would end in failure, but he had chosen to go through with it anyway. He had sincerely believed that he could get through to the Leisegangs once they were standing face-to-face.
Alexis hadn’t been among those trying to stop his lord; he had appreciated the enthusiasm, if anything. He would simply focus on his duty as a guard—besides, Wilfried wouldn’t expect things to go well right off the bat.
Or so he had thought.
The giebes among the Leisegang faction had all given Wilfried cold glares and rejected him so harshly that he had come away distraught. Their support was for Rozemyne alone, and they had made it perfectly clear that, even with his engagement, they would eliminate Wilfried without a second thought if doing so would make their preferred candidate the next aub.
In his anger, Wilfried had been quick to pass the buck. “This plan failed because Lamprecht didn’t lay the proper groundwork. Rozemyne’s to blame as well; she’s always so uncooperative, even though she’s my fiancée.”
Giebe Kirnberger shook his head. “It should have come as no surprise to Lord Wilfried that the current Leisegang nobles would reject him. If he truly believed that he would win them over so easily, then he is tragically optimistic. Does he have zero understanding of what his grandmother did to them?”
“He knows the facts, but he has yet to grasp how much the Leisegangs hate her or how much resentment has accumulated over the years,” Alexis replied. “I am aware of the grave injustices that Lady Veronica inflicted upon Mother, but as I never experienced them firsthand, I never think about them too deeply.”
Alexis’s mother was a Leisegang noble. In her keenness to escape Veronica’s abuse, she had consulted Bonifatius’s first wife directly and, with Bonifatius’s support, married into Kirnberger. Veronica’s methods had put his mother at her wit’s end, but she had resolved not to waste any time dwelling on those she disliked once she was free of them.
All that Alexis knew about his mother’s past were things he had pieced together from the warnings he had received prior to visiting the castle for the first time for his debut. One that he still clearly remembered was his mother telling him not to get close to her during their visit, as it would only bring him harm. He had been introduced as Giebe Kirnberger’s son and spent his time in the castle with his father and his father’s first wife rather than with his mother; thus, his connection to the Leisegangs had appeared to be nonexistent. Now that Alexis was older, he could see just how far his parents and his father’s first wife had gone to keep Veronica from noticing him—to keep him safe.
It had been wise of Alexis’s parents to act with such caution. At the time, Veronica had considered it far more important to eliminate key figures within the Leisegang faction than to target the son of a neutral giebe. As a result, Alexis had spoken to her once when first greeting her and then never again. Even when it had come time to seek out potential retainers for her beloved grandson, she had seen him only as the son of the ever-stubborn Giebe Kirnberger.
In short, Alexis had very little experience with Veronica. He had seen her as someone who was by some means more powerful than Lord Sylvester, the aub himself, but his opinion of her had run no deeper than that. As a result, he had thought almost nothing about her later deposition. He hadn’t been able to empathize with either the Leisegang or the Veronica faction, so he hadn’t found it strange that Wilfried was so unattached to his grandmother’s past deeds.
“I won’t deny that Lord Wilfried is dispassionate about past events that didn’t involve him,” Alexis said. “He is also optimistic to a fault. However, he truly was an exemplary lord before he returned from the Royal Academy and witnessed the impact of the purge.”
“What changed, exactly?”
“Above all else, he began to view Lady Rozemyne as an enemy, and in the strangest of ways. He also suddenly began demanding that the other archduke candidates support him when necessary and give him the credit for their accomplishments, since he is the next aub.”
Alexis knew that Oswald had spent years laying the groundwork for his lord to take the archducal seat, but Wilfried had never before tried to steal the other candidates’ achievements; on the contrary, he had been actively against it. He had said as much to Rozemyne during the Royal Academy’s award ceremony... yet now he was arguing that it was only common sense for one’s fiancée and younger siblings to surrender their accomplishments.
“Lord Wilfried confidently declares that such is the way of greater duchies, and that Ehrenfest has followed this practice since long ago,” Alexis said. “Still, I cannot say it feels right to me...”
“The way of greater duchies, hm?” Giebe Kirnberger mused. “It certainly is the case that, when half-siblings are competing for the position of aub, full siblings trade credit among one another. However, through his engagement, Lord Wilfried has already secured his position as the next archduke; there is no need for him to steal the achievements of others.” He then paused, a distant look in his eye, and let out a heavy sigh. “It is widely known that Lady Veronica gave Lord Sylvester the credit for his retainers’ work. So, one could say that Ehrenfest’s archducal family has been using such methods for quite some time...”
Alexis was struck with the urge to put his head in his hands and groan. In a sense, Wilfried had been right; the problem was that his “long ago” referred specifically to the height of Veronica’s power. Such horrible behavior, which was common among retainers of the former Veronica faction, was precisely the reason why so many thought Wilfried was carrying on Veronica’s legacy. At this rate, the Leisegang nobles would only think less and less of him.
“Could I have prevented this by taking more interest in Lady Veronica’s actions?” Alexis asked, searching for personal culpability.
“You would have struggled to challenge Lord Wilfried alone,” the giebe replied. “That said... his change is all too sudden. Do you have any idea what might have inspired it? Even the archduke lost retainers; Lord Wilfried was surely no exception.”
Alexis immediately understood his assignment: identify the source of the change and eliminate it. He fell into thought; so much had happened that might have been responsible.
“In his day-to-day life, the biggest change has been that his head attendant, Oswald, was removed from service—though it was presented as his resignation.”
He had said to his fellow retainers, “I am being relieved of duty for fear that my faction may cause problems. The aub has ordered that I present it as my willing resignation so that our lord does not grow to resent his father.” Then, shortly after, he had begged Wilfried for permission to resign, saying with tears in his eyes, “My service is no longer what’s best for you.” His family had been told to stand down for similar reasons, so Wilfried had lost four adult retainers in total.
“Lord Wilfried cursed himself for being too weak to save his longest-serving and most loyal vassal,” Alexis continued. “It seems to me that it was because his fiancée didn’t share his frustration and pain during the feast celebrating spring that he lost his temper.”
Sometime after, Alexis had seen Wilfried being consoled by his name-sworn retainer Barthold. “The princess of Leisegang is surely celebrating that Oswald has finally been torn away from you,” Barthold had said. “She is of a faction that loathes Lady Veronica, after all.”
Alexis went on, “I would assume that his emotional instability has come from losing the man who was serving him even before his baptism. Lord Wilfried was raised by Lady Veronica, so he was much, much closer to Oswald than to the archducal couple.”
“Hmm...” Giebe Kirnberger pondered. “There is a chance that, without his head attendant to scold or comfort him, the selfishness mounting within Lord Wilfried is finally leaking out. Could this be an unconscious protest, demanding that the aub return his retainers to him?”
Alexis crossed his arms. He knew that the sudden change in his lord was troublesome, but he had never considered the situation from his father’s perspective. Seeking the advice of a third party was always important.
Wanting to make the most of such a rare opportunity to get his father’s advice, Alexis put forward a few other theories. “I think the change in his work environment has been significant as well. Neutral and Leisegang nobles are now the most prominent figures in the castle. Thus, Lord Wilfried is no longer surrounded by nobles of the former Veronica faction.”
“In other words, he’s no longer surrounded by those who will praise his every move,” the giebe said.
Alexis nodded, though he was taken aback by his father’s harsh tone. “Overall, his retainers are of the opinion that positive reinforcement is the most productive approach, but Lord Bonifatius now barks at him almost nonstop.”
“Lord Bonifatius?”
“Yes. The work that Lord Ferdinand did in the temple has been given to Lady Rozemyne, while his duties in the castle have been given to Lord Bonifatius and Lord Wilfried.”
Wilfried had found himself with dramatically more work and dramatically less free time. He also needed to meet with Bonifatius whenever it was time to carry out his new duties, and it seemed that the big ol’ granddad overflowing with love for his granddaughter was suffocating him.
Alexis understood why his lord was so frustrated, but he couldn’t wrap his head around the complaints that Wilfried so often made: “I wish Rozemyne would do this work instead”; “Rozemyne sure has it easy; she gets to relax in the temple”; and “Rozemyne’s going to be the next first wife, yet she doesn’t take her duties seriously.” Wilfried always voiced these gripes with such confidence, but Ferdinand had rarely spent much time in the castle—anyone could guess that his temple work was the greater burden. On top of that, Rozemyne only had one adult scholar: Hartmut. Even including her apprentice scholars, when it came to desk work, she was absolutely starved of manpower.
“Lord Wilfried has three adult scholars and three apprentice scholars,” Alexis continued. “If working with Lord Bonifatius is causing him so much trouble, could he not just order them to take over for him?”
“Did you make that suggestion?”
“The scholars refused. They said they couldn’t possibly do such work without the necessary experience, especially as they would need to take the blame for any errors they might make.”
Just as Melchior’s retainers needed to undergo training before they could start performing their duties in the temple, Wilfried and his retainers would need to be trained for their handover. The problem was that Ehrenfest’s archducal family was small, and the archducal couple couldn’t spend their time educating their son when they were so short-staffed themselves. Bonifatius had been the only person they could ask to give Wilfried archducal lessons.
Giebe Kirnberger shook his head. “If your lord desires better working conditions, then his only option is to speed along his handover training. Has anything else changed?”
Alexis paused, trying to remember what else Wilfried had complained about, then clapped his hands together in realization. “He seems to be intensely unhappy about the aub taking a second wife.”
“Really? I thought it was a welcome move by Aub Ehrenfest, considering how long he spent stubbornly refusing the idea. What in the world does Lord Wilfried take issue with?”
Wilfried hadn’t said anything in the dining hall, where he had first learned about the engagement, but he had grumbled nonstop upon returning to his chambers. “Rozemyne’s already a Leisegang bride,” he had said. “I would have rather seen Father take her as a second wife than Brunhilde. This is Rozemyne’s fault; she’s the princess of the Leisegangs but can’t even keep them under control.”
Alexis’s heart sank as he remembered what had happened next—Wilfried had asked Charlotte to help him convince the aub to rethink his decision, then asked Brunhilde to cancel the engagement. They had both refused, of course, and Alexis had struggled to console his lord after the fact. Wilfried had been on the verge of a panic attack.
“I think he was so displeased because Lady Brunhilde is more or less his age,” Alexis said, “and her engagement to the aub means that one of Lady Rozemyne’s retainers is joining the archducal family.”
“Still, taking a second wife to gain control over a faction and assist with the delegation of desk work is the duty of an aub. The day shall come when Lord Wilfried will need to take one himself.” Ehrenfest’s archducal family was already unusually small; it was hard to imagine the next archduke going without a second wife as well.
“Correct,” Alexis replied. “I personally agree with Aub Ehrenfest’s decision to marry a Leisegang, but the idea is unpopular among my fellow retainers. Many of them oppose the thought of giving the Leisegangs more power and putting Lady Rozemyne one step closer to becoming the next aub.”
All of a sudden, Alexis realized something—out of everyone in Ehrenfest, Wilfried and his retainers were the only ones opposed to Sylvester taking Brunhilde as his second wife. Most of the former Veronica faction had already been detained and punished, so every single giebe understood and approved of the archduke’s decision to take a Leisegang bride to gain more control over the duchy’s dominant faction.
“Perhaps his distaste for second wives is another lingering consequence of being educated by Lady Veronica,” the giebe mused. “That woman refused to allow her husband to take one and came to Lord Sylvester’s defense whenever he refused to remarry.”
“If what you say is true, then it will be almost impossible for Lord Wilfried to escape Lady Veronica’s shadow. His recent change in attitude has led to him being identified as a devout member of the former Veronica faction. In fact...” Alexis fell silent, cast his eyes down, and then muttered, “Now, he views even Lamprecht as an enemy, simply because the latter is Lady Rozemyne’s elder brother.”
Lamprecht had tried to warn Wilfried that circling the Leisegang-ruled provinces for Spring Prayer was a bad idea, and the other retainers had doubted his loyalty ever since. Alexis had at one point tried to stand up for his colleague, only for Barthold to ask, “Does this mean that Kirnberger stands with Lady Rozemyne, then?” Lamprecht had even told Alexis not to bother. “I’m used to this,” he had said. “Worry about yourself, else you’ll end up in the same situation.”
From that point on, Alexis had tried not to interfere—and things had gone exactly as he’d expected. Wilfried’s attempt to bond with the giebes had ended in failure, forcing him to return to the castle with his tail between his legs. Of course, he had immediately tried to blame Lamprecht.
“My lord,” Lamprecht had responded, “your failure was the result of your own refusal to heed our warnings and your underestimation of the Leisegangs’ pent-up frustrations. You would never have been able to undo years of suffering through one Spring Prayer. This is something that must be worked through gradually.”
Alexis had considered that a reasonable explanation; Wilfried would simply need to reflect on his actions and try to do better next time. However, everyone else had dismissed Lamprecht as being cold and stonyhearted.
“I was right not to speak my thoughts,” Alexis concluded.
“Well, what had you wanted to say?”
“‘There’s no use pouting about it now. Lamprecht and Lady Rozemyne’s retainers warned you what would happen, but you charged ahead anyway.’”
“Hmm... An outburst like that would absolutely lead to Kirnberger being treated as an enemy. Continue to keep your mouth shut.”
After grousing even more about Lamprecht’s evaluation, Wilfried had gone straight to his name-sworn retainer Barthold, who had consoled him and stressed that he wasn’t to blame. “It really is a shame that nobody ever appreciates your hard work...” he had said. “If only Lady Rozemyne and Lamprecht had done their jobs properly and laid the groundwork for your visits, this never would have happened.”
That had cheered up Wilfried and encouraged the other retainers to agree. Soon enough, they had all thrust the blame upon Lamprecht. It was all so ridiculous that Alexis had started to wonder whether it was some kind of surreal comedy act. Lamprecht was in a far more pitiable situation than Wilfried, since he was being blamed for something that wasn’t at all his fault.
“Did your lord say nothing to you, even knowing that you have a Leisegang mother?” the giebe asked.
“It seems that, like Lady Veronica, Lord Wilfried views me only as the son of Giebe Kirnberger. He seems to count me among our province’s nobles who flatly declare themselves to be neutral and cast aside any and all involvement in faction politics.”
It was true that Alexis wanted to guard his lord above all else; unnecessary thoughts about faction politics would serve only as a distraction. At the same time, however, he had only been able to secure his current position because of an invitation from Lamprecht. His fellow retainer had said that, following Veronica’s deposition, Wilfried needed more neutral and Leisegang nobles in his service. Alexis had gone along with it.
These events were why Alexis was none too pleased about Lamprecht receiving so much undeserved ire, but Lamprecht had said that it would only be temporary. The archducal family would soon finish reorganizing their retainers, he had declared, and the punished nobles of the former Veronica faction would return to work. Then, Lord Wilfried and the Leisegangs would finally calm down.
“Despite it all, Lord Wilfried has been working hard...” Alexis said. Even after the Ivory Tower incident, his lord had tried to restore his lost honor instead of simply conceding and wallowing in his misery.
Wilfried was in an unfathomably difficult position; he was in the same grade as Rozemyne, meaning he was constantly being compared to her, but he had still secured high enough grades to be recognized as an honor student. He had also been doing an excellent job of uniting the dormitory and was—at least until recently—on good terms with his younger siblings. Even while being reproached by the students whose families had been purged, he had carried out his duties as an archduke candidate and taken Dunkelfelger’s ditter challenges in his stride, even leading the knights to victory.
“That is precisely why seeing my lord degrade himself makes me so frustrated and miserable,” Alexis continued. “I cannot bear it. I loathe it, even. Where is the boy who did everything in his power to protect Lady Rozemyne? I fought by his side during our match against Dunkelfelger and could hardly express the pride I felt after our victory. From the bottom of my heart, I was glad to be a guard knight, to have taken on the challenge, and to have won...”
Back then, Alexis had sincerely believed that everything would be okay, no matter how bad the purge turned out to be. He had blindly assumed that Ehrenfest was unifying around Wilfried and that his lord would guide everyone into a bright future. By this point, however, clinging to such a dream was foolish.
“Father, I now understand why you always described factions as troublesome business. I neither know nor understand what has driven Lord Wilfried to single-handedly revive Lady Veronica’s cursed legacy, but the atmosphere in the castle is suffocating. I wish for nothing more than to resign and return to Kirnberger.”
The giebe sighed, then crossed his arms and tightly knit his brow. It was the same pose he always made before giving out new tasks, so Alexis straightened up on instinct.
“This is as simple as you wishing to abandon your duties as a retainer simply because your lord no longer suits your preference,” Giebe Kirnberger said in a low voice. “In that regard, you are no different from Lord Wilfried, throwing a tantrum because things have not gone as you hoped.”
Alexis inhaled sharply. He wanted to protest but couldn’t think of a reasonable comeback.
“Think of the head attendant who was dismissed,” his father went on. “Was he really trying to make his lord more considerate, or does he secretly continue to whisper poison in his ear, hoping to rot him from the inside out? You mentioned that one of Lord Wilfried’s scholars gave his name to avoid punishment—have you questioned whether this boy can be trusted?”
“What? A name-sworn can’t defy their lord, can they?”
The life of a name-sworn retainer was quite literally in the hands of whomever they served. Alexis had not even thought to doubt Barthold.
“Those children were forced to give their names; the only alternative was death. They acted out of not loyalty but self-preservation. Lady Veronica forced many to give their names to her, but there were some among them who weren’t completely faithful to her. They might not be able to disobey orders, but none can say what they are thinking on the inside. Keep that danger in mind and close to heart.”
Once again, Alexis thought about Barthold, who always seemed to be currying favor with his lord. Now that Giebe Kirnberger mentioned it, the name-swearing had made Wilfried especially trusting of the scholar; Barthold had been given many more important roles than a new retainer would normally deserve.
“Focus on Lord Wilfried’s work environment,” Giebe Kirnberger said. “If paperwork meant only to support the aub is too much for him, then he surely won’t be able to function when the day comes that he is the aub proper. Unless... Could someone be tampering with his work? Ensure that no Leisegang nobles are causing trouble behind the scenes.”
It generally fell to scholars to help their lord or lady with paperwork, but the giebe maintained that knights were meant to have eyes everywhere. Alexis reflected on his own naivety. Standing in the room and searching for signs of a potential attack weren’t enough; he needed to keep an eye on the paperwork itself.
“That said,” Giebe Kirnberger continued, “you must also reflect on your own words and deeds, to ensure that you aren’t provoking the Leisegangs. Have you ever given them the impression that you’ve forgotten the cruelties Lady Veronica inflicted upon their faction?”
Alexis considered that to be very likely. He didn’t know much about them to begin with, but he also hadn’t made an effort to learn.
“Open your eyes and observe all that your lord does,” the giebe said, his tone chastising. “Open your ears to the voices of all who speak to him. Pay close attention to Lord Wilfried, whom you must protect as his knight. If you see him stray from his path, drag him back onto it. That is your job as a retainer. I do not want you to return here a coward who would rather run away from the unpleasant than face it head-on.”
Again, Alexis swallowed hard. “But what if my absolute best still isn’t enough?”
“That’s simple: gather enough evidence to prove that your lord is a failed archduke candidate, then petition the aub to disinherit him and relieve his retainers of duty. If you return under those circumstances, I will welcome you with open arms. Take responsibility for your work.”
It would be easy for Alexis to resign, whereas proving that Wilfried was an incompetent lord would be anything but. He would need to observe him carefully and investigate his surroundings closely.
After speaking with his father, Alexis had realized that he hadn’t been trying hard enough as a retainer. People would surely label him a failure of a guard knight before they even considered branding Wilfried a failed archduke candidate.
“I apologize for my shameful remarks,” Alexis said to the giebe. “From this day forth, I will put my absolute all into serving Lord Wilfried.” In truth, he was frustrated to have been scolded and accused of working in half measures, but he now saw a future he could advance toward.
Alexis had arrived at Kirnberger feeling suffocated, but now he knew what needed to be done. First, he would carefully investigate Wilfried’s surroundings. Then, he would work with Lamprecht to figure out what had caused their lord to change so drastically. His lips curled into a competitive smile; he now had something that he needed to do.
Reflection and Envy
The news that Father would be taking Brunhilde as his second wife had made the blood drain from my face. A fake smile and superficial congratulations were enough to get me through the rest of our meal, but my calm quickly fell apart once I was back in my chambers.
“Vanessa, what should we do?” I asked my head attendant. “At this rate, Father is going to take Brunhilde as a second wife—and it will be all my fault.”
During our family meeting, my frustrations had finally become too much to bear. I had exploded at my parents and criticized my father for not taking a second wife to ease the growing fears of the nobility. My outburst was surely the reason he had now rushed into this engagement with Brunhilde, a member of the Leisegang faction who had yet to take a fiancé and was young enough not to impact Mother’s pregnancy or delivery.
“Lady Charlotte, do calm down,” Vanessa replied. “Regardless of whether your criticisms played a role in this, it was ultimately the aub’s decision to take a second wife. Furthermore, there is no mistaking that he needs to marry a Leisegang to put the other nobles back in order. I see no reason for your unease when, after years of skirting the issue, your father has finally listened to you.”
She was right; I certainly had said that my father needed to take a Leisegang as his second wife. As a result, one of my sister’s precious retainers was now in a terribly difficult position.
This new engagement would do plenty to benefit the archducal family, but Brunhilde had very little to gain from it. She would be welcomed as a second wife to put the Leisegangs in order, but she was still underage; I struggled to see how she would manage to control the older members of her family. It was equivalent to someone ordering me to make Lord Bonifatius and my uncle agree with one another, despite my being so much younger than them both. The very thought made me dizzy.
To make matters worse, although everyone had agreed that bringing Brunhilde into the family fold would make the Groschel reconstruction a lot easier to manage, nobody had acknowledged that my parents had disrupted the schedule to begin with. No matter how one dressed it, Brunhilde was being made to marry Father to remedy the consequences of my mother’s pregnancy.
As I understood it, Brunhilde had accepted such active roles in the printing industry and reconstruction effort because she was due to become the next Giebe Groschel. No matter how much her new engagement benefited the province, she was surely devastated to be losing her position simply to satisfy Father’s sudden demands. I recalled my own heartache after losing my chance to become the next aub because of my brother’s engagement.
Father has a tendency not to realize how people feel on the inside. He likely has no idea how much I detest his prioritizing Wilfried over me...
Because it was already decided that Wilfried would become the next Aub Ehrenfest, Brunhilde would never even have a chance to mother the duchy’s next ruler—a great honor in itself. The future that most second wives would wish for and strive toward would be closed off to her from the outset.
On top of everything else, Father was completely devoted to Mother and had spent so very long declaring that he neither wanted nor needed a second wife; not even someone as young and attractive as Brunhilde was likely to win his affections. Perhaps this was uncouth for me to say about my own father, but his love had always bordered on the obsessive.
Brunhilde was a dazzling star of the Royal Academy with plenty of admirers, not only from other duchies but from the Sovereignty as well. Yet here she was, resigning herself to a loveless marriage—and to a man old enough to be her father. The mere thought of ending up in such a position myself sent a shiver down my spine.
“Rather than taking Brunhilde, Father should have found an older widow unable to bear a child,” I concluded.
Vanessa shook her head at me. “You may not approve of this engagement, Lady Charlotte, but there is nothing that you can do to prevent it; Giebe Groschel has already expressed his approval. If you feel that you have wronged Brunhilde, then think of ways to improve her future. Help her in ways she will sincerely appreciate.”

The feast celebrating spring ended in a commotion after Father’s engagement to Brunhilde was announced. The nobles then started returning to their respective provinces, and the castle became a little bit quieter. In the meantime, I summoned Brunhilde to my room; she was visiting the castle to examine the western building.
“I realize that these are busy times, so please forgive this inconvenience,” I said.
“Oh, no. I was overjoyed to receive your invitation,” Brunhilde replied and sat down with a smile. “I, too, have much to discuss with you.”
I got my attendant to pour us some tea, and my eyes wandered to the necklace adorning Brunhilde’s breast. It contained the engagement feystone that Father had given her—and, as long as she wore it, she was in an equivalent position to the rest of the archducal family.
“First of all, allow me to apologize,” I said. “It is likely my fault that you were asked to become the second wife to begin with. I never thought my outburst would cause you to shoulder such an immense burden. My actions were unforgivably shallow.”
“There is nothing for you to worry about, Lady Charlotte. The aub made this decision himself.”
I shook my head, conscious that she was only being considerate. “If my father desired a Leisegang woman who would not affect Mother’s pregnancy, he could have chosen an older widow with more socializing experience. At the very least, she would have found it easier to make your family comply...”
That much was a given; I wouldn’t be able to face off against Uncle or Lord Bonifatius, but I would easily be able to deal with Wilfried, Melchior, or their future children. Not to mention, nobody would bat an eye about a widow older than Mother not receiving Father’s love or favor.
“Lady Charlotte... do you expect my socializing to be inadequate?” Brunhilde asked.
“Not in the least. We have arranged tea parties together in the Royal Academy. I am well aware of your talents.”
Brunhilde’s assistance had allowed me to smoothly interact with top-ranking duchies when I was still only a first-year. Ehrenfest had socialized only as a bottom-ranking duchy before then, but she had advised me on how to act and guided me through the unknown. I could no longer count how many times Rozemyne’s retainers had saved me, be it through their experience attending tea parties with top-ranking duchies or their knack for providing tea and sweets to the tastes of our guests.
“Bringing the Leisegangs under one banner will save Ehrenfest and do much to assist Father and me,” I said. “However, I cannot see what you gain from it. Uniting an entire faction is an overwhelming task for an adult, much less a mere student.”
After sipping her tea, Brunhilde gave me a troubled smile. “Though I appreciate your concern for me, Lady Charlotte, an aged widow simply would not do. Plus, there is no need to unify the Leisegangs.”
I was stunned, unable to respond with anything more than a quizzical stare. We didn’t need to unify the Leisegangs? I wanted to ask what she meant, but she continued unprompted.
“Lady Veronica’s reign of tyranny over the Leisegangs lasted much too long. The elders among them—those who endured her abuse the longest—are too angry and resentful to even consider agreeing with the archducal family. To be frank with you, if we did allow the Leisegangs to unite under a second wife, it would inspire them to take drastic action—to eliminate as much of the current archducal family as would be necessary to position Lady Rozemyne as the next aub with Lord Bonifatius as her support base. The situation could get much worse than it is already.”
Her warning shook me to my core. “Would the Leisegangs target Mother and me as well...? We also suffered Grandmother’s abuse.”
“The two of you would potentially escape their wrath, but not Lord Melchior. Because he is male, they would consider him a threat.”
Perhaps it was because Mother and I had been victims ourselves, or because we had so many Leisegangs in our service, but I was shocked to hear that Melchior and I would also be scorned. As it turned out, the Leisegangs hated the archducal family as a whole, irrespective of our individual relationships with Veronica.
“Right now,” she continued, “Ehrenfest needs a second wife from the younger generation—someone who considers Lady Veronica’s reign a thing of the past, who understands that Lady Rozemyne doesn’t want to be the next aub, and who can work with the archducal family to move our duchy forward instead of merely serving as a figurehead so that her family can sow dissent.”
I couldn’t help but sigh in awe. Brunhilde understood the danger of the Leisegangs so much better than I did as a member of the archducal family.
“My engagement was announced, and it subsequently became known that I am taking a more active role in the reconstruction of Groschel,” Brunhilde said. “As a result, the internal power balance has split between those who desire Lady Rozemyne as the next aub and those who wish to maintain the status quo now that the archduke is more pliable to our desires. My intention is not to unify the Leisegangs under one banner. Quite the opposite. I want to keep them apart so that they don’t pose a threat to the archducal family.”
Brunhilde was carefully observing her house and considering her every move... but I could not understand why she was so devoted to the archducal family.
“You were meant to become the next Giebe Groschel and, with any luck, take a groom of your own,” I said. “Surely becoming my father’s second wife is not what you truly desire.”
One of my guard knights, Lengurt, was a Groschel native, so I considered myself quite knowledgeable about the province. Brunhilde was the daughter of the giebe’s first wife and was being raised as his successor, since he had no male heirs to speak of. The kind of education needed to rule was not the same one needed to be married into another house. As someone who had gone from being a potential archduchess to merely the future wife of a foreign noble, I was well aware of the troubles that came with a sudden change of position.
On top of everything else, Giebe Groschel surely hadn’t accounted for his daughter being taken by the aub. The province was bound to struggle without its successor, I thought... but Brunhilde gave a faint smile and shook her head.
“There is no need for you to be so troubled, Lady Charlotte. The truth is... this engagement is my only hope.”
I simply blinked at her, not having expected that at all.
Brunhilde’s expression turned contemplative, then she gave me a sound-blocking magic tool. Her bright, noble smile never so much as faltered as she said, “You must keep this a secret from everyone, even Lengurt. My father’s second wife has given birth to a son.”
I took a sharp breath. In other words, Brunhilde was losing her chance to become the next Giebe Groschel irrespective of this engagement. I was no stranger to the heartache of one’s hard work suddenly coming to naught, simply because of an unfair disparity between the genders. Back then, nothing had worked to console me, so I could only stare at Brunhilde as I racked my brain for a response.
“Erm... I do not know what to say...” was my eventual reply. “At the very least, I can understand how you feel. There have been times when I wished that I were born a man.”
“Ah, yes... You were in an unfortunate position yourself. I relate to your feelings of powerlessness all too well.”
We gave each other wooden smiles. Though we had only exchanged a few words, our similar plights had given us something to bond over.
“Father rejoiced at the birth of his son, then coincidentally decided to postpone the announcement of his successor,” Brunhilde explained. “My replacement has not yet been made official, but neither can I take a husband in Groschel—doing so would give rise to all sorts of conflict. On that path, my only option is to wait for the future, when either my little sister takes a groom or the boy starts to grow up. In either case, I will not be the giebe. Oh, what a fit Mother threw.”
Were the son to become the next Giebe Groschel, his mother, the second wife, would take precedence over the first. Brunhilde’s mother would become more and more neglected after her daughters were married off.
Ah, that reminds me—one of the reasons Father put Wilfried with Rozemyne was to protect Mother’s position.
I sighed. The moment Brunhilde was ousted from her position as the next Giebe Groschel, she would need to start worrying about her mother’s future. She wouldn’t even have a chance to grieve her own loss.
“Of course,” Brunhilde continued, “Mother rejoiced when I told her about my engagement to Aub Ehrenfest. The mother of the archduke’s second wife would never be neglected, would she?”
Becoming the archduke’s second wife was normally cause for concern. How would one’s status change when the position of aub passed to the next generation? Brunhilde, however, was a retainer serving my sister, our duchy’s future first wife; barring any extraordinary circumstances, she would continue to thrive even after the generational shift.
“Thus, I rather welcome this engagement,” Brunhilde remarked. “You must consider my situation from every angle. Would you not agree that such an influential position—one that will give me power over future giebes—is something to be excited about? I will stand above even my father, whose whims I have for so long been a slave to.”
Her amber eyes narrowed into a mischievous squint, and an impish smile spread across her lips. Like me, she was losing the future she had spent her entire life working toward, but she showed not a trace of despair. How were we so different? Compared to me, she was like a dazzling light, refusing to let the present drag her down as she marched ever onward.
“More than Groschel,” she continued, “I worry about how you and Lady Florencia feel. Is my sudden rise to second wife not displeasing to either of you?”
“Oh, no. How could we ever be displeased about this engagement? You are giving us such crucial assistance during these formidable times. Only a true fool would speak ill of your decision.” No sooner had the words passed my lips than I clapped a hand over my mouth in realization; there was one member of the archducal family who had been protesting Brunhilde’s new position. “Could it be that... Wilfried said something to you?”
Brunhilde’s smile widened ever so slightly—a silent yes.
Wilfried had told me that he was going to protest to Father, but it had never even crossed my mind that he might complain to Brunhilde. The engagement was a decision to be made between parents; no matter what he said to her, she was unable to end it herself.
“My brother, the next archduke, would complain to you about an engagement decided by the aub, for the sake of the duchy...?” I muttered. “Unbelievable. I cannot express how sorry I am. Perhaps because of the education they received from Grandmother, neither my father nor Wilfried views second wives in a positive light.”
Wilfried was so opposed to the idea that he had even tried to make us come together as siblings to protest the engagement. He had gotten very emotional, saying things like “No good can come from taking a second wife,” “Aren’t you worried about Mother? That’s cold...” and “Rozemyne can take care of unifying the Leisegangs.” It concerned me that he prioritized his emotions over political decision-making.
And it was fairly exasperating when he told me that our sharing a mother obligates me to obey him...
The purge had greatly reduced the size of the former Veronica faction, and now Mother and Father were doing their best to get the Leisegangs, our next big threat, under control. This was all to ensure that Wilfried would become the next aub, but he seemed painfully oblivious to that fact.
“Lady Veronica’s education, hm...?” Brunhilde asked, covering her mouth with her hand to indicate surprise. “I never would have expected such opinions from Lord Wilfried, considering how hard he fought for Hannelore to become his second wife...”
I agreed; it was surprisingly common for Wilfried to say one thing and then do the complete opposite. “In the past, whenever he said or did something that concerned me, I assumed that he was letting Oswald manipulate him. He seems concerned about Leisegang nobles securing more power, which suggests that his former Veronica faction retainers are continuing to influence him. I had thought that his twisted thought processes would improve after Oswald was relieved of duty. Now, we can only hope...”
“Relieved of duty?” Brunhilde repeated, her eyes wide. “I was told that Oswald resigned.”
“He was relieved of duty in secret and allowed to pass it off as a resignation. Wilfried is guaranteed to become the next aub now that he is engaged to Rozemyne, but Oswald was simply too dedicated to Lady Veronica’s methods. For that reason, I pleaded with Mother to remove him, but we could not act so openly. Relieving him of duty before the purge would have risked him leaking information to others in the former Veronica faction, so Mother determined it best to instead isolate him from the others at the Royal Academy. There, he was cornered and told to choose between resigning or being relieved of duty upon his return. He chose the former. Though, do keep all this a secret.”
“I thank you ever so much,” Brunhilde said, smiling. It seemed that I had obtained her trust by offering her a secret in return for the one she had given me. “Even now that Oswald is gone, Wilfried comes across as far more emotional of late. Do you know why that is?”
He had started ordering me to help him as his full sister, but I wasn’t sure whether he was making similar demands of those in Rozemyne’s service. “Perhaps there is an issue with the new head attendant. Oswald would often tell me to cede my accomplishments, but Wilfried was unaware of this. Now, however...”
“We should conclude that, rather than working in the shadows, Lord Wilfried’s retainers are directly instigating him to act in this way?”
Through this discussion with Brunhilde, it felt like I was beginning to see the truth beneath my brother’s irritating behavior. Our conclusions were little more than baseless extrapolations, however; further investigation was necessary.
“I do not know the details myself,” I said, “but it seems very likely. This is so blatantly unnatural that even Wilfried will come to distrust his retainers. I shall keep an eye on the situation.”
It really is worrisome that the supposed next aub is the most concerning factor in all this.
I exhaled slowly and picked up my teacup. We both took a moment to enjoy our drinks, and thus ended our discussion about my brother.
“To return to your original concern, Brunhilde... Fear not. My mother and I take no issue with your engagement. I still maintain that the burden is too great for someone of your age to bear alone, and I regret taking such a capable attendant from my sister, but those are separate matters...”
Not only was Brunhilde leaving to become a second wife, but Rihyarda had also returned to Father’s service. Rozemyne had already been in desperate need of more retainers, so her situation right now was surely dire.
“I intend to serve Lady Rozemyne until I graduate,” Brunhilde assured me with a consoling smile. “And if you are concerned about Rihyarda, she returned to the archduke’s service of her own volition. She said that Lady Rozemyne spends very little time in the castle and would scarcely feel her absence as a result.”
So my father hadn’t ordered Rozemyne to give up Rihyarda... Perhaps I was viewing him a little too harshly.
“Lady Charlotte... does Lady Florencia truly welcome me?” Brunhilde asked.
“Certainly. Mother has been pushing Father to take a second wife for years to help resolve the archducal family’s mana shortage. For that second wife to be of the same faction and capable of dealing with the Leisegangs, well... what more could she ask for? You are very welcome indeed.”
Finding a second wife who would not butt heads with the first was no easy task, but Brunhilde was perfect. She was of the same faction and could provide support to both Mother and Rozemyne. Not to mention, unlike with my sister, there was no need to teach her about female socializing. Her being underage also removed any worries of the engagement affecting Mother’s pregnancy. Indeed, there was no better choice in the world.
“It is relieving to hear that,” Brunhilde said. “In which case, might I ask you to help me integrate into the archducal family? I would have asked Lady Rozemyne, but she isn’t here in the castle for me to consult, and the last thing I want to do is burden her further...”
“Naturally. I will provide you with my full support,” I replied at once with a firm nod. “If you ever require my assistance, then you need only contact me. I, too, would like to make things easier for my sister.”
To say that Rozemyne was busy right now was an understatement. She was having to take on Uncle’s temple work and educate Melchior. She had also mentioned taking the playroom children into the temple.
Of course, that was still only scratching the surface. Even when it came to the printing industry or welcoming merchants from other duchies, Rozemyne was expected to do far too much. In particular, Mother and Father were focusing on internal noble politics this year, which meant that Rozemyne was almost entirely responsible for the more hands-on duties such as directing the commoners.
“In an ideal world,” I said, “I would be helping Rozemyne in the temple, but there is so much desk work to be done here in the castle as a result of the purge. Plus, I must admit, I am not yet used to how things operate there. I would only drag everyone else down.”
“Lady Rozemyne believes that people should focus on their strengths and allow others to compensate for their weaknesses, as evidenced by Philine and Damuel playing such valuable roles in her retinue.” She giggled, a teasing look in her eyes. “To be honest with you, Lady Charlotte, you have already been tremendously useful to us; Lady Rozemyne works with such dedication when we say it is for your sake.”
It seemed that I was being useful to Rozemyne after all. How wonderful.
She continued, “I would also like to assist my lady. Lady Rozemyne cannot socialize with the Leisegangs—or, rather, any such socializing would not benefit either party.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. Rozemyne was often unpredictable, but there was always a reason for her actions. And, in the end, her ideas would usually lead to good conclusions.
“As you know, Lady Rozemyne was raised in the temple. She didn’t spend any time with her wider family before her baptism. Even after she was baptized, the political climate meant she was forbidden from meeting with them on all but a few carefully selected occasions. I cannot say I have ever seen her socialize with them.”
I knew that Rozemyne had been keeping her distance from most of her family to avoid them hailing her as the next Aub Ehrenfest, but it was news to me that she had never socialized with them at all.
“As a result,” Brunhilde continued, “Lady Rozemyne cannot empathize with her house’s anger toward and obsession with Lady Veronica, nor can she truly understand what they desire. In all likelihood, the Leisegangs will end up disillusioned with her and despair. I speak from experience, for I went through such a period myself.”
Again, I was surprised. In my eyes, Brunhilde had always been Rozemyne’s loyal retainer.
She elaborated, “Not only is Lady Rozemyne unable to grasp her house’s desires, but she also seems ill-equipped for conventional socializing—likely because she was asleep in her jureve for two years and entered the Royal Academy without proper experience.”
“But she made use of her own, unique methods to obtain connections with top-ranking duchies and the royal family. I could not hope to mimic that form of socializing myself. Even after seeing it up close at the Royal Academy, I cannot say that I understand it.”
Unlike my sister, Brunhilde had socialized with her family since she was a child—as was normal. Furthermore, because she had received a giebe’s education, she was an expert at using traditional methods to deal with other nobles. Then there was my sister, who had been raised in the temple, was completely unpredictable, and was very difficult to secure a meeting with. It was easy to guess which one a Leisegang who wanted influence over the archducal family would prefer working with.
“That said,” I continued, “I agree that Rozemyne would struggle to perform the more traditional socializing that the Leisegangs expect of her.” Because she had received no formal training and had needed to learn on the spot, her socializing was entirely unlike that of a normal bottom-ranking duchy.
“As stated earlier, I wish to keep the Leisegangs divided, but Lady Rozemyne is not suited to such delicate maneuvering. It seems best to have her stick to socializing with other duchies.”
I agreed. Going forward, Ehrenfest needed to present itself as not a spineless duchy eager to obey those at the top of the rankings but a strong duchy that was determined to make its voice heard.
“At present, I do not believe there is much point in teaching bottom-ranking socializing to my sister,” I said. “Doing so will only cause confusion when she is meeting with the royal family or top-ranking duchies. Instead, we should push for the generational shift and start bringing the rest of the duchy up to her level.”
Brunhilde gave a firm nod of agreement. It was reassuring to know that we shared the same goal... but I wished that I could share her strength as well.
“Were you not frustrated to lose your position as the next giebe and have the job of containing the Leisegangs forced upon you?” I asked. “Erm... when my future as an archduchess was taken from me, it was quite some time before I regained my footing. I was hoping to learn from your experience so that I might do better in the future.”
Brunhilde knit her brow as if pondering her answer. “It would be a lie to say that I wasn’t disheartened. Even now, I wish to help Groschel grow and turn it into a city that can host merchants from other duchies. However, while I may have lost my future as a giebe, I am still Lady Rozemyne’s attendant. There are duties for me to complete and a path for me to tread.” Her lips curled into a bitter smile. “In truth, I was so busy attending my lady at the Royal Academy that I seldom had time to feel down.”
“In that case, will you not feel the loss more keenly once you become a second wife and cease being her retainer?”
“Not at all. I do feel some pressure due to the lack of time, but I do not feel sad.”
“‘The lack of time’?”
“Yes. There are only three, maybe four years before Lady Rozemyne comes of age, resigns from her position as High Bishop, and starts living in the castle as the next aub’s future wife. That is how long I have to take control of the Leisegangs for her and learn to socialize like a proper woman of the archducal family. I must compensate for Lady Rozemyne’s weaknesses and ensure that she can live a life of comfort. Those are my duties as her retainer.”
Even after her graduation, Brunhilde would remain Lady Rozemyne’s retainer at heart and do everything in her power as the archduke’s second wife to make her days easier. Her resolve was stronger than I expected, and seeing her proud, confident smile made me feel envious and inferior.
“Lady Charlotte... will you offer me your assistance?”
“But of course. Let us support Rozemyne together.”
I gave Brunhilde a smile and a nod, but my facade did nothing to ease the discomfort inside of me. It was like there was a heavy weight pulling down on my heart.

I now understood that Brunhilde wanted to become Ehrenfest’s second wife and that she had her own reasons for supporting the archducal family. My initial concerns had thus been resolved, but I was still in low spirits long after our discussion concluded.
Vanessa eyed me carefully. “You still seem down, milady. Might I ask what the two of you discussed? I know nothing of what transpired after the sound-blockers came out.” She sounded concerned, but what could I say to her?
I proceeded with the utmost caution, not wanting to spill any of the secrets we had promised to keep. “Just as Lengurt feared, Brunhilde will no longer be the next Giebe Groschel, but she is not particularly depressed about that fact. She said that she remains Rozemyne’s attendant and still has that path to follow. I was ever so shocked...”
Vanessa gave me a look of surprise; she knew exactly how I had felt after losing my future as an archduchess. “I was aware that Lady Brunhilde had a strong spirit, but even so...”
“She told me that she is becoming the second wife for Lady Rozemyne’s sake, to help her when she comes of age and leaves the temple. I promised to assist her with this effort.”
“Your discussion was productive, then?” Vanessa asked, watching me closely.
I nodded; speaking with Brunhilde really had eased my initial concerns. “There is no need for me to worry about her. Brunhilde is strong, has a clear goal in mind, and will put her all into her duties. All of my fears have been allayed, so why am I still so forlorn? I cannot help but feel that I have lost to her in some way, and it makes me all the more envious.”
Vanessa cast her eyes down and contemplated my admission. “Were you engaged in some form of competition, milady?”
“Not at all. But, well... I have been trying to be useful to Rozemyne, but I can offer only a pale shadow of the resolve and proactiveness that Brunhilde embodies. Now, I feel as though my determination to repay my sister has been much too weak.”
“Retainers and sisters have different roles to perform,” Vanessa replied with a chuckle—but there was more to my concerns.
“Being able to work with Brunhilde to support Rozemyne was exactly what I wanted, but... for some reason, I feel as though I have been left out. I am overcome with nothing but envy for Brunhilde.”
“Is your envy tinged with admiration? Or does it feel more akin to jealousy?” Vanessa probed. She was urging me to reflect on my feelings, so I thought back to the first time they had plagued me.
“My feelings were most similar to admiration. There was such determination in her eyes as she told me her plan to continue supporting my sister long into the future, and it made me feel so... incapable. I simply do not know how to face the future with such courage.”
“There is only so far you can plan ahead, milady. You are due to marry into another duchy, and your partner has not even been decided yet. This is not something worth fretting over.”
“Ah...”
That was true. I would eventually marry into another duchy to benefit Ehrenfest. In other words, while Brunhilde and my sister were going to have a future together, I was destined to be sent away.
“I had hoped that Brunhilde, Rozemyne, and I would never be separated...” I murmured. “That we would always work together like we did in the Royal Academy...”
Female members of archducal families were tasked with marrying into other duchies to strengthen diplomatic ties. Small archducal families had the option of bringing a groom into their duchy so that he could offer support, but with Melchior growing up and a skilled politician such as Brunhilde supporting Rozemyne as the second wife, Ehrenfest no longer needed me. My value would come entirely from the connections made through my future marriage.
I understood that it was my duty to marry into another duchy... but I disliked the thought from the bottom of my heart. Learning that fact about myself was troubling.
“It seems that I have grown so sad and envious precisely because Brunhilde is such a splendid retainer,” I said. “I will one day need to leave Ehrenfest, meaning I cannot remain Rozemyne’s sister forever.”
“You need not corner yourself, milady.”
I smiled at Vanessa in response, but she must have seen through my charade; her brow furrowed in a way that made it clear she was hurting. It was the same face she had made when I was taken out of the running to become the next aub.
At this rate, I will simply worry my retainers again. I must get back on my feet somehow.
As soon as that thought crossed my mind, I remembered what Brunhilde had said to me: “However, while I may have lost my future as a giebe, I am still Lady Rozemyne’s attendant. There are duties for me to complete and a path for me to tread.”
“Be honest with me, Vanessa—will Rozemyne still be my big sister, even when I am in another duchy and no longer a member of the archducal family?”
“Hm? That goes without saying. Given how close you are, I can confidently declare that not even duchy borders will sever your bond as siblings.”
Those words alone filled me with hope. “And will I still be able to support her?”
“But of course. The purpose of your marriage will be to tie Ehrenfest to another duchy. It will depend on where you end up, but once Lady Rozemyne becomes the first wife, the two of you will have opportunities to support one another.”
“Father said that he will do everything in his power to grant my requests when deciding which duchy I am to marry into. My desire is to go somewhere where I can continue working with my sister.”
If my sibling bond with Rozemyne would survive even after my departure from Ehrenfest, then I had no reason to lose to Brunhilde. There would surely be times when the first wife of another duchy would be more helpful than the second wife of the previous aub.
Now that I had something to work toward, the feelings of envy and inferiority that had tormented my heart were nowhere to be found.

Bookworm 5.11

The Disciples of the Gutenbergs
I brought Melchior to the table with Dad and the others, introduced him as the son of the archduke and the next High Bishop, then said that he would be speaking with them as my successor.
“Ah, so Lord Melchior is the one who will take your place when you come of age,” Dad said. “That is heartening to hear. We have found it much easier to coordinate with the archduke and the Knight’s Order thanks to these conversations with you. We found it very beneficial during the winter and when that noble from another duchy came to the western gate.”
Dad then looked at Damuel, who was standing behind me. “Might I use this opportunity to thank Lord Damuel in person? I don’t know when I’ll next have the chance.”
I turned around to see what Damuel thought. He seemed a bit troubled by the idea, but he didn’t speak out against it.
I returned my attention to Dad, ready to give him permission, only to find that he wasn’t the only person now focused on my knight. The soldiers all stood up, then knelt before the two of us.
“Though you said you were only acting on Lady Rozemyne’s orders, Lord Damuel, we soldiers of the lower city hold you in the highest esteem. Thank you.”
What in the world happened...?
Taken aback by this unusually intense thank-you, I turned to Damuel and Angelica. In retrospect, there was no point in expecting anything from Angelica; her head was profoundly empty, and her bright smile was a clear indicator that she had no idea what was going on.
“Gunther,” I said, “what was it that Damuel did, exactly?”
“I performed my duty and nothing more,” Damuel interjected.
“If that were true, I doubt the soldiers would have thought to thank you. As your lady, I absolutely must hear these tales of your heroics.”
Dad shot a glance at Damuel, who clearly didn’t want to discuss this matter, then began to explain. “In the winter, we received a command to stop any nobles from escaping through the north gate. The Knight’s Order distributed plenty of magic tools for us soldiers to use—so many that, by the time they were done, we each had one for summoning aid. The issue was that any fleeing nobles could simply mount their highbeasts and fly over the gate. Plus, even if we called for aid with our new tools, the north gate is at the very edge of the Noble’s Quarter; there was no guarantee that help would immediately arrive.”
During the winter, most of the Knight’s Order had mobilized for the purge. There were always two knights stationed at the north gate, but they alone wouldn’t have been able to stop the flood of escaping nobles. Thankfully, when the call for aid had come, Damuel had arrived immediately and before anybody else.
“It wasn’t anything special,” Damuel said modestly. “I was in the temple preparing for the Dedication Ritual, so I just happened to be close to the north gate.”
Though he was doing his best to downplay it, Damuel had arrived in a flash and attacked the fleeing nobles from behind, supporting the commoner soldiers who had wilted in the face of their onslaught. He had come across as quite the savior.
“Thanks to Lord Damuel, none of the soldiers manning the north gate sustained any fatal wounds,” Dad explained. “He was also first to arrive in response to the west gate incident. The soldiers are all extremely thankful.”
I was surprised to hear just how much Damuel had done—and just how much trust and gratitude he had earned from everyone as a result. Moved, I asked the soldiers to resume their seats. Then I asked about the status of the lower city and conveyed that Groschel would soon be reconstructed, which meant we were going to have enormous work orders for some of the craftspeople. Melchior listened as well, with great interest.
As I continued to speak with the soldiers, time got away from me. A retainer whispered something to Melchior, who then rose from his chair and announced, “I must be going now; I promised Father that I would return in time for dinner. Rozemyne, thank you for today. I learned so much.”
“I was glad to see you showing such a thirst for knowledge,” I replied. “This is my gift to you, my hardworking little brother: a protective charm.” I’d given the charms for Wilfried and Charlotte to Philine so that she could distribute them before they left.
“Thank you very much,” Melchior replied, sounding all proper. “Also, I will speak with Father about what the soldiers said today. If you could check the accuracy of my reports upon your return, I would appreciate that greatly. Now, if you will excuse me.”
And with that polite farewell, he hurried up onto his retainer’s highbeast and went home.
Wait, what? He wants ME to check his reports? Am I just imagining it, or is Melchior waaay too mature? Am I actually doing a good job of being a reliable older sister?
I saw Melchior off, so in awe of his maturity that I started to feel uneasy about myself.

The next morning went as expected: I saw my attendants and chefs into a carriage, then watched as the gray priests started their return journey to Ehrenfest.
“Soldiers,” I said, “once again, I must praise your excellent guard work. Please accept this token of my thanks.”
I started to hand money to each of the soldiers. Then, when it came time to give Dad his share, I discreetly slipped him a pouch containing two charms as well. He seemed to notice right away and thanked me while sliding it into his chest pocket. Mom and Tuuli had already received their charms from me—and, since the commoner charms were all the same, Dad could just consult one of them if he wanted any help using his. I was also pretty confident that he would be able to guess whom he needed to give the second charm to.
From there, I continued to hand small pouches of money to the rest of the soldiers, keeping half an eye on Dad all the while. He barked for everyone to stand at attention and informed them that their job here wasn’t yet done.
“We will see them safely to the temple,” he assured me.
“Thank you, Gunther. I wish you a smooth journey.”
It had only been brief, but I was glad to have had another opportunity to speak with Dad. I watched as he disappeared into the distance with his men and the carriage, then climbed into my highbeast and made my way toward the next winter mansion.

After finishing my assigned portion of Spring Prayer and returning to the temple, I sent word to the Plantin Company. I’d expected to need three days to recover from the trip, but I was feeling right as rain after only two; my health really was getting better, to the point that I no longer fell ill simply from traveling around.
On top of that, I was only bedridden three times while we were traveling around the duchy. Eheheh.
“Lady Rozemyne, the Gutenbergs have arrived,” Gil announced. “Most of the luggage has been brought out of the workshop. We expect to be leaving soon.”
At once, I exited the meeting room and started toward the front entrance, with my retainers who were accompanying me to Kirnberger and the scholars working in the printing industry in tow. Lieseleta and Gretia were serving as attendants; Hartmut and Roderick as scholars; and Cornelius, Leonore, and Judithe as guard knights. Judithe was still underage, but she was being allowed to tag along because Kirnberger was her home province.
Damuel and Angelica had circled the Central District for this year’s Spring Prayer, so they were taking some well deserved time off. As for Ottilie and Philine, they were staying behind to keep Clarissa under control. To be honest, I wished that Hartmut were staying at the temple instead of coming with us, but he’d somehow managed to worm his way into our group.
He was right that I’ll probably need an archscholar with me, but... I’m still not too pleased about this.
Also coming with us were Henrik and the other layscholars already familiar with the printing industry. By this point, I recognized all of their faces. Muriella was going to be accompanying Elvira as her scholar; it was good to see that the printing knowledge she had acquired at the Royal Academy was benefiting her.
“I’ve been working really hard,” Judithe called to me with a proud smile, her orange ponytail swaying from side to side. “Ever since it was decided that Kirnberger would be our next destination, I’ve been gathering intelligence from Brunhilde and Leonore, and making arrangements through Theodore so that everything is ready for our arrival.”
Judithe went on to explain that she had told Giebe Kirnberger about the issues faced in Leisegang and Groschel—as well as how to avoid them.
“Giebe Kirnberger was very receptive,” she continued, “especially after learning that he would be blamed for any imperfections in the commoner craftspeople’s work environment.”
Brunhilde had apparently argued that there were no faults in the Gutenbergs’ teaching methods or the tools they brought with them, indicating the progress made in Illgner and Haldenzel as evidence. She had then stated that provinces only struggled to adopt the printing industry when they were unprepared or unwilling to learn. The problems faced in Groschel had apparently left a great impression on her.
“Kirnberger has everything ready for the Gutenbergs to do their jobs,” Judithe concluded.
“Excellent work,” I said. “That is wonderful to hear.”
Judithe puffed out her chest in response. Ehrenfest would only continue to improve now that we had more nobles bridging the gap between us and the commoners.
We headed through the front entrance to find the luggage all ready to be loaded and the Gutenbergs kneeling in very neat rows. Benno was acting as their representative; he greeted me and then turned to look behind him.
“Lady Rozemyne, please allow us to introduce the disciples who are accompanying us for the first time,” he said. “Blessed be the waves of Flutrane the Goddess of Water who guided us toward this serendipitous meeting.”
I cast an eye over all those kneeling before me. The people behind the Gutenbergs were probably the disciples. They were all young boys who looked close to coming of age, and seeing them reminded me of Johann and Zack when I first met them.
“Ingo,” Benno called. The carpenter stood up in response, along with his disciple.
“Lady Rozemyne, this is my disciple, Dimo,” Ingo explained. “He has been involved in the creation of your printing presses since the very beginning. He knows everything there is to know about their design, and making them comes as easily to him as breathing.”
I took a closer look at Dimo and instantly recognized him. He was one of the carpenters who had been with Ingo back when he set up printing presses in the Rozemyne Workshop and Hasse’s monastery.
“Dimo, is it?” I asked. “I remember the extreme care with which you sanded down the temple workshop’s first printing press, all so that we wouldn’t need to worry about splinters. I was aware that Ingo had his eye on you but not that you were now trusted enough to join him on these excursions.”
Ingo and Dimo both stared at me, as if surprised that I remembered the young disciple. It was a pretty unnecessary reaction, if you asked me; I remembered everyone who had been involved in the making of that first printing press, in the same way that I remembered just how much its creation had moved me.
“I gave Dimo the printing press schematics,” Ingo said. “I also taught him the process and how to coordinate with the workshops of other provinces. As per your request, I’m going to stay in Ehrenfest and focus on my work here.”
“Indeed. Your task is going to require the collective efforts of every carpenter in the city of Ehrenfest. I trust you will once again demonstrate why I chose to give you my exclusive business.”
I also wanted Ingo to make bookshelves for my library, but that could wait. For now, he needed to focus on the competition between the carpentry workshops as they all tried to make the best furniture for Groschel’s high-class inns. They were going to be extremely busy in the lead-up to the autumn entwickeln.
“Dimo, I expect great things from you as well,” I said.
“I will do my best to be recognized as a Gutenberg.”
It was good to see him so motivated. I gave him an affirming nod just as Benno called for Josef. Ingo and Dimo knelt down again, while Josef and his disciple stood up instead.
“Lady Rozemyne, this is Horace,” Josef said. “He is going to be replacing Heidi and me on this trip.”
Horace was a completely new face to me. He certainly wasn’t the craftsperson I remembered seeing back when I visited Heidi at her ink workshop.
“He was chosen based on the fact that he can focus on his work without acting out or becoming absorbed in research,” Josef noted. “He shouldn’t encounter any issues when teaching others, and there’s no risk of him becoming obsessed with new ink as Heidi would. Any research will take place back here in Ehrenfest, assuming any materials are brought back from Kirnberger.”
Sending an ink fanatic like Heidi to Kirnberger would have been much too dangerous, especially if she had gone without someone to rein her in. That was why Josef had chosen Horace to go instead—he needed someone who could stand on an equal footing with the Gutenbergs and operate without constant supervision. His struggles as a husband never seemed to end.
“Josef,” I said, “allow me to congratulate you on your wife’s pregnancy. Has she calmed down at all, I wonder?”
“Thank you,” he replied, then flashed me a look of complete exhaustion. “If she were the kind of person to exercise more caution now that she’s with child, I would be going to Kirnberger instead of Horace.”
It seemed that not even pregnancy could slow the unstoppable force that was Heidi. She had even wanted to come here today to greet me. The only reason she had refrained was because Josef and Lutz had desperately explained that pregnant women weren’t welcome in the temple.
“Horace, for Josef’s sake, be sure to focus on your duties,” I said with a smile. “Do not become so obsessed with research that you forget to eat.”
Horace had seemed particularly tense, perhaps because he had yet to produce any meaningful results in the field of new ink. Seeing my smile made him relax, though, and he nodded in response.
After my conversation with Josef and Horace, it came time for Zack and his disciple to stand. “Lady Rozemyne, this is Sead,” Zack said. “He may not be quite as skilled as Danilo, but his personality makes him the best person to arbitrate between Johann and Kirnberger.”
Sead appeared to be amicable enough—a desirable trait for someone who was going to support Johann as he taught everyone how to make metal letter types. Putting two quiet, stubborn craftspeople together would have been a recipe for disaster, as even the smallest disagreement would have likely spiraled into complete chaos. Instead, Johann needed someone whom he could lean on and who would make his life easier for the next half year.
Zack continued, “To be honest, Lady Rozemyne, I simply think I can be of more use to you here in Ehrenfest.” He was a creative through and through and excelled in designing schematics, so he wanted to spend his time inventing rather than managing Johann’s interpersonal relationships.
Zack had accompanied us in the past—we wanted the nobles we were dealing with to recognize him as a Gutenberg—but he made a good point. He certainly would be better off staying in Ehrenfest and designing schematics.
“Perhaps I should give you a new order, then...” I mused aloud. “Ah, what am I thinking? You must be busy enough preparing for your marriage. The new inventions can wait until next year. Please focus on getting ready for your new life with your bride-to-be—and expect a flood of blessings on the day of your wedding.”
Zack was the first of my Gutenbergs to be getting married—I would need to put my all into blessing him and his partner. He smiled in response and said that he would make sure to brag about it when the time came.
“Sead,” I said, “opportunities to experience the craftsmanship of other workshops are few and far between. You can expect to find things in Kirnberger that you would never encounter in Ehrenfest’s lower city. Be sure to absorb as much as you can.”
“Understood.”
The last to rise were Johann and Danilo. I was already familiar with Danilo—his name and progress had been brought up before—but this was the first time he was going on one of these trips.
“Lady Rozemyne, this is Danilo,” Johann said. “I am bringing him with me so that he can learn to be my successor.”
“Can I take this to mean he has finally mastered making letter types?” I asked. I remembered hearing that Danilo had just barely failed to meet Johann’s expectations, but his presence here today must have been a good sign.
Johann nodded. “I intend to have Danilo do as much as possible while I take a back seat and focus on training Sead.” Rather than being entirely focused on honing his craft, he was now putting so much thought into training his disciple. Everyone had grown so much.
“We can never have enough skilled smiths,” I said. “I wish you luck in training both Danilo and Sead. You are the oldest of your peers, after all.”
Johann gulped—he had always left dealing with others to Zack—but then gave me a resolved nod.
I turned to his disciple. “Johann and the others have told me much about your growth, Danilo. Please continue to improve as one with my exclusive business.”
“Ever since our exchange with those craftspeople from Groschel, I’ve been asking to travel to other places,” Danilo said. Then, brimming with enthusiasm, he exclaimed, “That day has finally come! Now that I’ve come of age and secured a place on this trip, I promise to do my best!”
Danilo was the very antithesis of the quieter and more introverted Johann. It was so much fun comparing all of the craftspeople’s unique personalities.
Thus concluded our introductions. I distributed charms to the layscholars, as well as to the retainers and the Gutenbergs. The nobles received different charms from the commoners, for obvious mana-related reasons.
“Consider these protective charms a show of my appreciation for your consistent hard work,” I said. “Now, let us prepare to leave.”
I made a huge Pandabus, then asked that the luggage be moved into it. The disciples followed the directions of the more experienced Gutenbergs and got straight to work. They appeared a bit hesitant, but the fact that they didn’t kick up a fuss seemed to indicate that they had been told what to expect.
The atmosphere was quite peaceful while the luggage was being loaded into my highbeast, but then we took off. No sooner were we airborne than Danilo began flailing his arms around, his face locked in a silent scream. He had picked a great time to learn that he was scared of heights.
Johann looked at his disciple, then put his head in his hands and said, “You could stop looking out the window to start with.” He seemed pretty exasperated, but it wasn’t that big of a deal.
Kirnberger’s Country Gate
“Theodore, this is Judithe. We’re almost there.”
From the passenger seat of my Pandabus, Judithe sent an ordonnanz ahead to Kirnberger. By the time she received a response—an assertion that everything was ready for our arrival—the province’s summer estate had already come into view.
“There it is,” Judithe said. “The giebe should be waiting for us in the side building for priests.”
We soon reached the summer estate and convened with Giebe Kirnberger, who had with him the two scholars in charge of the province’s printing industry and several others. The giebe looked and carried himself a lot like a knight; he had a large, muscular build and a rather stern face. His father and predecessor had very openly maintained that Bonifatius was best suited to serve as Ehrenfest’s archduke, and it seemed that his passion had rubbed off on his son. The current Giebe Kirnberger was said to hold Bonifatius in extremely high regard.
So he’s a musclehead, I guess.
After we exchanged greetings, Giebe Kirnberger started giving instructions. Fran, Monika, and the chefs were to be guided to the side building for priests, while the scholars by his side would show the Gutenbergs to the lower city.
“As I understand it, the Gutenbergs have brought much luggage with them,” Giebe Kirnberger said. “I think it would be best for them to go to the lower city first; the chalices and our meeting can come later. What do you think?”
“I agree,” I replied. “The Gutenbergs will surely want to see their new accommodations. I thank you ever so much for being so considerate.”
Fran and the others started moving our luggage, at which point Lieseleta approached me. “Lady Rozemyne,” she said, “rather than venture to the lower city with the others, Gretia and I would like to prepare your chambers before dinner. May we?”
I gave them permission—as attendants, they had their own duties to take care of—and they were led away by members of the estate. In the meantime, I asked the Kirnberger servants to help carry our luggage.
“Now, then—let us go to the lower city.”
Kirnberger’s lower city had seemed so very large and populous from above, but actually traveling through it revealed that not many people lived there. An almost eerie silence hung in the air.
“If your Gutenbergs have any issues, they need only let us know,” Giebe Kirnberger announced, then chuckled and said, “We have more than enough vacant buildings, so we can have them moved to another house in no time.”
The accommodations we were shown to looked perfectly fine, and the Gutenbergs promptly began moving their things into their new home and place of work. Gil and the other gray priests helped as well. Their movements were so smooth and elegant that, even without their robes on, they stood out a little here in the lower city.
Though, by the time we come to retrieve them, they always blend right in.
“I did not expect such a massive city to have so few residents. Is there a particular reason?” I asked the giebe, hoping to kill some time.
He gave me a warm smile, like an old man gazing upon his beloved granddaughter. “This city used to be so much more animated; there was international trade abounding and a never-ending flood of people going to and fro. But then, long ago, the ruling Zent sealed the country gate. It was a time before Ehrenfest, I should add. We were a province within the greater duchy of Eisenreich.”
“I was taught the history of Ehrenfest, but the name ‘Eisenreich’ received no more than a passing mention at the start...” I mused aloud. “I certainly didn’t know it was a greater duchy.”
If the country gate hadn’t been opened since the days of Eisenreich, then that meant it had been closed for at least two hundred years. Several of the other gates were closed too, but that was only because the missing Grutrissheit was required to open them. The giebe assured me that Kirnberger had its own, unique reason for its gate being closed, and that alone filled me with excitement; I could smell one heck of a story.
Oh no. I’m starting to get too amped up.What should I do?
“Can you tell me more about these unusual circumstances?” I asked, staring up at the giebe. I couldn’t wait to find out more—but then Lutz announced that everyone had finished moving the luggage.
Giebe Kirnberger snorted in amusement and gazed toward the far end of the city. “Judithe did mention your interest in the country gate. How about we go there after we’ve discussed the printing industry? It should make an excellent backdrop for the tale.”
I’ll need to get a notepad ready!
I smiled and gave a simple nod—though, on the inside, my heart raced at the very thought of learning a new story.
After showing the Gutenbergs to their new home, we visited the giebe’s summer estate. There, Benno and the Plantin Company discussed the establishment of guilds with Kirnberger’s scholars while I delivered the chalices to Giebe Kirnberger and concluded Spring Prayer. This was an annual occurrence for me, so I was more than used to it.
“Now, let us go to the country gate at once,” Giebe Kirnberger said.
I climbed into my Pandabus, then we were off. Seeing the province from above for a second time, I couldn’t help but compare it to Ehrenfest. The buildings were as one would expect—largely wooden structures built atop foundations of white stone—but everything else was backward. Back in Ehrenfest, reaching the aub’s castle would require one to pass through the lower city and then the Noble’s Quarter. Here in Kirnberger, however, the city’s entrance led straight into the Noble’s Quarter and to the giebe’s estate. The farther you ventured, the more common the city became.
“It intrigues me that Kirnberger has its estate so close to the front of the city...” I said. “The estates in Illgner, Leisegang, and Groschel are all much farther back.”
“A long time ago, visitors from other countries used to flock to Kirnberger,” Judithe explained from the passenger seat. “As a result, the inns for foreign merchants and the homes for the commoners doing business with them were built on the side of the city closest to the country gate, with the giebe’s estate securely behind them. That’s what I was taught, anyway...”
All of a sudden, she pointed ahead of us. “Oh, there it is! Can you see that gate with a weird hue, on the other side of the white one made by the aub? That’s our destination!”
Beyond the white border gate, which looked just like the one leading into Ahrensbach, I saw another gate of a similar size. “Wow...” I murmured. “The ivory structures made by the aub are beautiful, but gates and walls made by the Zent are on another level entirely.”
The border gate and Kirnberger’s outer walls were pure white, like the walls around the city of Ehrenfest, but the structures beyond them blew me away. They shone with a faint, mother-of-pearl iridescence and seemed to stretch in both directions as far as the eye could see. It brought to mind the Great Wall of China, but rather than twisting and adapting to the contours of the land, it continued in an unnaturally straight line. A single glance was all that was necessary to realize it was an artificial creation, and seeing it was terribly disconcerting.
This border was definitely drawn by the first Zent.
It was taught in geography that Yurgenschmidt and the barrier around it were perfectly circular—like someone had pressed a round cookie cutter into a bigger continent—but this was my first time seeing the country’s border with my own eyes. I’d assumed it would be invisible like the borders of duchies, but even the walls were awash with a plethora of colors.
“The country gate truly is beautiful,” Judithe said. “You can’t really see it from within the city limits—the lower city’s wooden extensions get in the way.”
I remembered visiting Kirnberger during my first Spring Prayer, but I’d never seen the country’s border before; the lower city’s four-story buildings were about as tall as the gate, so it couldn’t really be seen from the giebe’s estate. Of course, it probably hadn’t helped that Ferdinand had been in charge of greeting the giebe, and most of my time had been spent drinking rejuvenation potions in the carriage or being told to keep my head down.
The grand white doors of the border gate were completely open, with what looked to be knights guarding it from the front. Farther beyond it were the iridescent, firmly closed doors of the country gate. They were covered with complex patterns that must have served the same purpose as the designs on Schwartz’s and Weiss’s clothes: disguising the magic circles beneath.
“Is the Kirnberger border gate always open like this?” I asked Judithe.
“No, today is a special occasion. According to Theodore, Giebe Kirnberger asked for the aub’s permission to open it so that you could see the country gate. I’m so moved—I really wasn’t expecting to see it up close like this!”
The border gate was said to be closed most of the time, meaning one rarely had a chance to see the country gate head-on.
“Even growing up in Kirnberger, all you ever see are the closed border gate and the walls around it,” Judithe grumbled. “The border gate is basically the same height as the country one, so you’d need to stand at the perfect angle just to catch a glimpse of the colorful glow.”
As a kid, Judithe had been desperate to see the country gate. Becoming a knight had simply been an excuse for her to get close to it.
She continued, “I got to see the country gate for the first time after getting a highbeast in the Royal Academy. It was so impressive that I almost cried. U-Um... By the way... This is true for most knights from Kirnberger. I’m not strange or anything. Theodore is the same way!”
Judithe’s orange ponytail swished around as she repeated over and over again that she wasn’t alone in her obsession. I could tell that she was wishing she hadn’t revealed her entire motivation for being a knight, and seeing her trying to backpedal was amusing beyond words.
“Is that so?” I asked with a small smile. “But, as I recall, Theodore said that he wished to serve Giebe Kirnberger as his father does.”
“Ngh... He was just acting cool. In truth, he feels the same way I do. Honest!” She sounded so desperate that I decided to let it go for now.
I’ll double-check with Theodore later.
“Lady Rozemyne, remember to land your highbeast after the giebe,” Judithe said.
I did as instructed and touched down atop the border gate. A few Kirnberger knights greeted us upon our arrival, waiting in a neat line, and among them I saw Theodore. I smiled at him, then he smiled back. It was good to see him enjoying his apprentice work.
“Lady Rozemyne, allow me,” Giebe Kirnberger said after I put away my Pandabus, then slowly escorted me to the edge of the gate. Perhaps because we were so high up, the wind was strong and very chilly. The country gate glimmered in front of us.
Border and city gates often contained several work and waiting rooms, but the country gate looked to be only three or four meters thick. Plus, while the roof of the border gate beneath me was flat and large enough for several knights and their highbeasts, its iridescent counterpart had a pitched roof. It hadn’t been designed to be landed on.
“Beyond this point, we see what is known only to the knights of Kirnberger,” the giebe explained as we took one more step toward the edge of the gate. From there, we could see what existed beyond Yurgenschmidt—a sprawling ocean of sand. It reminded me of the dust that formed when something was completely empty of mana.
“I expected to see another country beyond the wall...” I said. “Didn’t you say that Kirnberger used to trade with foreign visitors? Did their country run out of mana and end up a desert...?”
A small part of me didn’t want an answer, especially when I thought about how much Ahrensbach was degenerating from its lack of mana. Maybe the neighboring country had turned to sand after the gate was closed.
Giebe Kirnberger shook his head and smiled. “No, I don’t believe so. The country gate is a massive teleportation circle for connecting two countries. One cannot pass through it without the Zent’s permission, no matter how much mana one has. I only know this from tales that have survived the generations, but when the gate is open, there is an enormous magic circle that floats above it.”
Foreigners from other countries would teleport to Yurgenschmidt through the country gate, then pass through the border gate to enter Kirnberger. In short, one had needed the permission of the Zent and the ruling aub to access the province.
“Was there ever anyone who ended up stuck between the two gates?” I asked. “Perhaps someone who had permission from the Zent but not the aub.”
Giebe Kirnberger laughed; maybe he hadn’t expected such a question, or maybe he was imagining a merchant floundering between the two gates. “Perhaps a merchant that foolish existed at one time, but we have no records of such an entertaining tale or anything like it ever happening. Besides, anyone in that situation would need only return through the gate from whence they came.”
“In that case, what stories can you tell me?” I asked, taking out my diptych and eagerly looking up at him.
“We have many tales about the celebrations that were held to welcome the Zent. The country gate would be opened in spring and then closed again at the end of autumn, and the Zent would come each time to perform the process.”
Kirnberger’s lower city still passed down tales of spring from long ago. The season had once marked the beginning of trade for the year, since foreign merchants would pour in when the gates opened, so the residents had needed to prepare themselves. It followed that there were also plenty of stories about merchants hurrying home in the autumn. Those who failed to leave before the Zent closed the gate would need to endure a harsh winter for which they hadn’t prepared. There were plenty of stories sympathizing with and making fun of merchants who had needed to spend all their earnings to survive the cold.
“The visiting merchants would also forget all sorts of belongings in their rush to leave,” the giebe continued.
“Yurgenschmidt has quite a few country gates, doesn’t it?” I asked. “The Zent must have been very busy having to open and close them all each year. I feel nothing but sympathy for him; I end up bedridden just from circling Ehrenfest.”
The Zent had an astoundingly hard job. Even traveling by highbeast, having to tour the country with a huge retinue of guards and retainers sounded exhausting.
“There’s no need to worry about that,” Giebe Kirnberger cackled. “To my knowledge, there are teleportation circles within each gate. They can be used only by Zents wielding the Grutrissheit.”
Oh, of course.
The Zent had the power to create teleportation circles between duchies—and, since the country gates existed outside of the aubs’ borders, he probably hadn’t even needed their permission to make them.
Oof. Is it just me or is having the Grutrissheit a game changer?
I really hadn’t understood why so many people were up in arms about Trauerqual not having the Grutrissheit; it had seemed to me that the country was doing at least okay under his rule. Now that I was finding out more about the duties expected of the Zent, however, I was starting to understand its importance.
“Still, why was Ehren—no, Eisenreich’s country gate closed?” I asked. “It must have been crucial for trade.”
Ahrensbach was maintaining its reasonably high rank almost exclusively because it had the last open country gate in Yurgenschmidt. Such gates were clearly of tremendous importance, so what had happened to warrant this one’s closure?
Giebe Kirnberger pointed at the gate and said, “Those doors once led to a country known as Bosgeiz. During those days, this land was a greater duchy known as Eisenreich, and its territory included most of what is today known as Frenbeltag. The border also reached even farther north than Haldenzel, into an area with a colossal mine which produced the duchy’s exports.”
Eisenreich had sold ore from the mine and products made from the extracted metal to Bosgeiz. It had also used some of the metal to fashion weapons, which the people of Haldenzel had used to defeat feybeasts.
“There is one key factor to note,” the giebe explained. “Any country doing business with Yurgenschmidt wants one export above all else: feystones. They don’t seem to exist elsewhere—or are exceptionally rare, at least—so even the small stones from feybeasts weak enough for commoners to slay can be sold for a considerable profit.”
This was my first time hearing about such countries, and my mind was immediately flooded with questions: How did they use feystones if they didn’t have them otherwise? Did this mean that Ahrensbach was selling feystones to Lanzenave? I noted them down on my diptych as Giebe Kirnberger continued in a quiet voice.
“The duchy’s decline all started when Bosgeiz convinced Aub Eisenreich to overthrow the Zent,” he said. I stared up at him in shock, but he merely stroked his chin for a moment before continuing his tale. “The aub of the time wielded enough power to realize this goal, so he invited the instigators from Bosgeiz to Eisenreich and established a foothold in the Sovereignty. His focus? Securing the Grutrissheit for himself.”
Aub Eisenreich had wanted to depose not a contentious ruler like our current king but a true Zent who had actually carried the Grutrissheit. Bosgeiz had sent Eisenreich tons of provisions and other resources, while the aub had used the teleportation circle to the dormitory to gradually move knights and supplies to the Sovereignty.
“Did nobody warn the aub against taking such extreme action?” I asked.
“Many tried, but he ignored them all. His daughter sensed that he could not be stopped, so she flew to the Sovereignty on her own and, in secret, informed the Zent of the trouble that was brewing. Her news enraged the Zent, who immediately closed the country gate before returning to the Sovereignty and, with the Sovereign Knight’s Order, launching a surprise attack on the Eisenreich Dormitory. The onslaught continued until the aub was dead, and the Eisenreich archducal family was executed for treason, as were all the important Eisenreich nobles who had been moved to the Sovereignty.”
“What happened to the aub’s daughter—the one who informed the Zent?” I asked. “Was she also deemed guilty by association?”
“She alone narrowly escaped execution. In fact, to show his appreciation for her loyalty and her decision to reveal her father’s scheme, the Zent declared her the new Aub Eisenreich.”
That was a huge relief; had she been executed as well, it would have left an awful taste in my mouth. But the giebe’s tale didn’t end there.
“You must understand, however—that post was no great honor. The greater duchy Eisenreich was divided in two, becoming a middle duchy and giving rise to Frenbeltag. As for the ore-rich mountains to the north, those were given to Klassenberg. The daughter had also been engaged to a member of the royal family, but that union was swiftly canceled. Instead, she was paired with an archduke candidate more appropriate for a mere middle duchy.”
The daughter’s life had been spared, but she had been made the aub of a torn duchy that had lost its core industries. Her loved ones had all been executed, leaving the duchy without an archducal family to support it, and she had even lost her engagement to a prince. Worst of all, no matter how much Eisenreich had struggled, the Zent had refused to offer even the slightest assistance. Her assignment had come as more of a brutal punishment than anything else.
Giebe Kirnberger continued, “Eisenreich was scorned as a duchy of traitors, and it quickly became a shadow of its former self. Losing ore as an industry also thrust farming into the limelight, so the Leisegangs’ power swelled almost overnight. Of course, there were Eisenreich nobles who were none too pleased about this.”
The archducal family and other key nobles had all been executed, but plenty more Eisenreich nobles had remained. Most had yearned for their former glory and complained ceaselessly about the current state of the duchy.
“And the duchy’s nobles hadn’t been the only ones to complain—the abrupt closing of the country gate had stranded countless visitors from Bosgeiz. Those who had wished to return to their former home gathered in Kirnberger, the province closest to the gate. Minstrels came as well, eager to hear firsthand accounts of such a grand event and spread them through song.”
Songs about the suffering of the Bosgeiz citizens and the foolishness of Aub Eisenreich’s decision had apparently become a tremendous hit all throughout Yurgenschmidt.
“The descendants of the late Aub Eisenreich formed a new archducal family. They grew up hearing tales of their duchy’s former glory as well as the minstrels’ songs. So, when it came time to choose the next aub, they fell into two camps.”
“Two camps?” I repeated, tilting my head at him.
Giebe Kirnberger offered a grave nod. “One wanted to beg the Zent to reopen the country gate so that the Bosgeiz visitors could return home. The other believed that the visitors should be punished for having corrupted the former aub in the first place.”
The archduke candidates had taken one of two sides, recruiting either those who wished to reclaim the duchy’s former glories or those who thought it wiser to simply ride out their punishment. This had culminated in a war that split the duchy in two.
“The aub bemoaned her lack of power,” the giebe said. “After failing to stop her father from plotting treason, she had then failed to keep her children and grandchildren from ripping the ailing duchy in two. She gave her position and status back to the Zent and requested that someone else be assigned to rule.”
The Zent had come to Eisenreich with the Sovereign Knight’s Order and the first ever Aub Ehrenfest. Together, they had crushed the Eisenreich nobles who wished for the gate to be opened again, then used the Grutrissheit to change the location of the foundation such that Eisenreich would never again seek its former glory. Its name was changed as well.
“It is said that Eisenreich’s castle was once located somewhere in the province we now know as Groschel. With that in mind, perhaps Groschel was indeed a fitting location to house Lady Gabriele when she came from Ahrensbach.”
I wrote everything down, then gave my notes a quick look over. “These events don’t quite add up with what I was taught. As I understood it, the first Aub Ehrenfest attacked Eisenreich and stole the foundation himself.”
“That isn’t entirely incorrect—he did come with the Zent and the Sovereign Knight’s Order to take the foundation from the ruling aub. But it certainly does give a different impression.”
I shut my diptych with a snap and looked up at the giebe. “I happen to know about Eisenreich already. Many of the stories I’ve collected speak of a foolish aub who defied the Zent, but they use the name of a separate duchy that I never associated with Ehrenfest.”
In truth, I had assumed it was no more than an educational tale meant to deter people from committing treason; I never would have imagined that it was actually based on ancient Ehrenfest. I wanted to compare it with the stories told in other duchies.
“Does Kirnberger have any written records of this story?” I asked.
“It has mostly been preserved through oral tradition, with parents telling their children, and giebes telling those who serve them. We have records, but they are rather old, and the antiquated language makes them difficult to read.”
They exist!
I wanted to read these records from where the event had taken place, so I made my appeal without a moment’s hesitation. “Giebe Kirnberger, would you allow me to read them? I’m something of an expert when it comes to ancient language. I also wish to compare the oral accounts, the archducal family’s version of events, and the records that remain with the royal family.”
Giebe Kirnberger took a step back. “E-Erm... Of course. If you wish.” He seemed a bit put off, but I didn’t care about that; he had given me his word that I could delve into the records.
“I thank you ever so much, Giebe Kirnberger. I will need to transcribe them during my short stay here.”
The giebe looked down at me quietly. “And what do you think of the story?”
“Well, it made me realize the true importance of the Grutrissheit. A king without one cannot open country gates, redraw borders, or remake foundations. If an aub attempted to depose our current Zent, he would not be able to respond as forcefully as the Zent from long ago. I can only imagine how much he is struggling to rule Yurgenschmidt.”
It had really hit home for me that a Zent’s authority came from the Grutrissheit. Because the current king lacked it, he had no choice but to endure slights against him and couldn’t take firm action against greater duchies. Trauerqual sure had it rough.
Giebe Kirnberger must not have expected my answer; he looked taken aback. “It sounds as if you are focusing on King Trauerqual specifically...”
“Is there something wrong with that?” I asked, quizzical.
The giebe sighed, then looked at me intently and said, “Allow me to change the question. What quality would you say is required of Aub Ehrenfest, who must rule a duchy that can no longer use its country gate after an act of treason against the Zent?”
“What quality...?” I repeated. This might have been one of those questions that I couldn’t afford to get wrong, so I paused to seriously consider my answer. “Could it be the capacity to understand that foreign trade is no longer an option? A skilled aub would surely focus on improving the duchy without it.”
Giebe Kirnberger gazed toward not the gate but the sprawling city in the opposite direction. “As he who rules Kirnberger, it is my belief that Aub Ehrenfest is expected to serve the Grutrissheit-wielding Zent without allowing others to influence their position. That is why I remain uneasy about Lord Wilfried taking the role. He is too easily swayed by the Leisegangs, nobles of his own duchy.”
Wilfried was working so hard to earn the Leisegangs’ support, but his efforts were having the opposite effect on Giebe Kirnberger. That reminded me—one of the giebe’s sons served Wilfried as a retainer.
“Did you hear something from your son, by chance?” I asked.
“Nothing that you haven’t already been made aware of, I imagine...” The giebe then fell silent and showed no signs of elaborating. He couldn’t provide any more details, but his source was already clear to me; I would need to gather the information I required myself.
I’ll need to listen to Cornelius’s report later.
“Lord Wilfried may have my son in his service, but that doesn’t mean he automatically has my support,” the giebe said, his voice now low and stern.
I straightened my back; this was a discussion about my fiancé, and it was my duty to support him. Before I could speak, however, Giebe Kirnberger continued.
“Tell me, who convinced the aub to marry Giebe Groschel’s daughter after he so foolishly and obstinately refused to take a second wife? Who decided to give up members of her own retinue to support the archducal couple and even retreated to the temple to avoid any unnecessary conflict? Lady Rozemyne, I would ask that you become the next aub instead.”
Umm... No?
Sylvester’s decision to take a second wife was entirely the result of Brunhilde’s go-getting attitude, Rihyarda had returned to the aub’s side entirely of her own volition, and Clarissa was only working with Philine under Leberecht because taking her to the temple would have been a political disaster.
“Giebe Kirnberger, I am afraid you are mistaken on several counts,” I said. “The aub came to his own decision to take a second wife, after considering the duchy’s needs and circumstances. In fact, I even tried to stop Brunhilde, knowing that the aub had eyes for only his first wife.”
The giebe received this news with a look of surprise, so I pressed the attack. I explained why Rihyarda and the others were working alongside the archducal couple... but, even then, he didn’t seem convinced.
“So you say, Lady Rozemyne, but the royal family trust you more than they do any other Ehrenfest archduke candid—”
“Giebe Kirnberger,” I said, broadening my smile. I’d started my life in this world as a commoner; I was not going to become the next Aub Ehrenfest. “Is it not obvious that my brother, the next aub, would seek to obtain the Leisegangs’ support? Furthermore... were I to accept your request, would I not be allowing another person to influence me, thereby demonstrating my unworthiness to rule? How are you hoping I’ll answer, exactly?”
The giebe’s eyes widened, and after a moment of silence, he laughed. “I now understand your position, Lady Rozemyne. The wind is quite strong here; let us return to my estate. I will ask for those records to be dug up for you.”
At last, he seemed to have realized that he would never convince me, no matter how much he tried. I produced my highbeast and climbed inside, relieved.

Soon after our return to the giebe’s estate, the records I’d sought were delivered to me. I skimmed the old-looking boards, then Roderick and Hartmut helped me to transcribe them. We needed to work as quickly as we could; we were going to leave Kirnberger once Benno and the scholars finished their meetings and negotiations, and the Gutenbergs set up their new place of work. This process became quicker each year as the scholars working in the printing industry adjusted to their jobs, so we really needed to hurry.
The surviving records weren’t collections of stories but rather simple descriptions of what had occurred each year, focusing in particular on the lives of the former Eisenreich nobles and those who had been unable to return home to Bosgeiz. They seemed to be transcriptions of reports that had previously been given to the Zent.
As expected, these records don’t quite match the oral history.
The events were covered impassively and in chronological order, which made everything seem so much drier than in verbal accounts. The records did, however, elaborate on the role that Bosgeiz had played, which had received almost no mention in my history lessons and the giebe’s retelling.
In the years before Aub Eisenreich’s treason, there had apparently been a massive increase in the number of merchants visiting from other countries, with the same merchants visiting several times from spring to autumn. This had also aligned with an increase in how much food was traded. After the gate was closed, because only the absolute richest of the stranded Bosgeiz merchants had been able to afford citizenship, most had become traveling merchants and scattered to the four winds to earn a living.
That makes sense. Not having citizenship means they wouldn’t have been able to rent homes or stores, find employment, or get married.
How many years had passed since Otto first told me about traveling merchants? Vague memories of all that he had said to me came to mind. Perhaps he was a descendant of the Bosgeiz stragglers.

In the end, we managed to complete our transcriptions with time to spare. It soon came time for us to leave, so I returned to the temple with Benno, as per usual. I asked him to deliver some of Kirnberger’s specialty materials to Heidi in her ink workshop, we discussed the training of those from Groschel, then I saw him off.
“And thus concludes my Spring Prayer,” I announced to Zahm and Fran upon returning to my High Bishop’s chambers. “I should have a bit more free time now.”
“Lady Rozemyne,” Zahm replied, “we will soon be accepting the apprentice blue priests, so things are sure to get busier again.”
“Oh, but you and Fritz took the lead in directing the gray priests who will soon be their attendants, did you not? I would assume those preparations are already complete.”
Zahm nodded with a wryly amused smile. The chefs we had received from Freida and their gray shrine maiden assistants had already begun their training, which meant there was more food in the orphanage. We could also expect new vendors to come by the temple, as ingredients were being bought from stores favored by the home families of the apprentice blue priests.
“Their rooms now contain furniture and study implements,” Zahm informed me. “We have arranged their schedules such that they will have as much freedom as possible while adjusting to the ways of the temple. Lady Philine even offered to advise us on what is needed to educate noble children.”
During my absence, Philine had taught my temple attendants all sorts of things.
“Well, if the preparations have all been made, I suppose I shall welcome the children,” I said. “The temple will get much busier starting tomorrow.”
I wanted to be around to keep an eye on things when the apprentice blues moved into the temple, which was why I’d asked for them to stay in the playroom while I was away for Spring Prayer. I sent an ordonnanz to the castle and asked for the children to be brought over by carriage.
That should take care of them. As for the rest...
“Now then, Cornelius—how is Wilfried doing?” I asked. It was a question that I hadn’t been able to pose in the giebe’s estate, where anyone might have been listening.
All of my retainers twitched, and the atmosphere in the room suddenly became a lot heavier. Everyone was hiding their true feelings behind a mask of composure, but I started to feel tense.
“Is it as Giebe Kirnberger said...?” I pressed. “Is he being unduly influenced by Leisegang?”
Cornelius gave a slight smile and shook his head to calm me down, then answered in a bright tone, “It seems that, rather than being influenced by them, he is caught between his pride and duties.”
And what does that mean, exactly?
“I’m not sure I follow, but... is there anything I can do?” I asked, my brow furrowed. “Lamprecht did ask for our help. I don’t mind assisting them in ways that don’t interfere with my temple duties, but I don’t know what I can actually do.”
Cornelius shrugged. “To put it simply, Lord Wilfried will need to settle these matters himself. It would be best for him if you did not interfere.”
I gave him a searching look, sure that he was hiding something from me. “Is that really true? Did Lamprecht say that?” I then turned to Leonore, who had been with him.
“Wilfried seems to be unsatisfied in various regards,” she added with a smile, “largely as a result of the aub speaking about his Leisegang tasks and taking Lady Brunhilde as a second wife. He has not voiced these concerns to the aub, but he does often mumble them to his retainers. To make matters worse—though we expected this from the start—the Leisegang nobles whose provinces he visited for Spring Prayer did not have any kind words for him. They spoke at length about why you should be the next aub.”
The key members of the former Veronica faction had all been punished in some form or another, so it didn’t surprise me that the Leisegangs had chosen to demean Wilfried at every opportunity—presumably through obscure noble euphemisms. He was, after all, the only archduke candidate to have been raised by Veronica herself.
“It wouldn’t have been easy on my schedule, but perhaps I should have found a way to accompany him on those visits...” I said. “I might have been able to protect him.” Maybe I could have managed with enough rejuvenation potions and some carefully timed rests.
Cornelius grimaced and shook his head. “That wouldn’t have helped. If Lord Wilfried wants to become the next aub, he needs to follow the Leisegangs himself. Having to rely on you would have wounded his pride and undermined his attempts to improve his reputation. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Perhaps, but the Leisegangs wouldn’t have been so openly critical...” I wouldn’t have been able to help Wilfried get in their good graces, but I could have at least stopped them from disrespecting him so much.
Cornelius raised an eyebrow at me. “This isn’t something for you to worry about, Rozemyne. The temple is in an unfortunate state with so few blue priests, and you already had enough on your plate. Plus, it was Lord Wilfried who offered to circle the provinces for Spring Prayer so that he could meet with the giebes. He could have just traveled around the Central District and then had you accompany him on his visits to the Leisegangs, but he opted against it.”
I knew that Cornelius was trying to comfort me and even thought he was making some very reasonable points, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being too hard on Wilfried.
“In that case,” I said, “perhaps I could advise him that he doesn’t need to improve his reputation with the Leisegangs right away. The aub may need to piece our shattered duchy back together posthaste, but Wilfried should have plenty of time to gain support before he needs to become the aub.” Maybe he would feel more at ease after being told that he didn’t need to rush.
Leonore gave me a troubled look. “I agree that he does not require their support right away, but I believe it would be best for you to keep your distance from him when you can. According to Rihyarda, he is at a complicated age. If you interfere now, it might end badly for everyone.”
I cocked my head at her, not really understanding her concerns. Hartmut stepped in to explain for me.
“Leonore is worried that Wilfried, still wounded by his failure to obtain the Leisegangs’ support, won’t be able to take your advice sincerely. Especially when you are the candidate they want as the next aub.”
Ooh, right... Even my best advice might come across as an insult to him.
If my retainers were being this vocal, I could only assume that Wilfried was losing his mind over his inability to secure the Leisegangs’ support. I wanted him to overcome that misery and get back on his feet, so I made a mental note that I was determined to follow:
Avoid unnecessary contact with Wilfried.

Princess 1.1

The Valiant Struggle of the Reincarnated PrincessNext on the agenda—breaking the flag of a narcissistic noble brat.George zu Eigel was the heir to a marquis and Rosemary’s future fiancé in the game. Though I stated this rather matter-of-factly, it bears repeating: he would one day be Rosemary’s—as in, my—husband.Ha ha ha... Give me a break!What did I do to deserve pledging my life to that self-obsessed freak?I had half a mind to fob him off on the game’s heroine, but my conscience reined me in. I figured that I should at least try to make him slightly more presentable before handing him over to the shrine maiden. To do that, I’d need to recall his upbringing.Most of the game’s characters had tragic backstories, and George was no exception. George’s mother had possessed a fragile, otherworldly beauty, with silky platinum-blonde hair and eyes like amethysts. But beauty and luck rarely go together, and sure enough, she’d passed away in the game when George was only eight years old.The young child was overrun with grief from the loss of his beautiful mother, but nobody was around to console him. His father, the marquis, fell into despair without his beloved wife; he turned to hard living and paid no attention to his suddenly isolated son. George had an uncle as well, Julius, but this uncle was more focused on desperately trying to pull his brother, the marquis, out of a deep depression.Left completely alone, George continued to search for something to remind him of his mother. He holed himself up in her room and barred the servants from entering.One day, he found his mother in the mirror.As George wore his mother’s shawl over the top of his head, he gazed into the mirror’s surface and saw her—a person that looked identical to his mother, the Lady of the White Lily.However, that figure was none other than George himself.He realized he could see his mother at any time, as long as he had a mirror, glass, or even water—anything which showed his reflection. That moment was the origin of George’s narcissism.Whoa. Like, just whoa.I never expected that pervert to have such a tragic past.In my present life, it was apparent that George’s mother was still alive, but sickly. George and I first met when I was five and he was six; the intention was probably to match us as potential fiancés, but I dropped him early and warmed to his mother instead.Even in her sickly state, she sat upright in her bed and smiled at me. The marquis shot her a worried look from his position by her side, then introduced us.“Please forgive the breach of etiquette, Your Highness. My wife can’t leave the bed. She’s frail, and the change of seasons takes its toll on her health.”“It’s an honor to meet you,” said the beautiful woman. “I’m Marquis Morwitz’s wife, Emma.”“I’m Rosemary,” I said, returning the greeting. I was enchanted by her beaming smile.So this woman gets to be a fragile beauty and possess an innocent smile? That’s not fair! Oh God, she’s just way too cute.At this point I had fallen head over heels for Emma, and I played the future fiancée card in order to come see her as often as I could. Thinking back on it, having a princess visit so often might’ve been a nuisance for them, but Emma always seemed happy to see me. She even called me Mary, and returned my affection by cherishing me like a daughter.Emma, my angel, my goddess!Oh. George. Still here, are you?Over the course of my first few visits, I discerned a few causes of her ill health.First, she had no enthusiasm for eating. And when she did eat, she ate poorly.You like fruits, hate veggies, and want me to believe you’re not a child? Not liking carrots is cute and all, but Emma, you need your vitamins.Second, she rarely, if ever, exercised. It seemed like she often spent her day in bed reading a book or practicing embroidery. I assumed that a lack of exercise exacerbated her poor appetite. On top of that, not eating meant she had no energy, which created a vicious and self-destructive cycle.Third, she saw very little sunlight. She hardly ever went outside, so she spent no time under the sky. Humans need the sun’s light though. I couldn’t remember exactly why, but I thought it had to do with the formation of bones and autonomic nerves, or something like that.Plus, I personally think that being stuck in a room all day is a downer.People shouldn’t roast in the sun, but everyone still needs natural light on their skin.I wasn’t a doctor in my past life, so if her problem was a disease then I couldn’t help, but Emma didn’t appear to be suffering from any serious condition. She was prone to catching colds as the seasons changed, and they often lingered.If her lifestyle is the only problem, then we might be able to prevent her death in two years by increasing her stamina.With that goal in mind, I decided to round up George and his uncle Julius to attempt to improve Emma’s health.I walked around the mansion looking for them and spotted George in a corner of the garden. He stood in front of the beautiful, well-curated white roses that were in full bloom.“George, I’d like to have a little chat, if you don’t mind?” I called out to him.“Of course, what is it?”George tilted his head with a puzzled look on his face. His soft hair spilled over his shoulders. When he took that pose, his delicate good looks, so similar to his mother’s, conjured images of a sweet princess. The roses behind him added to his beauty, making me feel like I was looking at a scene from a shojo manga.He wore a white blouse with baggy sleeves and a lace cravat, along with a well-tailored dark-green gilet and culotte. These and his other clothes marked him as a child of nobility, but honestly, he looked more like a beautiful woman in drag than a boy.When I first met him, I couldn’t believe he wasn’t a girl. I had only known the grown-up—and horribly twisted—George, so I couldn’t reconcile the innocent girlish boy in front of me and the probably-guilty-of-something narcissist that he would grow up to be.His soft, platinum hair was fastened near the nape of his neck, and he had large, violet eyes. One look at his drooping eyebrows and flushed cheeks would leave boys his age vying to protect him.Too bad for them that he’s a guy.In keeping with his dainty features, he was shy; at first, all attempts at communication failed. He would always run away and could put any hamster to shame with his swiftness. Though I could have run after him, I was planning to keep him at arm’s length anyway, so I let him be. Therefore, contrary to the plans the adults made to have us befriend each other, we hardly spoke after our first introduction.The only reason we’d managed to reach a point where we could hold a normal conversation was because of Emma.George was nothing short of a mama’s boy. Every new song that he learned he would sing for her, every pretty flower he found he would give to her, and everything tasty he would share with her. In his spare time, he would sit with her and read. When she was sick with a cold and he wasn’t allowed into her room, he would twiddle his thumbs by her door or in the garden. He clung to his mother twenty-four hours a day.Remember, I only visited the Eigel household to see Emma. But that meant that George and I would inevitably encounter one another, because he was glued to her side. While George usually avoided me like the plague, he couldn’t bring himself to argue when his cherished mother laughed and said, “You two get along so well.”George and I began to talk more and more, albeit awkwardly. I doubted George had spoken to a girl his age before. He often fumbled trying to find the right topic.Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), I was never interested in the topics that girls my age usually favored. In my mind, dresses and jewels always played second fiddle to books and pictures. Embroidery and dancing weren’t as appealing as chess and horseback riding.George had a surprisingly strong thirst for knowledge and a powerful curiosity. He would shower me with compliments when I recited the information I’d learned from reading; I could keenly remember the awed looks he gave me when I told him spare trivia about random subjects. His adoration made my conscience twinge—I wanted to appear intelligent, but he seemed to overestimate my actual knowledge of those topics, which was shallow and surface level. My guilt at possibly deceiving him drove me to go back and study those subjects in-depth, until I really knew what I was talking about. The more I learned, the more he would listen to me with wonder in his eyes.Though the Kingdom of Nevel was one of the largest countries on the continent, the world was much bigger than that. Beyond Nevel’s borders were great lands covered in ice, a sight unseen in our temperate country, as well as deserts of endless sand, seas that reflected the sky like a mirror, and forests of colossal trees that scraped the sky. There were countless landscapes that our young eyes had never seen.George had once asked whether we could travel to see these sights, and I’d responded that his journey would depend on his own will. When he’d asked whether I’d go with him, I had responded that I’d go by myself one day. I thought he might shrink back from me because of my bratty answers, which were unfit for a girl, let alone a princess. But for some reason, they delighted him.Before I knew it, George had begun to warm up to me, and began to behave around me in the same friendly way he did with his family.I know he’s older than me, but I kind of like the idea of adding a new little brother to the mix.“Mother’s diet?” George asked.We had seated ourselves in the Eigels’ living room. I rested on the sofa, which was made of elegant, curved mahogany and high-quality leather, and nodded to George.“Yes. I want you to rework her diet around vegetables,” I said matter-of-factly.“But mother finds vegetables...” George said, his words trailing off as his expression darkened.Yes, indeed. I know all about your mom’s hate-hate relationship with vegetables.“That’s why I want to come up with some dishes that even a veggie-phobe can enjoy. Do you have any thoughts, Julius?”I pulled Julius into the conversation, and he lifted his hand to his chin in thought. In contrast to George’s androgyny, Julius was the ideal, mature man. He had well-proportioned facial features, faint lips, and light-brown hair combed backwards. His slightly drowsy green eyes softened the rugged expression of his good looks.“Well, my sister isn’t a big eater,” said Julius after a moment of thought. “I think soup would be the go-to solution, but even that she doesn’t like very much.”“How does she season it?” I asked.“Just a little bit of salt, I think.”I had directed the question to Julius, who was smiling wryly, but before he had a chance to respond, George answered from his side.Only a little bit of salt? I can see why that would exacerbate her veggie-hate.Consommé soup crossed my mind as an option, but I doubted whether this world had consommé. And if we’re making it by hand, it’ll take quite a while.In my past life, cooking had been such a huge passion of mine that I’d joined the home economics club in high school. I’d given consommé a shot once back then, and the recipe had needed a lot of ingredients, time, and effort.I think I got as far as skimming the scum from the top of the soup before I swore, “never again.” Besides, I can’t see us being able to find the same ingredients in this world.“Ah!” I said suddenly, clapping my hands. I ignored George, who was peering at me full of interest, and ran a recipe through my mind.How about a potage?I bet anyone could feed that to a veggie-hating kid and they’d slurp it right up.We could make it without consommé too. An electric mixer would have made things easier, but if we used a strainer, it shouldn’t be impossible. Best of all, potage comes in many different varieties. We could go for pumpkins or potatoes, turnips or carrots. We could even get more adventurous later with tomato gazpacho and cold soups.I wonder if we can get olive oil and wine vinegar?What about soy milk? How many condiments do they have in this world?“Julius!” As I shouted his name, Julius’s eyes shot wide open.“Yes?”I closed in on him. “Do you handle foreign condiments?”Julius operated as a trader because only the eldest son would inherit the title in noble families. Born a second son, Julius had entered the world of trading to test his abilities and found that he had an aptitude for it. He’d steadily built up a customer base by locating products that hadn’t yet broken into the Nevel trading market, like fermented foods from the small countries to the east, or exotic fabrics and thread, woven according to the generational traditions of a clan in the west.In my previous world, I guess we’d call him an up-and-coming young entrepreneur.“Of course. We handle several kinds of tried-and-true ingredients, like salt and sugar, alongside quite a few others like vinegars and oils. Recently, we’ve taken on a fermented condiment made from fish.”Wait, do you mean Thai fish sauce?! Oh my God, I’m excited. I wonder if he has soy sauce? What about mustard? Curry powder?“Would you care to have a look?” Julius peered at me, and he was obviously enjoying the way I failed to contain my excitement. His mature composure, steadfast until now, gave way to a smirk, and his eyes glinted like those of a child up to no good.Where’d that sudden change of demeanor come from? The lighthearted deviation from Julius’s usual personality was almost too cute to handle. Is every member of this family going to overload me with gap moe?“Yes please!” I responded enthusiastically.After that, Julius and I co-opted one of the Eigel family’s unsuspecting chefs and got to work devising recipes.Should we just go with corn? Or maybe potatoes? Oh, but I do like extra-sweet pumpkins.I’m tempted to go with something warm, but maybe cold soup would be easier for Emma to drink.I composed a list of all the recipes I could remember, then called everyone into a meeting.The chef was flustered and hesitant to deal with a princess at first, but we bonded quite a bit as the debate heated up. An argument erupted when he handed me balsamic vinegar after I had clearly explained wine vinegar to him.They might both be made from the same thing, but the refining process is different, so the taste and usage of each is distinct. I’ll die on this hill.We got on fine though, eventually. I felt that the conflict brought us closer, like boys who become friends after beating each other up by the riverside. We were each other’s equals in stubbornness, so I would occasionally blow my lid, and the phrase “ignorant old bastard” almost made it past my lips a few times. I restrained myself though, in the end. Prim and proper princesses don’t cuss people out while giving them the finger.Julius didn’t join in the arguments and instead assumed a mediator role, calming us down when the discussion veered off track. I honestly felt bad that I hadn’t only taken up his time but had also caused him plenty of trouble.The marquis, Lord Morwitz, was taken aback at my daily visits, but he gladly gave his assent when he learned that our aim was to improve Emma’s health.Well, she is the world to him, after all.When George tearfully asked what he could do to help his mother, I set him up with a different task to stop his whimpering. He was to take on an important role: accompany Emma on a short walk every day, if possible. Emma likely wouldn’t refuse if the request came from her cute son.Actually, she’s such a kind person that I doubt she’d turn up her nose, no matter who invited her.The lengths of their walks gradually increased, with allowances for the weather, the climate, and how Emma felt on any given day. The sight of mother and son admiring the flowers and birds as they took their leisurely strolls brought joy to the marquis and the servants watching over them. I noticed the gradual reinvigoration of the garden with new flowers and sculptures, and assumed that it was the marquis’s doing.He really is crazy-in-love with his wife.It also seemed that the corn potage, perfected through hours of hard work, was to Emma’s liking. I had to reach for a tissue when Emma called it delicious.I clasped hands with the chef who’d worked with us and jumped for joy. Then Julius, overcome with emotion, scooped me up and swung me around.All right, let’s calm down a tad, guys.Her appetite and her meals grew larger with time, and Emma’s complexion visibly began to improve. Recently, she had taken to drinking tea with Julius and myself in the arbor at one end of the garden. She hardly ever took ill anymore, even as the seasons changed.This is all wonderful progress, but I can’t let my guard down until George turns eight in a year’s time. I think we’re good though.My joy came out in a smile as I looked at Emma’s rosy cheeks and slightly plump figure. But then, the beautiful woman shone her girlish grin upon me and threw me into a minefield.“So Mary, when will you be joining our family?”“Uhh...what?” I asked, flabbergasted.The shock almost dislodged the porcelain teacup from my hand. I placed my cup back on the saucer to cover my flustering, but thanks to my trembling fingers, this came with an ugly clattering noise.“M-Mother!!!” a beetroot George said. I was seated next to him, and my face drained of color.Crap. I forgot. I completely forgot to break the flag that would lead to my engagement with George!!!I was too caught up in breaking Emma’s death flag to remember.Not just that, but now that I was a semipermanent feature at a possible fiancé’s house, our future was pretty much set in stone. My own stupidity had paved the way for my destruction.“Lord Morwitz and I are always talking about how we can’t wait for the day our family gets an adorable new daughter. He thinks of you as his own, just as I do. Lately, he’s been champing at the bit, saying he’ll have to work with George to make him the wonderful man you deserve.”Oh no, what do I do? I don’t have it in me to tell her that I have absolutely no interest in marrying her son, not when her eyes are full of so much hope.If I had sensed even the slightest hint that this arranged marriage was a scheme to forge ties with the royal family, I don’t think that letting them down would’ve been so hard. But Emma’s smile showed no signs of anything nefarious.I really would love to be your daughter,but no deal. I’ve already decided to pledge my whole heart to the as-yet-unmet guard captain.Actually, if I’m honest, this whole scenario is quite weird—asking me, someone with a mental age of twenty-plus years, to view George, currently seven years old, as a serious romantic option is a little creepy.Just when panic-induced sweat started to coat my palms, a lifeline dropped in from an unexpected direction.“You’re getting ahead of yourself, sister,” Julius said. A spectator until now, he placed his teacup down and plastered a smirk across his face.“Do you think so?”“I do. As bright as the princess is, she’s still only six. How do you expect her to talk about marriage when it’s still so far off in her future?”“You’re right,” said Emma as she turned to me. “Sorry, Mary. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I suppose I was rushing things too much.”“Don’t worry,” I said, greatly relieved. “I’m so happy that you think of me as a daughter.”Even though her words were kind, Emma’s mood sank after Julius’s rebuke. I wanted to apply a hurried patch to the conversation, but after a moment’s hesitation, I made up my mind and started to speak.This might be my only chance to say it, I thought and took the leap.“It’s just, I...umm. There’s someone else.”“Huh?!”“What!”“Well now.”The first to react to my declaration was George, followed by Emma, and Julius was last. George blanched and rose to his feet, Emma’s eyes lit up, and Julius sported an intrigued grin.

“Oh my! What’s he like, exactly?” I had imagined Emma would be disappointed, but she charged in for the details.I guess girls in every world share a passion for love stories.I found myself in desperate straits when Emma shooed George and Julius out of the room and started to wring me for information. I hadn’t actually met the guard captain yet, so I had to fudge the details as I told her. But even as vague as the information was, it satisfied Emma.As I left, she smiled and said, “I’ll support you.” This change of heart surely meant that I had managed to avoid George’s engagement flag. Hopefully.Well, fingers crossed, anyway.A Shock for the Reincarnated Princess“Sister!!!”“Oof.”It happened one afternoon—after Emma’s condition had considerably improved, I was able to spend less time visiting the Eigels and more time at home in the palace, focusing on my studies in earnest.As I walked towards the library, through the cloister overlooking the garden, a blond missile flew right into my chest.“Sister! Sister! Sister!”A mop of bright blond curly hair eviscerated my midriff at full speed. The missile was a full head shorter than me, and his arms and legs looked so thin that they might’ve snapped under strain. A layer of tears shimmered over his large eyes, which were a deep shade of aqua blue.This missile was obviously my little brother, Johan, whose adorable looks were akin to an angel from a religious fresco. His arms were much less frail than their appearance suggested because he mercilessly strangled my abdomen in his embrace.Johan! For my sake, try to hold back a little. I want to keep my internal organs on the inside.“Miss Rosemary! Are you hurt?” my personal guard asked from his position behind me. Alarm had crept onto his refreshingly handsome face.“I’m all right,” I said.Despite his youth, my personal guard was skilled and dependable. The only reason he had not reacted to the hugging assault was because he knew that the missile was a prince.“Johan.”While I was conflicted about how to respond to my little brother, who was clinging to me like a puppy, a stern voice called his name. Johan’s tiny body tensed up.Standing before us was an intelligent-looking and attractive boy holding a wooden training sword—my older brother, Christoph.“Get back here. We’re in the middle of training,” Chris said. His cold tone and disinterested expression packed a punch. Even though I knew that I wasn’t the target of Chris’s reprimand, I was compelled to stand up straight.Unfortunately, Chris’s tactic spooked Johan into clinging even harder.Why are little kids’ hands so strong? Johan, if you don’t let up, your sister’s organs are about to come out and play.Chris sighed and looked to the ground; his long eyelashes framed his downturned, ice-blue gaze.Johan jumps at every little thing Chris does. What exactly is this training that he’s being made to do?“Good afternoon, Chris,” I said politely. “I’m terribly sorry for interrupting your lesson.”I could see that the afternoon hadn’t actually been good, but I thought it best to greet Chris with pleasantries anyway.“Not at all,” Chris said, shaking his head. His face was still expressionless, but his gaze was gentle. “You’re not to blame. Johan has just been in low spirits because he hasn’t seen you in a while.”Apparently, when Johan had spotted me walking to the library, he’d abandoned his training to run after me.That was slightly careless of me. I’d better take more notice of which routes I travel, and when.“Johan,” I said, kneeling down to make eye contact with my slightly shorter brother.“Sister,” he called out to me. Tears formed in his big, upturned eyes.This little boy was so fond of me—I couldn’t help but find him cute. Even if he was needy and a crybaby. And possessive. And annoying.But if I’m soft on him now, nothing will change.“Johan, apologize to Chris,” I said sternly.“Huh?” I could see my serious expression reflected in his wide, surprised eyes.I’m sorry, Johan. But I’ve decided to take a hard-line attitude with you. Things are different from when we spent our days snuggled together, just the two of us. I have to broaden my horizons, and so do you. I won’t be a useless, overindulgent sister any longer.“Chris made time in his busy schedule to train you, and you’ve wasted it. Apologize.”Johan scrunched up his cute face. He released his hands from where they clutched at my clothes, and gripped his trousers instead. The tip of his nose shone bright red from holding back tears.His head still downcast, he began to mutter, “I’m s-sorr—”“I can’t hear you,” I interrupted. “Look up. Look at Chris and speak properly.”Johan froze, aside from letting out a teary sniffle. By my side, the guard’s expression stiffened. Chris looked stunned.I bet they all think I’m a terrifying sister. But I’ve made up my mind to ditch the mollycoddling and become a little monstrous. If they think I’m harsh, that’s fine by me.“I’m...” Johan sniffled again, “sorr—”“Again,” I said, unrelenting.“I’m sorry!!!”After seeing Johan stand bolt upright and yell out his apology, I finally softened my expression.There’s a good boy.I nodded in satisfaction, then turned to Chris and froze. Chris had listened to Johan’s boisterous apology with a strained smile, but it wasn’t him that shocked me.At some point, a figure had walked up behind Chris. He wore a knight’s apparel, and held a wooden sword in his hand, the same as Chris’s. He must have been teaching Chris and Johan how to handle a training weapon.That makes sense, seeing as he’s the best swordsman in the country.He had unruly hair that was coarse and dark, and his black eyes glinted sharply. His masculine cheeks and the outline of his jaw were the same as those in Hidden World’s graphics, but without his beard, he looked younger.No “looked” about it. He is younger.He was tall enough to tower over me, and he had a firm build, with just the right amount of muscle. This wild-looking man stared at me like I was a funny animal.“C-Chris,” I stammered.“Yes? What’s wrong, Rose?”Everything. Please, Chris, tell me I’m mistaken. Tell me that’s not who I think it is.

“Who is that?” I asked.“Oh,” responded Chris. “This is our sword-fighting instructor. He’s a knight serving in the royal guard.”Taking his cue from Chris, the knight knelt before me. He respectfully took my hand and brought it almost to his lips. As his breath brushed across my fingers, I couldn’t help but stiffen up.“I am Leonhart von Orsein, of the royal guard. It is an honor beyond my worth to be in your presence,” he said in the low, sweet voice that had captured my heart.I don’t think I could have made a worse impression, I thought as I trembled. I was overjoyed that I’d finally met him, but also embarrassed that our first meeting was when I was chastising my brother in full-on bitch mode.My long-awaited encounter with the future guard captain had occurred in the worst way possible.“I, uh...” I said, words faltering. The sheer shock of his sudden presence left me dumbfounded and stuck in place.God. I seriously wanna cry.I had resolved to improve myself as much as possible so that I could be ready for the day when we would meet. That was the reason why I hadn’t yet sought him out, despite knowing that he was probably already in the royal guard when Rosemary was a child.Besides, no matter how strong I came on to him, a young girl my age stood no chance. At the start of Hidden World, Rosemary had been fifteen or sixteen, and Sir Leonhart thirty-one. Even at that age, it would have been unlikely for him to have given Rosemary a shot at romance. At present, my prospects were completely out of the question.I told myself that meeting him would only get me down—now, I haven’t just stumbled across him, I’ve also shown him the worst side of myself. It’s over. My romance has bitten the dust before it had a chance to start.“Your Highness, is something the matter?” asked Sir Leonhart.“N-No. I’m quite all right.” I shook my head and forced the tears back.I pulled my hand away from his big palm and took a step back. The suspicious glances stung.“Sister? Do you hurt somewhere?” Even though I’d been harsh to him earlier, Johan gazed at me, full of concern.I stroked his hair to let him know I was okay. He smiled, relieved. My little brother’s innocent kindness racked me with guilt.Sorry Johan.Just as I was trying to change my coddling attitude and take a hard-line approach towards raising Johan, I wavered.Regardless, trying to act like an angel only when around the object of my romantic affections is neither cool nor fair, and is rather deceptive. From now on, I’ll drop the innocent act and play a devilish older sister, no matter who’s watching!“Please accept my apologies for my unsightly display,” I said, composing myself as much as possible. “I’m the first princess, Rosemary. Please look after my two brothers.”I wrestled what I hoped was a smile out of my rigid facial muscles. I couldn’t see my own face, but if I’d managed to produce a non-forced smile, then I deserved a pat on the back.“Unsightly?” Sir Leonhart picked out one of my words and whispered it to himself. For some reason, he looked perplexed. He blinked his surprising long eyelashes a couple of times.“Sir Orsein?” I inquired.“Forgive me,” he said, “but when you say ‘unsightly,’ are you referring to the valiant figure you cut a moment ago?”Upon hearing the word “valiant” I gulped inadvertently. I wasn’t sure what was going on in his head when he chose that phrasing, but I prayed he wasn’t being sarcastic.Otherwise, I’d be heartbroken beyond recovery.I said nothing.Sir Leonhart narrowed his almond eyes and gave a kind smile, apparently finding an answer in my silence.His unexpected reaction left me at a loss for words. He grinned gently as he watched me. “Forgive me. A knight ought to never embarrass a lady. But, if you will pardon my transgression, I would like to say one thing.”“Umm, yes?” I responded, not knowing where his train of thought was headed.“When I saw you earlier, I thought to myself, ‘what a cool princess.’”“Oh!” The moment I understood what Sir Leonhart had said, my skin almost audibly heated to a boil. I didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that my face had turned bright red.I mean, even my ears are burning.What should I do? I made my decision to take a tough attitude only seconds ago! Scary sisters don’t blush. Devilish sisters don’t sit around smirking to themselves, carried away by romantic thoughts.Unfortunately, however much I tried to convince myself, my body gave me away. The redness of my cheeks refused to subside, and my facial muscles threatened to break ranks at the slightest distraction. All I could do was look down, lips trembling.Sir Leonhart isn’t to be taken lightly.I was no match for him; he could pull my strings any way he wanted.“Sister.”“Ah! Johan!” I said.I had completely forgotten that Johan was standing there until he called for me. When I snapped my head around to look at him, I saw him staring back at me with a horrid, empty glint in his blue eyes. A chill ran up my spine.Uh-oh. Somebody’s pissed.He’s right to be, though. One minute I’m yelling at him, and the next, I’m going tomato red in front of another man. Why wouldn’t he think I’m trying to make a fool out of him?I’m wicked! I’m loose! I’m a slut! I’m such an idiot!“Why are you blushing, sister?” Johan asked in a voice so cold that I couldn’t believe it came from his mouth.“I, uhh...” The words had fled from my tongue. I’d wanted to apologize, but then I lost my chance to do even that.“Johan,” Chris interjected, probably unable to watch me try to fumble for an excuse. “No more teasing Rosemary.”“But Christoph!”“I do understand how you feel,” said Chris, “but blaming Rosemary is barking up the wrong tree.”“Okay.” Johan hung his head and looked annoyed after Chris’s chastising.S-Sorry Johan. I’m at fault for getting carried away, and now you’re having to hold your tongue about something you don’t think is right. I really am sorry.Chris continued his rebuke: “You should now understand why there’s no point in stomping your feet and keeping Rose locked up.”“Yes,” said Johan.“Then let’s get back to training. There’s plenty to learn.”Uh, Chris, what was that? I don’t think catching a little love fever is grounds to lock me up.I had no idea what Chris was talking about, but Johan seemed to understand. He nodded in response to Chris’s question, and carried a dignified look on his face.I’m feeling kinda like the odd one out here.“Sorry for the wait, Sir Leonhart. Let’s go,” Chris said.“Yes, Your Highness,” said the knight.“I’ll see you later, Rose,” said Chris as he turned to leave. “Apologies for the commotion.”“R-Right,” I replied, still slightly confused. “Good luck with your training.”Chris and Johan walked away, leaving me floundering to understand the conversation. Though Chris had said his farewells before leaving, Johan remained silent and gave only a bow.My little brother might actually hate me now. I did want to get rid of his siscon nature, but I never wanted to push him to the other extreme.Well, I’m reaping what I’ve sown, I guess.For some reason, Johan stopped in front of Sir Leonhart. His large eyes glimmered with a challenging look.A few seconds of silence passed. Eventually, without a single word, Johan began walking towards the training grounds.It might’ve been my imagination, but from behind, Johan seemed slightly bigger than before.

Princess 1.0

Monologue of the Reincarnated PrincessI, Rosemary von Velfalt, was reborn as the first princess of the kingdom of Nevel. Though I began a new life, for some reason, I retained the memories of my previous self.Basically, I’m an otherworld protagonist. Strange, but true.The world into which I was reborn was vast and unfamiliar. It spanned an entire large continent, which was shaped like a bird’s wing, and beyond the mainland were hundreds of islands, both large and small.My kingdom was located on the continent, in the southern portion of the central region. Nevel was a monarchical state, backed by a thousand years of history, and was the second-largest nation on the continent.Nevel’s southeastern region was blessed with bountiful flatlands and a temperate climate. Agriculture thrived there, and the region boasted some of the largest harvests of wheat and corn in the world. The mountainous north was also rich in resources; it was home to the mining industry, where many workers earned their livelihoods from the iron ore deposits found there.A trade route cut across the central heartlands of Nevel, connecting the nation of Vint to the west with the Kingdom of Grundt to the east. Dotted along this road were booming merchant towns.Though primarily famed as a grand and prosperous kingdom, Nevel was held in high regard by other countries for another, odd reason—though it was rare, children with magical abilities were occasionally born in Nevel. This meant that, in Nevel alone, there existed a class of sorcerers.Some claimed that the source of this magic was a demon lord who had long ago forced the world to the brink of destruction, and who now lay sealed beneath Nevel’s ground. Others suggested that Nevel’s millennium of uninterrupted existence was the cause—they believed that the earliest generations had passed the secret of magical power down through the centuries. Though theories abounded, the true reason remained unknown. To most, the demon lord was just a character from fairy tales, and few believed that he actually existed.I was one of those few. To be more specific, I didn’t believe, I knew. I knew that magic and the demon lord existed.To explain why, I’ll have to turn back time a little. As I explained at the outset, I was reborn with the memories of my previous life intact. I’ll never forget the shock I felt when, after dying in a traffic accident, I’d opened my eyes and found myself in an infant’s body.What’s this, a light novel?! I’d tried to shout as someone resembling a wet nurse picked me up. My infant vocal cords hadn’t been strong enough for words though, so my question had come out as a baby’s cry.Despite this confusing start, I grew up quickly, dodging the odd plague here and there, until a different realization rocked my world at three years old. Now literate, I had started to read books and, as I learned the names of my country, my family, and myself, I felt a strange sense of déjà vu. It was possible that I had learned them from the wet nurse and the maids talking, but I wondered why they felt so familiar.Suddenly, I remembered—that otome game. The details of this world were the same as the one in the game I’d played in my past life.What’s this, a light novel?! I almost exclaimed. This seemed to be a recurring question in my life. However, since prim and proper princesses weren’t supposed to make sarcastic remarks, I managed to hold in my outburst.I prayed for it to be a misunderstanding, but similarity after cruel similarity mounted up. Both countries had the same names and the same worldview. There were young boys whose names and faces were identical to the game’s main characters. To top it off, I shared a name with the side character who acted as the heroine’s rival. There were too many parallels to shrug the idea off as simple coincidence.“Well, great.”I sighed from my chair by the window, which was located in the corner of my room—a space extravagantly decorated in the style of the European Renaissance. The fog from my breath on the window dissipated and revealed my reflection: a young girl with a vacant expression. My skin was fair, my platinum blond hair flowed in gentle waves, and the upturned corners of my large, sky-blue eyes gave me a stern expression. I possessed all the dazzling beauty you would expect from a rival character, but despite my comely appearance, I wasn’t straightforward enough to let vanity put a smile on my face.A second, longer sigh escaped my lips. Thankfully the nearby maids didn’t see or hear me; a sighing three-year-old staring off into the distance would have appeared quite surreal.Discovering that this world was the one from the otome game hadn’t left me jumping for joy. Quite the opposite, in fact.The reason was simple: that game was famous for being terrible.I think the title was Welcome to the Hidden World. In the story, a high school girl was summoned to another world as a shrine maiden. Her quest was to defeat the demon lord and restore peace, or something like that.The main plotline was pretty standard, so I didn’t have anything to complain about. The problem was the characters. The “hidden world” in the title didn’t just refer to the otherworld setting, and it carried a double meaning: all of the main characters had a hidden side, a secret nature. This in and of itself didn’t cross any lines, as I don’t have any complaints about a rehashed, slightly cliché setup.No, the big problem was that the suitor characters’ hidden sides, the main selling point, were absolutely pathetic.The second prince was a siscon, and the adoration he felt for his sister bordered on obsession. The noble with a tragic backstory was an unaware narcissist. The personal guard was a self-defeating masochist. The sorcerer was a necrophile. The assassin was gay. Worst of all, the priest, otherwise known as the demon lord and the main villain, was a yandere whose love was expressed through violence. He was so bent on his own destruction that he summoned his archnemesis, the shrine maiden.There couldn’t be a better example of a game trying too hard to be original and failing. If I’d met any of them in the real world, I would’ve turned and bolted away at full speed. They weren’t the kind of people you’d want to have anything to do with.When I started the game in my previous life and began winning over the noble, the first glimpses of his narcissistic nature made my heart sink.The heroine must be an angel, or maybe a qualified defense attorney, to be able to take this dumbass seriously, I thought with a straight face.I suppressed my initial urge to ask the game shop for a refund, and trudged through to the wedding scene at the end. The noble gazed at the heroine in her pure white dress and remarked, “So beautiful. The reflection of me in your eyes, that is.”I rage-threw my controller onto the floor in disgust at that point.Is every writer for this game a complete idiot?! Painting a happy ending only to fade to black with a terrifying final line is a format that only works in horror stories.Using a line like that in a romance game makes a mockery of all the character development up to that point.I tried a different route, and then another. Every single character followed a similar course; there wasn’t an ounce of excitement. The suitors weren’t lovable so much as stabbable. I felt like a guinea pig being subjected to an avant-garde stress test.The people on the internet by and large shared my opinions. Even so, there was a distinct reason why we all powered through without throwing the game away: accompanying the outwardly dazzling main characters were the so-called side characters. Their purpose in the game was just to add texture and flesh out the story, but these side characters outshone the main suitors in every conceivable way, and that imbalance was what made Hidden World so terrible.Since they weren’t main characters, they never received much screen time with the protagonist. A few of them even went entirely unmentioned in some routes. For whatever reason though, they were all hotties that were good-looking enough to rival the main characters. Also, unlike the main characters, they had amazing personalities. They were truly faultless.For example, the first prince was cool and intelligent. The narcissistic noble had a side-character uncle who was a calm and kind gentleman. The guard captain was caring and strong, a man among men. The necrophile sorcerer’s rival was zealous and hardworking. The assassin-turned-waiter was a feminist and a friend to all women. Even the priest’s sister was a stunning beauty with a big-sisterly disposition.What’s the point in making the side characters so much better than the main characters? If I could’ve interrogated the production staff about how it had come to this, I would’ve.In spite of my frustration with the main characters, the side characters kept me playing. The best among them was the guard captain, who happened to be my number one heartthrob and the man who boasted the top spot on the internet’s popularity polls. He left all the main characters in the dust. I suffered through the pain of each disappointing route just to see his smile. However small the chance, I pinned all my hopes on the possibility that, after finishing the main characters’ stories, the guard captain route would become available.Sadly, I couldn’t unlock it. Or rather, there was nothing locked away. His route didn’t exist.I fought on through pangs of despair as the gallery filled up and up. There’s got to be at least one hidden character, right? I thought, trudging onward. But, struggle as I might, neither God nor the production staff led me to the promised land.Tears fell down my cheeks when I saw the “100%” in the corner of the scene-select screen. No new routes appeared for the side characters, even after finishing the game. All that remained was the fact that I had wasted my time playing through every inch of this piece of shit.I’ve never felt so empty. What am I even doing?I wasn’t alone in this feeling. The most well-liked ending, according to the player community, was the normal ending, which also happened to be the one where the despondent heroine snuck back to her own world with all hopes of world peace and romance shattered. So what made this doom-and-gloom ending so popular? His appearance, of course—the guard captain’s.As the heroine lamented her powerlessness, he gently stroked her hair, saying, “It’s not your fault. Go home, live a happy life.”Who wouldn’t fall for him?I lost count of the number of times I screamed “Don’t do it!” at the screen, but the shrine maiden still chose to step into the magic circle, homeward bound and looking guilt-ridden.I might have gotten a bit carried away with my explanation, but the point is that I was reborn into that shitty game’s world, which could only mean one thing: endless amounts of trouble were right around the corner.If I was to live a peaceful life in Nevel, I would have to break the event flags to avoid triggering routes where I would end up with any of my suitors. Though the flags were once just checkpoints in a game, they now carried real-world ramifications that could ruin my new life. I needed to dodge them at all costs.My head hurt just thinking about how I would mollify the six pain-in-the-ass main characters by myself, all without triggering their flags...but there was no other path to happiness.The three-year-old me said nothing, but I took a deep breath, scrunched up my face, and made up my mind.I can do this. I can reach a future where I meet my beloved guard captain.Brothers of the Reincarnated Princess“Brother, I have a favor to ask.”As I addressed him, my brother’s ice-blue eyes widened in shock.He stood in front of a bookcase, which was so large that it dominated the entire west-facing wall of the room. The other walls and the ceiling were adorned with intricate engravings, all done in Renaissance style.My brother’s features mirrored mine in several ways; his silky, platinum blond hair fell to his collar, and his skin was unblemished alabaster. His eyes were slightly upturned, embellished by long eyelashes, and framed by imposing eyebrows. His facial structure was in accordance with the golden ratio, and this symmetry made his face look as if a master craftsman had sculpted it.He was slim, as was typical of early adolescent boys, and he wore a justaucorps, a gilet, and culottes, all in blue to match his eyes. His fine clothes were finished off with a detailed pattern of intertwined flowers and ivy, done in silver thread. A topaz brooch fastened a cravat to his collar, and he held a book in his hands, which were both adorned with white gloves.Every inch of him, down to the smallest detail, just screamed prince. And he was. This boy was my brother, the first prince Christoph von Velfalt.He stood in shocked silence for a moment, blinking his long eyelashes so heavily that they almost made a sound. His stare was intent but contained a clear look of surprise—a rare departure from his usual disinterested expression. He finally closed the thick book in his hands and placed it on the shelf, then walked over to me, stopping just shy of two meters away.“It’s unlike you to come and see me of your own accord.”His phrasing might have sounded insulting, but a peek at his expression revealed that he meant no offense. Truthfully, it was rare for me to approach him. In my defense though, I wasn’t avoiding him because I disliked him.The problem was that Christoph, or Chris for short, was only my half brother. I had a full brother also, the second prince, named Johan. He and I were half-siblings to Chris, and we only shared our father’s bloodline with him. Chris was the son of the king’s last wife, who never fully recovered from childbirth and passed away years ago. Johan and I were the children of the king’s new wife.My mother, the current queen, despised Chris. Whenever she thought of the old queen, my mother would fall into fits of jealousy. Chris could never escape her ire because he was a living, breathing reminder of his mother. Needless to say, our mother took great pains to ensure that Johan and I, her natural children, stayed away from Chris as much as possible.You can act however you want, mother, but forcing your feelings onto your kids is a bit much in my opinion.Even with all of this supposed passion, our mother only had eyes and a heart for the king. She was barely aware of Johan and me, so it was frustrating that she controlled our interactions with Chris. Why was this the only thing she chose to poke her nose into?“Won’t your mother scold you again for talking to me?” asked Chris.“I don’t mind.”“But...”“I’m five years old now,” I said adamantly. “I’m old enough to take responsibility for my own actions.”“Rose,” he started, seeming dumbstruck as he called me by my nickname.What a wonderful person he is, I thought. He could have shown contempt for me as the daughter of the woman who mistreated him, but he never did. Far from it, he showed consideration instead.Are you taking notes, Johan? You could learn a thing or two from your older brother.“I see.” Chris stared at me in silence for a moment, then his face mellowed. He said little, but his eyes harbored a gentle look, like a grandfather gazing upon a grandchild who had grown up.You carry quite the presence for an eight-year-old, brother.“So, what’s the favor?” Chris asked, bringing the conversation back to the main point without prying any further.“The truth is, it’s about Johan...” My words trailed off.“Johan? What’s the matter with him?”Oh brother, I thought. You got all day?Out loud, I said, “I’d like you to find strict, smart teachers for Johan.”At this request, Chris fell silent.Our youngest brother, Johan von Velfalt, was the second prince of the Kingdom of Nevel, one of Hidden World’s main characters, and, to top it all off, a bona fide siscon.In the game, the only person he truly loved was his older sister, Rosemary. She was also the only person he trusted with all of his heart. If she said yes, so did he; if she said no, then no it was. If she pointed to a dark-black crow and called it white, he would swear it was white in a heartbeat. His feelings of love towards his sister were obsessive, to say the least.But it wasn’t really his fault. Why did he turn out that way? The answer lay entirely in his upbringing.As our father busied himself with matters of state, he paid no attention to his family. Our mother was, as I explained before, only interested in the king, except for small incursions where she would stifle her children’s actions. The lack of attention from his parents left Johan feeling trapped, as if he lived in a tiny bubble.The maids assumed from his outward similarity to our proud, high-strung mother that he would take after her in temperament as well, so they kept him at arm’s length, afraid to poke that hornet’s nest.Additionally, every teacher assigned to him owed their status to his mother, so they let him do as he pleased, probably fearing social and political retribution from the queen if they dared to discipline him.Amid all of that isolation, only his sister Rosemary dealt with him head-on.So yeah, it makes perfect sense that he’d start to depend on her.When playing Hidden World in my previous life, I was more ambivalent about Johan’s problems. Of course, that mindset was only available to me because he had been Rosemary’s problem, not mine. But now that I occupied Rosemary’s life, the realization had dawned: There’s such a thing as too much brotherly love.At this point in my current life, my little brother was only four years old and at peak cuteness. He would follow me wherever I went. There was no question that I found him adorable, plodding along behind me like a baby chick. Recently however, his behavior had started to get a little weird. He would often burst into tears whenever I left him, and his jealous disdain towards anyone who approached me was becoming less cute.The final straw was a moment when Johan had lunged at the maid who’d caught me after I’d almost fallen in my room. When he’d grabbed a letter opener from the desk and pointed it at the maid, I’d almost started screaming. Of course, I’d stood in front of her with arms outstretched to block his path, so nothing had come of it. This was the point where his obsessive behavior had crossed a line.I mean, she’s a maid.She’s a woman. And she was just trying to help! What kind of psychopath would attack her for that?No more violence, no more yandere!As I witnessed my brother showing early signs of abnormality, I thought to myself, We’ve got to do something about this boy, quick.Returning to the present circumstances, I addressed Chris: “This isn’t really something I should trouble you with. But I doubt that our father would replace his teachers, even if I asked him.”Chris hummed thoughtfully.The king had few hopes for the second prince. I understood why he wouldn’t want to fuss over Johan when he already had a capable heir, but my younger brother deserved at least a little thought. Johan’s teachers, who only taught lesson plans that would personally please him, were negligent at best.Mother’s just as bad, I thought. She ought to have selected his teachers a little more carefully.“What he needs is someone that he can respect. Someone he will listen to,” I stated clearly. “As long as I’m the only person willing to tell him off, he’ll continue to retreat further from the rest of the world.”And to be honest, I’d like to put the brakes on the whole siscon thing.There was a beat of silence where Chris stood, arms folded, before speaking. “Truth be told, that has been worrying me too.”I saw myself reflected in his eyes, which he had cast downward in deep thought.“I don’t see him very often, but even in those brief moments I can see that he is overly dependent on you.” Chris let out a slight laugh, practically just a breath. “After all, every time you and I meet, Johan glares daggers at me from behind your back.” Judging from the sympathetic look in his eyes, I was certain Johan’s evil stare was replaying in his mind.I felt guilty for being the cause of this friction between my brothers, and wanted to kneel down and beg for Chris’s forgiveness.“Is he hostile with others too?” asked Chris.“Yes,” I said, winding up to relay the full story. I gave Chris a rundown of the time he’d tried to attack the maid, and Chris furrowed his eyebrows in response.“I can understand that he’s desperate and doesn’t want anyone to take away his precious sister, but attacking a maid goes beyond a child’s tantrum.”Yep, I thought wryly, adopting a blank-eyed, long-distance stare. He’s come down with a case of yandere-itis.I had my hands full when he was diagnosed as just a siscon—there is no way I can handle him progressing into a yandere.So much for my mental health I guess.What more could I have done? I tried to stop him, but whenever I left him, he would just get worse! He keeps hounding me, asking if I am abandoning him. Any more and I’ll faint!The moment when the color seemed to drain from Johan’s eyes and they turned glassy, I knew.This game’s broken. I can’t handle this on my own.“There’s nobody around to keep him in check,” I said to Chris, “so he’ll never get better, only worse. If only I were tolerant enough to lead him down the right path. I’m ashamed to say I’m a failure of a sister.” I’d fully expected Chris to chastise me, but I was stunned when he widened his eyes once again.Holding a hand to his chin, he let out a short sigh. His expression was one of great surprise or shock. “I knew you were mature for your age, but maybe you’re a bit too brilliant.”“Huh? Did you say something?” I asked, confused. I couldn’t quite make out what Chris had muttered under his breath, but he ignored my request for him to repeat himself. He put an end to my query and then continued speaking at a normal volume.“Nothing. You’re doing a fine job,” he said earnestly. “You are most certainly not a failure, Rose. However much power and tolerance you possess, there are things that can’t be done alone. That’s exactly why you came to me, right?”I gave Chris a strong nod in agreement, then straightened my posture.Right, time to make it or break it. Let’s do this!“If you’ll allow it, I’d like you to take a firm hand in raising our brother,” I said. “Please, make Johan into someone who will one day stand by your side.”This was the whole reason I’d asked Chris and not my mother. The king would listen to Chris because he was the heir, and with Chris on my side, the prospect of changing teachers wouldn’t seem so bleak. Plus, I trusted my wise and self-disciplined older brother to find teachers that were perfect. With one request, Chris would solve multiple issues, like hitting two birds with one stone. In the best-case scenario, we might even nail bird number three—more frequent exposure to Chris might enable Johan to develop into an honest man.“And you’re really all right with that?” Chris asked in a hushed voice after listening to my request. His implication was clear: Are you all right with not only replacing his teachers, but also sending him to work for me?Once his education started in earnest, Johan and I would no longer have much time to spend together. His path in life would split from mine.In Chris’s eyes, I probably seemed just as dependent on Johan, and he was worried that sending the youngest prince off on a journey would leave me alone and unable to cope. The concern was appreciated, but honestly, not needed. If Chris could get Johan standing on his own two feet, that would give me more space to work towards my own goals. I couldn’t ask for more than that.I might find my little brother cute, but that’s irrelevant. I’m ready for him to become his own person.“Of course—I’m fine with it,” I answered Chris at once. “However far apart we are, I will always be his sister.”Johan, I’ll be watching over you from heav—well, from somewhere, anyway. Grow up to be a respectable man.“I see,” Chris whispered, treating me to a rare, gentle smile.I closed my eyes the instant I saw it. It was beautiful, radiant.That angelic expression is too much for my impure eyes to bear.Chris must have taken the suggestion to our father after our talk, because Johan’s layabout teachers were soon shown the door, and stricter, more professional teachers took their place.Chris himself took a part in Johan’s education, and he didn’t cut the boy any slack. Not one bit.I’m counting on you, little brother. Stick to the right path and grow up to be normal.

Tprg 5.2

Organizing the contents of the letters she’d sent and the replies she’d received in her mind, Agrippina made her final judgment: the last of the candidates for the purge had been selected.
After sending out a great deal of notices to the residents of her county that she intended to inspect the premises come spring, she’d gotten quite a few different reactions. Some were plainly disgruntled, others asked for her to reschedule to give them time to prepare—whatever might they need to prepare, she would have liked to ask—and others still welcomed her cordially.
With everyone gathered in the capital for the social season, some had even gone out of their way to inquire at Agrippina’s Berylin residence. However, she had yet to so much as set foot in the mansion, since she did all of her work from the palace and her atelier; they invariably went home with nothing but discouragement to show for their efforts.
Agrippina, you see, refused every private meeting. Knowing that their objective—namely, bribing her—would be impossible in public spaces, she left them to squirm and fret as they waited for the day of reckoning. Her torturous message was as clear as it was wordless: I will not accept foul play.Her little golden servant wasn’t around; he was busy frantically running around and making last-minute preparations for their tour of the territory. But if one were to get ahold of him, he would have likened the situation to an endless rerun of the last day of summer wherein none of his homework was completed.
At any rate, the conclusion was that a few dozen people were sure to be hanged in the coming weeks and months.
Those who fudged the numbers on their taxes, buttered up government officials, or treated a handful of cantons as their own personal property weren’t all that bad. These were wrongdoings that could be found in any region, and crimes this minor were practically a part of the job; nothing would ever get done if one tried to police these.
However, the flagrant avoidance of taxes, brazen sale of classified information, and unofficial toll checkpoints were unforgivable. Worse still, some had engaged in the expressly outlawed business of human trafficking, and had set up illegal mining operations in the area.
Agrippina couldn’t overlook these: her image as their ruler would crumble. This matter required austerity, and she was prepared to callously trim off the fat without the slightest pang of guilt.
Nobility were expected to be ever noble, and the imperial code of justice spake thusly: Let every penalty atone for one hundred sins.
“But to think,” Agrippina mused with a smile. “I’m impressed that earnestness can survive in a place like this.”
Taking one letter from the stack of papers, the count looked over the critical intelligence given to her by a man who’d taken a drastic leap of faith to do so. His name was Baron Moritz Jan Pitt Erftstadt. In the depths of the corruption and rot that dominated the Ubiorum county, he was a rare fellow, untainted by its evils.
While Agrippina had received many requests for an audience, his alone had been of a different zeal: he humbly requested a moment of her time so that he might personally report an important matter with evidence in hand.
The Erftstadt barony was just as old as the county itself. Before being ennobled, the original Ubiorum had taken in the first Erftstadt as a vassal, and had implored the Emperor of Creation to honor his faithful subject’s service; the two houses had entered the imperial bulwark together.
Although the descendants of Count Ubiorum had fallen to darkness, the virtuous souls of House Erftstadt had held fast to their primordial integrity until this very day. Convinced that the region had life left in it yet, their dutiful service continued, generation after generation.
At long last, the time had come for the baron to call a new master his own. In one hand he held an abundance of hope; in the other he carried the culmination of enduring his peers’ unwithering evil for years upon years while conspiring against them in secret. The final dossier he’d submitted had been passed down from his father, and his father before him: the man’s grandfather had begun collecting proof of his neighbors’ wrongdoings to be delivered “when the good count returns.” Each Erftstadt had swallowed their bile to greet the traitorous rats around them with a smile, and their great suffering had produced evidence to match.
Agrippina had meant to get to this eventually, and now she had a solid few generations’ worth of a head start on her work. Loyalty wrought reward: the new count had a task of the highest distinction to assign to her patriotic baron.
The lady of the county was going to inspect her territory this end-of-winter, and the Erftstadt estate would be her lodging—and this was what had driven her servant to near expiry.
After all, the bulk of Ubiorum’s resident landowners were praying for Agrippina’s death. Being the harbinger of ruin that she was, housing her invited untold dangers; nobody wanted that responsibility. The risks certainly wouldn’t stop at harmless pranks: these rogues would do anything to keep the messenger of their reckoning away. Lighting the mansion on fire was an expected opener; assassins were practically a welcoming envoy; if anyone was feeling particularly skittish, they might raise an army to surround the barony.
The new lord hid nothing. Her appointment was an overt proclamation: I shall use you as bait to sweep away more of the rot at once—are you willing to prove your loyalty?
The baron’s answer was unwavering: Yes, my lord.
His answer was the epitome of a steadfast vassal’s, worthy of praise to the end of time; pleased, Agrippina had set the current plan in stone with a weighty nod.
Her luggage was totally packed, and the blanket of snow covering the capital was thinning every day. Behind-the-scenes negotiations were all done, and what few preparations remained would be finished soon. All that remained was to wait and see how her enemies would react.
“Not that I expect to be surprised,” Agrippina scoffed to herself, tossing the letter into an unearthly pocket of space.
Since the dawn of time, those who found themselves on the back foot of machinations beyond their control had only one hope to escape: if the mastermind and their people died, the matter would be solved. Forever.
Agrippina may have been the daughter of an important foreign noble, but there were ways to remove her without incident. She simply needed to pass on in a way that would involve no legal hearings, by some means emphatic enough to leave no room for debate. And then, no matter how powerful her family was, they would have no means of uncovering an elaborately concealed truth that took place far from home; even the strongest arcane barriers paled in comparison to the protection provided by time and space.
A stray thought brought Agrippina back to an incident report she’d read many years ago: a tale of assassination so absurd that it had gone on to spawn a theatrical comedy. While recalling the details called for more effort than she wished to spare, she remembered that the story had chronicled the death of some count whose enemies had lured a dragon into his territory to blow him away, estate and all. Young or old, every member of his bloodline had been killed.
As tempting as it was to decry the account as a deus ex machina better fit for a tale set in the Age of Gods, the meticulous scheming and believability of the plot had made for a compelling story. Gratifying to watch unfold and utterly unique, the scheme was inherently impossible to litigate, allowing the conspirators to get away with their thrilling revenge story.
That had been the end to a play, of course, but that wasn’t to say there weren’t ways of reducing everything to ash in her own situation.
“I do look forward to seeing what they have in store. I can only hope they stray from the most banal of scripts.”
Gently exhaling a puff of smoke, the methuselah decided to sleep. Her kind could live without it, but the soul was ever in need of sustenance when battle drew near.

[Tips] Aristocrats given the right to manage human resources are allowed full discretion over matters of life and death, so long as their decisions are proven to be rational and lawful. Whether such decisions take the form of rope around a neck or poisoned cups offered in exchange for honor is a topic that goes unquestioned.

The snow had gone, but the chill it left on the earth continued to crawl up my legs as we set off from the capital.
“Mm... Is this really how people manage?”
“It really is.”
There was no lavish carriage to be found, no multiman guard detail. Our journey would be made in the plainest travel wear, and on the backs of Castor and Polydeukes alone.
“This is—how shall I say—horribly uncomfortable. I can’t imagine this is good for my skin.”
“You were the one who told me to prepare travel gear that’d let us pass for commoners.”
“I know...”
The woman dribbling complaints like a leaky faucet was who else but Lady Agrippina, but she looked nothing like I’d ever seen before. Her hair was magically dyed—using the official release of the product Mika had gotten a prototype of—a dull shade of brown, and a pair of mystic glasses made her eyes appear a similar hue.
On top of that, her polished blue-blooded fashion was gone, replaced with hemp travel clothes I’d purchased for cheap from a thrift store. Her rustic top, thick pants, and large mantle had been designed with only sturdiness in mind; each was packed tight with cotton to retain as much warmth as possible. I was wearing the same thing: this was a necessity to keep ourselves safe on the road.
“Are you sure there isn’t anything better? I can already imagine how sore my inner thighs will be if I ride in these.”
“A commoner’s skin is hard and tough. I’ll have to ask that you make do with the magic you’re so talented with—any better than this, and we’ll have to change our story.”
We weren’t role-playing as retired daimyo—although if we had one more, I was ready to be Kaku-san—but rather hiding Count Agrippina von Ubiorum’s identity to avoid any prickly situations that might arise. Plenty of people benefited from Lady Agrippina drawing breath right now, but just as many would have preferred her a trifle more inert; as bothersome as it was, this was our means of evading assassinations and assaults on our way to the territory.
That, and we had a lot of body doubles.
I don’t know what kind of sublime mastery she’d displayed in her negotiations, but the madam had managed to squeeze every penny and every last drop of authority she could out of the Emperor; our decoys were the imperial guard. Each unit revolved around a jager who specialized in disguises or a hexenkrieger who’d mystically altered their appearance placed inside a carriage. Surrounded by a convoy of knights each, our distractions had left the capital a few days prior.
Frankly, I’d failed to see in what universe we’d need to worry about Lady Agrippina being assassinated, but it turned out that this was more a trap to sniff out her enemies than a guarantee of her safety; it clearly wasn’t my place to get smart. From what I could surmise, she’d probably leaked fake intel to suspicious actors to see which of them would bite.
Because otherwise, I couldn’t see any reason she wouldn’t just send a messenger with a location marker for her to warp to, skipping the tedium of travel and the risk of assassination. I felt for the GM, and could see why space-bending magic had been reduced to a lost art. If just anyone could hop around through tears in space like the madam, then something like eighty percent of all problems that might arise in a campaign could be solved before they became issues at all.
Getting back on track, the perpetrator of any attack on our decoys could easily be discerned. The information she’d leaked had assuredly been carefully tailored to make sure she could trace the flow of information back via factors like location and name of inn.
As for us, we were quietly slipping out of the city after all the other teams had left to make sure we didn’t have any turncoats closer to home. According to Lady Agrippina, the list of people who knew of this plan was extremely limited: a select few nobles from the newly formed faction surrounding her, a handful of high-ranking imperial guardsmen in charge of coordinating the decoys, and me and Elisa.
So we should be good! is perhaps what I would have thought if I knew nothing of my own bad luck or my employer’s talent for drawing heat. I already knew that all this planning wouldn’t mean anything, and something was bound to happen—absolutely guaranteed.
Ugh, I hate this. It took a particularly awful set of circumstances to make me wish I were traveling by myself instead. This was worse than being at a bar or baseball game alone with my old boss.
“I’m trying to keep my arcane footprint to a minimum,” Lady Agrippina grumbled.
“Isn’t that a bit much to hope for when your plan includes opening a portal back home to sleep every night so that you can avoid the inns?”
“Please. My arrangements on that front are airtight. I had some Polar Night scholars seal our tent with an order-made barrier. As it turns out, an imperial order and a blank check are motivation enough to make a remarkable product.”
“That sure is something... Just how remarkable is it, exactly?”
“If you stood inside and used your entire mystic arsenal without reserve, I wouldn’t be able to notice from just outside.”
That’s pretty fucking remarkable.
That finally gave me some perspective: she’d ordered me to leave the low quarter without her, lead the horses to some lonely woods, and set up the tent here in the middle of nowhere...only for her to scare me silly when she opened it from the inside and appeared.
Oh, and I’d neglected to mention this, but I was also in costume. My public image had become that of the madam’s sworn retainer; if I stayed in the capital while Lady Agrippina “left,” only to depart on my own at a later date, everything would fall apart. The imperial guard had moaned about how hard it’d been to scrounge up a team of combat-ready mensch with my build and height, but I was willing to chalk that up to the stress talking and move on.
My hair and eyes had been alchemically dyed to match Lady Agrippina’s—to the great displeasure of the alfar—and I could probably fit in perfectly with my brothers and father now. In the past, I’d been mistaken for an adoptee when my mother wasn’t around, seeing as how Elisa and I were the only ones to take after her. Seeing myself like this in the mirror had been a new and refreshing experience.
I bet they’d be surprised to see me like this too.
Alas, Ubiorum county was months away from Konigstuhl on horseback, so I didn’t have any hope of taking a quick detour on the way.
“Hm,” the madam mused, “I suppose I’ll put up an ultrathin barrier on the inside of my clothes—agh, but that’s just a different form of discomfort in and of itself.”
“Then perhaps the best solution would be to make the trip as quickly as possible.”
“You’ve grown quite the mouth—do you know that? Well, whatever. Let’s be off.”
Lady Agrippina nimbly hopped onto Castor without the slightest hint of her usual listlessness. Not wanting to be left behind, I jumped on Polydeukes and followed after her.
“I suppose this marks the beginning of my journey...with this brat of a brother.”
“...Indeed it does, Sister Dearest.”
Ahh, of course. I’d done my best to keep it out of mind, but however could I forget this vital part of our backstory? The two of us were apprentices in the capital who’d just been given leave to visit home: the older sister Julia and the younger brother Alfred.
Funny, isn’t it?
Hide her trademark ears, and the methuselah was easy to take as a mensch; on a purely cosmetic level, maybe calling it easy was understating it. But what this pretext failed to account for was that I would have to refer to her as “Sister Dearest” without wincing in pain or choking on my own laughter—a true challenge indeed.

[Tips] The use of body doubles in times of peace is part of imperial aristocratic culture, but the truth remains that not all nobles need them for all outings. For most, their usage depends on circumstance.

The point-to-point distance from the capital of vanity to the Ubiorum county’s capital city of Kolnia was roughly four hundred kilometers; it was closer to six hundred and fifty along the linchpin highway. The trip was comparable to the journey from Konigstuhl to Berylin, meaning that we could’ve finished it in a few hours on a twenty-first-century Japanese bullet train but instead had to settle for a few months on horseback.
Beasts of burden tasked with ferrying along people and their luggage could usually manage twenty to forty kilometers a day—maybe sixty on a really good day. On top of that, they needed to rest every four to six days of walking, so a solid estimate was around two or three hundred kilometers of progress every ten days...if the conditions were right.
Unlike cars, the restrictions on when horses could perform at their potential were plentiful enough to forget about any semblance of steady, regular progress. Their horseshoes could fall off, their hooves could crack, and they could even come down with a stomachache; the troubles of living could manifest themselves in our very alive mode of transportation. Taking care of our steeds’ health was just as important to our progress as taking care of our own.
Other than that, poor weather could limit our range of travel on any given day; given that we had to keep track of both our supplies and the distance to the next place to stay, this could mean we’d be stuck in one place for days at a time. Combined, these factors meant a one-way journey took three months to complete.
As an aside, a traveler with a particularly high-held nose, picky about their choice of inn and insistent on a large security detail, would need an extra month or two. Not only would the greater number of people slow the operation down, but hotels that could accommodate a giant party of guards, servants, and their horses were few and far between; such journeys were doomed to even more obnoxious routing issues.
An emergency courier swapping out horses at every stop could make the trip in a month, and a drake rider could shorten that into a handful of days, but we had the misfortune of dressing up as normal travelers trying to get by.
Instead, we’d trotted along for the past month without much to note. It had been a peaceful journey thus far. Though the heavens sometimes sprinkled us with snow as if they had suddenly remembered the season or whisked away all sight with fog too thick to see my own nose, these obstructions had been well within our calculations. At our current pace, we’d make it to the Ubiorum territory by our promised date.
We were currently checking into a hotel just before the major city of Braunschweig—a rather foreboding name, I thought—located in the center region of the Empire. The inn’s name was The Golden Birdie, and it was the sort of place a regular worker might barely be able to afford. Instead of being protected by a random bouncer, the guard was a real fighter worthy of his title; the stables were nice and secure.
We’d borrowed a room for two, but Lady Agrippina had quickly slipped into the safety of the tent’s barrier and retired to comfort. I couldn’t really blame her. Mastery of space-bending magic meant that she didn’t have to sleep in this dingy—though I found it rather luxurious—room and could relax in her personal laboratory; why wouldn’t she go back?
“Man, I’m tired!”
Falling backward into bed, I could feel the stiffness built up over a long day on the saddle melt off my muscles. For one sweet second, everything felt worth it—this had to be one of the best parts of any journey. Sans getting home, that is: the eventual return was out of the running on account of being locked up in the hall of fame.
The bedding was wonderful: there wasn’t any question that it had been cleaned since the last guest had left, and the stuffing smelled fresh enough to assume that the owners regularly changed it out. Few things in this world could command as much gratitude as a bed free of fleas and lice.
One night in this room, along with a meal, bath, and use of the stables, cost one libra and twenty-five assarii. Different people would have different opinions on whether that was a good or bad deal, but personally, I thought it was a low price for what they offered. Real scams made me want to grab the innkeep by the collar for being audacious enough to take money for the “services” they provided.
Lady Agrippina went home every night anyway; the only thing that mattered to her was having proof we stayed in an inn, wherever it was. As a result, she had no qualms about settling for a mangy establishment if it was the only one around, and gods, did I suffer.
Ticks, fleas, and crab lice were par for the course, not to mention the time a crowd of those unspeakable vermin scattered out of sight as soon as I opened the door. That night, I’d realized that camping outside would be much nicer, and had sneaked out in the dead of the night to pitch my own tent. Living in the capital, I’d forgotten that four walls and a roof weren’t always better than the great outdoors; I understood that I was the only one who had to deal with the rooms, but would it have killed her to be a bit more considerate?
“Shoot, I can’t kick back all day.”
As tempting as it was to continue snuggling with the bedsheets, I had to clean up. I took apart the madam’s teleportation tent and then stuffed the other bed with some spare cloth to make it seem like someone was sleeping. In the unlikely case that someone came in, I had to make sure our story kept up.
With my forgery done, I decided it was a good time for a bath. The folks running the inn would bring up our supper on their own later, so I wanted to clean off some of the grime of traveling before then. Well, at least, as much as I could in a steam bath without a tub of water.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” I said to the proprietress. “Is the bath ready to use?”
“Oh, of course. But you know, with how slow business was today, I was this close to not lighting the fires.”
Happy day! Not many people traveled at this time of year; real traffic only began to spring up once it got a bit warmer. Readying a large sauna for the few workers who lived here on days without guests was probably a tremendous waste of money, so I really lucked out.
“Will your sister be bathing as well? The facilities flip between being open for men and women every other hour.”
“Uh... She said she was tired and went to bed, so I think she’ll probably pass.”
I flashed an empty smile and walked away from the front desk. As much as I still hated it, I’d grown used to pretending like that creature was a sibling. Still, I did not appreciate how she’d started having fun with our assumed identities by giving me shit in a manner befitting an older sister, fakeness notwithstanding. Seriously, what was the point of going out of her way to fix my clothes or hair in public, or to wipe my mouth like an actual caretaker? No, wait, I’ll answer that: she was killing time by watching my reactions.
Putting that out of my mind, I headed toward the bath and stripped down in the changing room. Inside, I found a sauna that was much more nicely kept than the price would suggest. The failings of lesser businesses were absent: no slimy floors due to insufficient cleaning, no benches that creaked and snapped at the lightest touch, and no filthy water that made me want to jump in a wild creek instead.
Praise be. In a world where money couldn’t buy honest service, places like these were true godsends. I tossed some water on the red-hot stones on the stove, filling the air with steam. When a white cloud of fog set into the room, I finally felt like I was taking a real bath.
Ahh... This is wonderful. If I had to nitpick, I would’ve liked for it to be a degree or two hotter, but I knew I shouldn’t add more firewood of my own accord, and heating it with magic was out of the question. I’d have to live with it; but hey, the missing heat could always be made up for with a longer stay. After that, the only thing left would be to hit the sack: no caring for the madam meant a nice, leisurely night awaited.
I had spent a while rubbing myself with a birch branch to improve my circulation and scrub out any dirt that came out of my pores when I noticed some other customers arrive at the bath. I heard the door to the room before this one open, and a series of footsteps...
Hm? But there was a distinct lack of rustling clothes. I waited with ears on full alert, and made out that they hadn’t even taken off their shoes in the changing room.
Letting my instincts take the wheel, I crouched down by the entrance with my towel in one hand. I didn’t so much as breathe for the next twenty seconds, totally erasing my presence...until some unmannerly buffoon violently kicked the door open.
Oh, I see. So that’s how you want to play it.
Then I guess I don’t have any reason to hold back.
On the other side of the doorway, the most obvious pack of goons I’d met yet awaited. But before they could bring their guard back up from breaking down the door, I swung my towel straight with all my might, landing a hit squarely in an intruder’s face.
“Gah?!”
Of course, it wasn’t just a wet towel: I’d folded it in two to cradle a burning-hot stone, fresh from the stove. Swinging my makeshift blackjack with a reversed grip, I caved in his hooded face with superheated pain. Judging from the crunch, it was clear that I’d broken more than just a nose.
The combination of scalding heat and forceful impact caused him to collapse, and the ink-dyed short sword in his hand went loose. Snatching it out of the air, I bolted into the changing room—to find two more attackers. Fair enough, I supposed; backup was more than expected.
They wore darkened leather armor and gloomy cloaks that covered their entire bodies. Furthermore, their hoods had been enchanted to hide their faces no matter the angle. These weren’t your everyday robbers: they were career wetworkers, accustomed to swinging blades in the shadows.
Still, the task of taking out an unarmed, unclothed kid lazing about in the bath must have had them feeling safe, because their reactions were several beats too slow. I understood the shock of seeing their companion’s skull rearranged, but this was hardly professional behavior.
“You little—hrgh!”
“What theaaugh?!”
With a quick turn of the stolen sword, I sliced at two hands: one holding a dagger, and the other reaching for a strange crossbow I’d never seen before. These sorts were liable to keep fighting so long as they could move, so I forwent mercy and chopped straight through their wrists. Any hand being used to kill an innocent little boy didn’t deserve to be attached to a person anyway.
As the two of them gripped at their wounds, I bashed in their heads with the back of my sword; just for good measure, I went over to the guy cradling his face and kicked his head like a soccer ball to add three tallies to my score. Unlike the capital’s guards, I could do whatever I wanted to these guys so long as I didn’t kill them.
“Huh. That was a letdown.”
To be blunt, these guys were chumps. After my run-ins with magia and the imperial guard, I’d been trembling over what a nobleman’s assassins might look like. But if this was all they had to offer, then the sauna would be a faster way of working up a sweat. Wasn’t this a bit too easy? I’d prepared all sorts of stuff to counter specialized killers, but it seemed it was all for naught—though I did have to admit I hadn’t expected them to jump me in the bath.
“Hm... Yeah, no, I don’t recognize any of them.”
I tore the hoods off the unconscious men—I made sure to stop their bleeding since it would be a pain to have them die on me—and, as expected, recognized none of them. The dagger-wielder was a werewolf, the backup crossbowman was a mensch, and the first guy...was too mangled to figure out, so I gave up.
Thankfully, it didn’t matter whether I knew them or not. All I had to do was tie them up, and Lady Agrippina would take a little peek into their heads for the rest. The only ways to hide something from her would be to use the same Sympathetic Barriers I and other magia used, or to have unbelievable levels of grit; neither seemed likely.
“...Wait, shit!”
After tying the three of them up, I realized I’d missed something critical: I knew that the madam wasn’t in our room, but they didn’t. And if they weren’t afraid to kill anyone they came across...
I threw on my pants and shoved both feet into my boots without so much as putting on my socks first, then bolted out into the cold. Sprinting back to the main lodge, I realized that my fears had been well-founded.
I had been too late.
“You rotten bastards!”
Inside, the innkeeper and her guard were dead. The proprietress’s body was at the front desk, her face buried in the hotel ledger with blood running down to the floor; her neck must have been cut from behind. On the other hand, the guard had fallen out of the chair by the entrance. His hand was still holding his sword, despite the crossbow bolt buried in his neck. He’d probably risen as soon as the owner was attacked, and had gotten shot for his troubles.
Rage threatened to reduce my vision to a boiling sea of reds and blacks, but I forced it down and ran for our room. As much as I wanted to go over and close the victims’ eyes, the clock was ticking.
On the way there, I passed two wide-open doors. Quiet and lifeless, it seemed those rooms had contained guests who’d met similar fates to the innkeeper. In fact, I suspected the same had happened on the third floor, where the husband of the operation was sure to be resting.
I turned the corner into our hall—There they are!
A group of four shadowy figures dressed exactly like the ones at the bath was huddled around our room. One was fiddling with the lock, so it seemed like I’d caught them just as they were preparing to strike.
You’re not getting away with this. Sure, the room was empty, but I could search every corner of my heart and I wouldn’t find it in me to let them go for what they’d done.
“Huh?! Who are you?!”
One of them noticed me, but I didn’t care; I just hurled the short sword I’d stolen. My Hybrid Sword Arts training included impromptu throwing, and the blade sank into the frontmost enemy as if guided to him by a magnetic pull. Nice and full of oxygen, the resulting geyser of blood was a pure scarlet, sputtering far to coat the well-kept floors in its filth.
Apparently, my attempt to contain the fury in my heart had failed. My aim was slightly off, and the sword had landed right between his head and shoulders, all but decapitating him as it cleaved deep into the trunk of his neck.
Shit—that guy’s dead. I cursed myself for letting him off with a quick death; what was I going to do if he was the one in charge?
But for now, I needed to pull myself together and deal with the remaining threats. These assassins were a cut above ordinary bandits, moving to intercept without delay: no expletives, no surprise, and no care for their fallen friend.
One came at me with a one-handed sword, well suited in length for indoor combat; another carried a smaller dagger made for stabbing. Behind them both, the last maintained his position by the door, pulling out a wand.
You have a mage?! How fucking nice!
Although Hybrid Sword Arts did highlight the ability to fight unarmed, trying to tackle this situation without a weapon was going to be rough. I could tell from their postures and gaits that these were experienced fighters: whatever style of combat they employed, I was convinced they were at least VII: Virtuosic in their mastery. A hotel hallway was practically no distance at all against a savvy opponent. I needed my next weapon, and fast.
So I called for it—the horrific blade who crawled to my bedside every night to sing her twisted songs of love.
“—!”
Crying out in an ecstasy that brought reality itself to the brink of shattering, her wordless delirium was the backdrop to a swift uppercut. In one stroke, an arm was severed, leaving a trail of misty blood in its wake—naturally, it wasn’t mine.
“Graaah?!”
I’d aimed for the slim opening in the vanguard’s armor to cut straight through his right elbow; not even the hardened killer could stay silent after that. He cradled his wound and stumbled head over heels. I bet he couldn’t believe it: I was some half-naked brat who’d foolishly thrown away his only weapon, so why was there a sword in my hands?
The ear-shattering joyful yelps sounding in my mind were of gratitude, for the Craving Blade knew no greater happiness than for a swordsman to need her as a sword.
But the weapon was too heavy to be swung from below—and more importantly, it was too long. The unwieldy zweihander required both hands, and should have been impossible to use properly in a cramped corridor.
“Good girl.”
Her pitch-black blade was as dark as ever, and the illegible ancient writing carved into its sides was no less ominous; yet as the last vestiges of daylight beamed through the window and reflected back as an obsidian glow, the image produced was clearly of a sword that was shorter than before.
More precisely, about the same size as Schutzwolfe.
Let me clarify that this wasn’t a sudden idea I’d come up with on the spot. I’d taken the Craving Blade out for a bit of practice one day—but also because her nagging at night became particularly insufferable if I neglected her—only for her inarticulate screaming to take the vague form of a meditation on love.
If love could only be earned with love, she conveyed, then she’d failed me. But she wanted mine; then it was only right that she demonstrated her passion.
Before I knew it, this accursed blade of mine had learned to fit any form I desired. By failing me, I assumed she was referring to my mortal combat against the masked nobleman. Her claim was that, had I wielded the weapon best suited for me, every cut could have been deeper, closer to being lethal. But none had done the job, and I’d nearly died because of it.
So the sword, in the depths of its adoration, had decided that songs were not enough; actions were needed to prove her devotion. Ever since, she had begun to morph in both length and width.
Nowadays, she could become anything I desired, so long as the final form could be considered a “sword.” Anything from a short sword barely bigger than a dagger to her original, nigh unusable heft was fair game. I’d thought her like a woman changing her wardrobe to suit a new lover’s palate, but who was I to deny that that was indeed an expression of love? Wanting to draw every last drop of attention from your chosen soulmate is a natural wish.
Besides, men were prone to styling up in clean suits and reaching deep into wallets to do the same. Having someone willing to dedicate everything to me in the name of love was a good feeling, and that was no different even coming from a blighted sword that chipped away at my sanity.
The second ruffian pushed past his fallen comrade to thrust his dagger forward, but he was too late. I ducked under his attack, slicing at the back of his knee to capitalize on his overextended leg; hard tactile feedback told me I’d cut through muscles and tendons to reach bone. All his weight had been resting on this leg, and he went flying forward as soon as I rendered it useless.
Letting all that momentum dissipate on impact with the ground would be wasteful of me; I extended my foot ever so slightly to catch his face. Despite not putting any force into it, I could feel the shock of a gnarly collision. My boots had metal plates on the bottoms and tops to prevent damage from traps and stomping, equipping my kicks with a real blunt weapon.
Ouch, that’s a bad angle. He’d lost an eye at best, and might have had his socket pulverized at worst. He wouldn’t be getting up any time soon.
“Cotton embrace—pinch of lily—a stem of rose, freed from thorn...”
But I didn’t have any time to spare. The mage in the back had his wand in one hand, a catalyst in the other, and was even chanting an incantation. Though he didn’t seem like a magus, those three supplements combined would surely bend reality in unthinkable ways.
So I just need to stop him before it goes off!
I leapt with all my force, closing the distance in a single breath. While I hadn’t touched my Agility in a long time, it was more than enough to cover distances this short.
“...lead these souls to a gentle graaagh?!”
And an attack made with a sword that could grow midswing was sure to reach. The Craving Blade reclaimed her original form, the tip of her edge cutting through the hood and across the mage’s mouth before he could give his spell any more verbal structure. The tiny white fragments riding the wave of blood were the last hurrah of his teeth, and the small chunk of flesh belonged to his tongue.
Only half-constructed, the spell had lost both its caster’s attention and the support of incantation in one fell swoop; it exploded. I jumped away on reaction, only to see a cloud of white smoke envelop the assassin.
I’d covered my face and made sure not to breathe it in, just to be safe. The incantation sounded like it was borrowing a line from a lullaby, so it seemed plausible that he’d been trying to cast a sleepfog—a terrifying spell that put enemies to sleep if they failed a resistance check. It was so broken that GMs concerned with game balance tended to treat it like a lost art, but my old tablemates had been the sorts to use anything in the toolbox; I had experience on both ends of its effects.
These guys sure used some awful tricks. If I dozed off, all my training would cease to matter. The story would be different if I had someone to watch my back, but I would be doomed by myself. Hadn’t anyone told them that it was bad manners to use crowd control on a hero without a party?
Admittedly, there was a chance that my Sympathetic Barrier would have blocked its effects, since it was a spell that affected my state of consciousness. Either way, I was still happy to prevent it from going off at all.
Thinking about it, this was probably how they’d managed to clean out the building without causing a scene. I wasn’t exactly the most sensitive listener ever, but not even I would have idly lounged in the sauna had I heard screams coming from the main building.
Dammit. I might’ve been able to save some of them if I had sharper ears...
But my frustrations and regrets would have to wait; there could still be more assailants lurking around. For now, I would need to apprehend these rogues and lug up the three I’d left in the changing room. Once Lady Agrippina was done pulling intel out of them, we could turn these crooks in to the local magistrate—their deaths wouldn’t come easily.
After finishing the knot binding the assassins together, I figured I should head back into our room. I’d left my Voice Transfer transmitter in my luggage, and wanted to put some clothes back on.
But just as I got up, something came flying through the hallway’s window without a sound.
I didn’t spend a single moment trying to process what the round object was before I tossed it right back out with an Unseen Hand. Immediately after, I shouldered my way into our room, hitting the floor with my hands on my ears and my mouth open.
A few seconds later, an explosion shook me so violently that I could feel my brain shake despite covering my ears. I didn’t know whether it was chemical or magical, but that thing had been a bomb. Isn’t that a bit extreme?!
As it turned out, my hunch that I hadn’t finished off the last of them had been right—and whoever was left was skilled enough to evade my Presence Detection to boot.
“Argh, you bastards! Give me a break!”
I couldn’t tell if the grenade was supposed to kill me or silence the failures for dropping the ball, but if they wanted a fight, I was happy to give them one. This was already a train wreck; what was another twenty or thirty goons? In fact, I’d just been thinking that all the poor innocent folks they’d killed might need some company to lead them back to the gods’ laps!
Pulling my cloak off the wall with a Hand, I slid into it and ran back out into the hall, summoning another invisible appendage to toss the goons into our room. With one foot on the windowsill, I looked around and saw nothing... So they’re above!
“Lottie, boost me!”
“Wha?! Um, ’kay!”
I twirled into the air and called the name of an alf sure to be loitering around somewhere or another. Despite her surprise at the sudden request, she managed to pull it off spectacularly.
Charlotte the sylphid could heed my call wherever the wind blew, and she summoned a gale as powerful as it was gentle to lift me onto the roof. A natural gust strong enough to carry a person would have come with an entire tornado behind it, but her physics-bending fey whirlwind carried me softly upward.
Perhaps that was why I managed to react to the dagger zooming my way.
As soon as I got up, I had to jump to the side to avoid the projectile precisely placed to send me falling back down. It had been a twitch reaction based solely on the dilute, yet palpable bloodlust tickling my senses. A flurry of shingles scattered as I broke my fall and instantly bounced myself to my left with an Unseen Hand—no sooner had I evaded the first round than another callous clump of steel barreled my way.
The follow-up attack split the air as it rained down on me: a rod-shaped dagger specially made for throwing. Had I let myself get comfortable after dodging the first, I would have paid the price now. While a weapon this small wouldn’t have spelled death, I would’ve sustained a serious injury.
My opponent was a genuine threat. Their presence and intent were so thin that I could hardly get a read on them; they were leagues above the oafs I’d mopped up downstairs.
Noticing that they were trying to sweep my landing, I held the Craving Blade close to my frame to block the hit, using the force of impact to buy myself some space. The attack had been so powerful that trying to stand my ground would’ve been suicide: while my sword could take the abuse, my body was better off rolling away the momentum over two or three somersaults.
Come to think of it, getting to take a movement action on a successful reaction made me a really annoying enemy to fight, huh?
Quips aside, I used the excess energy to regain my footing. Turning with the Craving Blade at the ready, I finally got my first good look at who I was fighting, and man, were they hard to describe at a glance.
The profile of their upper body was obscured by a hooded cloak, but the long trunk extending from below was anything but mensch-like. The army of thin legs propping them up pointed to a demihuman—probably either a millipede or centipede.
As the careening sun said its final goodbyes and the divine Father reclaimed His gift of sight, it became nearly impossible to make out even the broad strokes. What little sunset remained only served to cast a backlit shadow, and the only thing I could confirm was that an endless array of legs was poking through the cloth wrapping around their trunk.
This person was cautious enough to keep even their gender ambiguous, but the massive pole they carried was plainly visible. It was every bit as long as their wriggling trunk, and they twirled it around with great elegance as they sized me up for dodging their initial offensive.
This was...problematic. Their arms were long and flexible, and their weapon of choice was longer than anything a humanfolk could wield on our stubby legs. But most vexing of all...
“Hm?!”
...was their unreadable footwork!
Advancing on an abundant set of skittering appendages, my opponent maneuvered in ways that were far harder to anticipate than a fighter resting their weight on two. Legs were the foundation of movement, and usually, watching them and the chest was enough to get an understanding of how a fighter’s arms would move; together, that would suffice to scope out the angle of entry. But here, I had no idea how they’d approach.
Not only did their unorthodox gait free them from having to commit weight in any direction, but I was stuck floundering at how to best dodge or block, putting me on the back foot. Worse still, they stood up tall, flexing their trunk to extend their already-obnoxious reach into something that enabled wide arcs of attack from above.
The unstable footing of the roof didn’t help either: while they scurried up, down, left, and right with ease, I was struggling to take solid steps on the poorly cemented shingles. Every one of their deft steps felt like a mockery of my efforts.
But perhaps their most damnable trait was the raw power their giant frame provided. This utter monster could probably plow through a squadron of regular soldiers with ease.
Shit! You’re telling me a freak this strong was just waiting here in case the first group fucked up?! Gods, it would’ve been easier if they’d just come at me indoors!
The polearm whipped around at rapid speeds, engraving the air with a series of short arcs; but for as flashy as it seemed, their movements were delicacy incarnate. Drawn by the hefty metal spinning around, each curve of motion was simultaneously an attack and an invisible barrier barring my entry. As if their elegance in footwork weren’t enough, they were now skillfully eliminating any potential opening.
I knew we were opposed, but I couldn’t help but be impressed. This was a style of combat that betrayed a keen awareness of their physical boons, and I would’ve asked to see their character sheet for reference had I come across them over the table.
The precision of their attacks was just marvelous. For us on two legs, the great tragedy of offense was that every step introduced brief moments of instability; freed from such struggles, they carefully selected where to place their strikes, always finding the spot that would cause me the most trouble.
They were a genius, deserving of a more splendid stage than the shadows of assassination.
Since the centrifugal force bolstering their swings could crash straight through a half-assed defense, I opted for evasion as I stepped forward and eyed for an opening. Gripping my blade in reverse with both hands, I redirected a diagonal strike aimed for my shoulder. I’d used the same trick when dealing with the batons and spears wielded by the guards of Berylin; instead of suffering recoil in an attempt to knock the weapon away, it was better to gently guide it off its course. Sir Lambert had distilled years of fighting polearms on the battlefield into our lessons, and that pain was hard to forget.
I could tell this attempt had been particularly successful from the resistance against my hands, and I sensed an expression of surprise flash across my opponent’s hidden face. I bet they hardly felt the collision at all.
Now it was my turn to attack. Weapons with reach excelled at controlling space, but they suddenly turned into a weakness if I could get up close. Plus, unlike a lamia, this demihuman’s segmented legs couldn’t curve in every direction: they didn’t have the option of flinging their trunk forward as a whip. And while they could run backward at tremendous speeds, it wouldn’t be enough to shake me off.
Considering the skill of those I’d fought, this person was almost definitely in charge. I wasn’t going to let the biggest archive of intel get away. But just as I began considering whether a severed thumb would suffice, a terrible omen zipped across my neck.
I raised the Craving Blade on reflex. I heard the sharp clang of metal bouncing off metal...and felt the dull pain of something sinking into my gut. Swallowing back a groan, I made full use of my Lightning Reflexes to observe the first projectile gliding through the air: a throwing knife, painted in ash to obscure its form in the dark of night. Just like the first short sword I’d stolen, it was a tool of the trade, tailored for hushed kills.
But my opponent had thrown two.
By layering the second attack into the shadow of the first, they’d managed to hide its course. I’d seen such feats in manga, but never thought I’d see someone actually pull it off, and while wielding a polearm, to boot. The technique had been facilitated by the second set of arms peeking out that had thrown the projectiles while the main pair handled the battlestaff.
Ah, shit. I should’ve known. Had I given it some thought, I would’ve realized that they’d begun this encounter with both daggers and a pole swipe. Since the rod was too long to be wielded with one hand, I should’ve suspected another limb from the very start.
Boy, was I glad I’d grabbed my cloak. Despite its humble appearance, the inside of this mantle was actually lined with Lady Agrippina’s own defensive formulae, making it tougher than a two-bit set of armor. I’d been forced to keep my equipment down to the bare minimum for our trip, and this had been her way of making up for my loss in safety.
AC was prone to being ignored or written off with all sorts of poorly explained excuses, but it was vital to survival. Without this, I might’ve been screwed: from the angle it had hit me at, it could very well have hit my liver for an instant kill.
But just because I’d blocked it didn’t mean that this hurtling clump of steel in my gut didn’t hurt. So, figuring I’d pay back some of the pain, I turned up the engines and began hacking and slashing at full gear; I should’ve known from the start that this wasn’t a foe I could afford to go easy on.
I needed to do my absolute damnedest to kill them, and if they ended up alive after that, then that was a lucky break. Trying to secure anything more would just end badly for me.
The assassin toiled to block with their staff and pulled out more daggers at every turn, but two more attacks just meant two more opportunities to roll for counter actions.
And I, too, had cards hidden up my sleeve.
Trying to put themselves back in optimal range, my opponent desperately pedaled backward, but I stuck fast. Reaching a Hand into the pocket of my cloak, I pulled out the catalyst for my mystic flashbang. I’d hidden a few instances all over; knowing something like this would happen eventually, I wasn’t going to go around unprepared!
But I wasn’t done: passing the dagger that had hit me to another Unseen Hand, I thrust it forward. I mean, they’d gone out of their way to deliver me a new weapon. Wouldn’t it be rude not to make use of it?
The extending Hand was both more precise and more powerful than something soaring through open air. My promptly regifted present returned to its sender by lodging itself deep inside their shoulder. I did unto them as they had done unto me; I wasn’t necessarily trying to copy them, but admittedly ended up stealing their moves— Whoa?! That was close!
Unbelievably, the assassin used the inertia of being stabbed to tilt over backward and whip their legs at me in a kick—though the term felt strangely inaccurate—akin to a cracking whip.

Tprg 5.1

Spewing the most servile thing I could think of, I knelt before the couch she was laying on. I was prepared to submit myself to her whims.
Frankly, I had no delusions of trying to fool Lady Agrippina. She was the kind of playful—nay, mocking enemy found in the back of advanced rule books, whose existence was a challenge to the player: fight her if you dare. What was the point in trying to hide information from a monster that could bring down a full party of maxed-out PCs? If she felt like it, she could strip my soul bare with psychosorcery; an honest apology was a much, much better choice than lying.
“You have my deepest apologies for allowing guests in without your permission, be it only into the parlor as it was. This decision was mine and mine alone, and I am prepared to bear responsibility for it.”
“Oh, my loyal servant. It pleases me to see that you understand your own transgressions. After all, they say a retainer who cannot sense their master’s anger is fated to a short life.”
H-Holy shit. This was why the upper class were so scary: they could mull over the lives and deaths of us peasants as if it were chitchat, sporting the same thin smile and easy tone of voice as usual.
That said, I wasn’t a blithering enough idiot to show up without preparing an excuse—one good enough to convince the likes of the madam, at that. I told her the full story without any omissions or exaggerations: everything from how I met Miss Celia to how we’d helped her escape; the battle from last night; and my meeting and subsequent acquaintance with Lady Franziska.
Lady Agrippina listened to my tale in silence—laughter did not count—until I was completely finished. I couldn’t see what part of my misfortune was so amusing as to leave her gripping her sides in pain, but after I’d retold everything, she simply said, “I shall put it on your tab.”
“...What?”
“I’m saying that I shall let you off with the small debt of a single favor.”
Wiping a single tear from her eye, the madam named a price several times more frightening than a mere fine. Was I crazy, or was handing this woman a blank contract basically the same thing as suicide?
Wait, no. At least with suicide I’d get to die a peaceful death... Still, I supposed this was a better fate than someone of my standing could have realistically hoped for.
“A...favor?”
“Your account was entertaining, and it appears as though everything has been tied up nicely, so I don’t mind. I was able to confirm that you have some sense of your place, as well.”
“Is that truly acceptable?”
“The question of whether it’s acceptable or not is mired in all manner of issues, but consider this: had you handed that girl in, the situation would only have worsened. The grudge of a noble scorned is quite something.”
To tell the truth, I had planned on using that as another excuse. While Miss Celia wasn’t the type to obsess about revenge, there had been a chance that her pursuers were bandits merely masquerading as noble retainers. If I’d let her slip into their hands, who knew what her parents would do to me? Or even if they truly did belong to her house, it was possible that she’d resent me for foiling her getaway and exact vengeance on me after marrying—or so the justification went.
The real Miss Celia was a saint in all but name; I was sure such dark thoughts never even crossed her mind. Still, an enraged aristocrat was more than capable of fashioning guilt for a lower-class enemy to don.
“I should think this conclusion as clean as they come,” Lady Agrippina said. “Though I suppose you did nearly die again.”
“...Yes, well, I’d rather not experience my limbs flying off ever again.”
“I’m sure. They don’t grow back and are challenging to replace, so take care of them, will you?”
I don’t need to hear that from you—I know plenty well they don’t grow back. I was acutely aware that my irreplaceable arms and legs were only with me thanks to Miss Celia.
But come to think of it, who had that guy been, anyway? Lady Franziska had said not to worry because she’d administered him a “healthy dose of discipline,” but that mage had at least been on the level of a College professor. Trying to figure out why he’d been waiting for me—and trying to look cool doing it—confounded me to no end.
He’d appeared with all the pomp and circumstance of an unprepared GM rolling dice to figure out what kind of boss to place at the end of a mission. There was a palpable malice in his placement, as if I’d dodged the true final boss and forced the world to place an unavoidable encounter on my escape route to make sure the climax didn’t fizzle out. I’d seen this sort of thing before: once, my old crew and I had tried to pilfer the precious gems out of some ruin and were on the verge of escaping without incident when we randomly “discovered” that the pillars holding the place up had been crystal golems all along.
Judging from his demeanor, I could tell that the masked nobleman had been toying with me, but not much else. Seriously, why had that broken enemy just been waiting there?
“With that said,” Lady Agrippina went on, “strip.”
“Huh?”
“I said strip.”
Yes, ma’am.
Though her order came out of nowhere, I couldn’t talk back if she was going to insist. He who has wronged was ever at the mercy of she who has been wronged.
I took off the shirt I’d been given at the Bernkastel estate, and the madam stopped me, saying that my upper half would do. She then began to ogle with an unhidden gaze.
Personally, I found my young build lacking and frail, despite my developing muscles. My shoulders were beginning to gain definition, my limbs had started to grow stronger, and I’d long since left my childish potbelly behind; yet I was still far from the virile physique I was so enamored with.
More to the point, though, I’d already checked in the mirror to confirm that my detached arm and legs bore no trace of their gruesome injuries. Not only that, but my run-in with the crank of high rank had seen me tumbling this way and that; my “Daisy Blossom” spell alone had blasted me straight into a pillar. I should’ve looked mushier than a bruised banana, and yet I couldn’t find so much as a scab.
“Hmm...”
However, Lady Agrippina could see what I could not. Her gaze ran down an invisible line where my flesh had once parted. Even when I really put my mind to it, I couldn’t detect any lingering evidence of how reality had been warped; this was yet another example of how much more capable her eyes were.
Gods, it’s so tempting. If I could see the world as well as her, the edge I’d gain in arcane combat would be unquestionable. But a mystic swordsman couldn’t afford to divert points away from physical attributes; I didn’t want to spread myself too thin and end up being lousy at everything.
“The gods certainly do work miracles,” the madam mused. “Not even those flesh-crazed cultists of Setting Sun could graft skin this naturally. From a thaumaturgical standpoint, it is nearly as if your arm had never been severed at all.”
“I didn’t realize it was that impressive.”
“Nerves, arteries, bones and the marrow in them—human bodies are more than mere clay. One can cultivate replacement skins all day, but effort cannot replicate healing this perfect. I can see why those poor maniacs eye the faithful with such envy.”
Gently, Lady Agrippina’s finger reached out and traced the absent scar. Even though she caught me off guard, I remained totally sound of mind. Despite having already experienced a rather embarrassing accident during my trip to Wustrow, I had at least yet to let my preferences drift too far from reputability. Something instinctual in my soul whispered to my body: This one’s a no-go. Despite all the trouble my teen body had been causing me recently, I figured it deserved a bit of praise for its prudence here.
“Ahh, but there is residue of the magical variety: a spell that misaligns bits of space to render anything occupying it into mincemeat. How vulgar. An attack of this sort scoffs at the very notion of evasion and defense... Standard conceptual barriers would shatter instantly. What sort of depraved life must you live to come up with a means to turn mere embodiment into a weakness?”
Amazingly, Lady Agrippina managed to see through the true nature of the formula off the faintest leftover mana clinging to my wound. As impressive as her depth of knowledge was, I was too busy trembling at having been the target of the attack to marvel.
I’d been lucky to only have three limbs twisted off. If what she was saying was true, I should’ve been a reorganized mess of meat; the spell was like crumpling up a piece of paper to crush the stickman drawn on it.
“Mm, I’ve gotten the gist. I’ve memorized this mana signature; that will be enough.”
“What? Are you planning on looking into the person who attacked me?”
“Indeed. Though it isn’t as if I intend to avenge you or anything.”
“I know that much...”
“Call it a personal curiosity. Feel free to make yourself decent.”
A sweet fragrance wafted my way as I put my clothes back on: finished with a quick chore, the madam had decided it was time for a smoke break. I carefully tried to slip my neck through my shirt without letting my hair get caught, but just as I did, a cold voice cut through the cloth to sting my ears.
“It is a stroke of fortune that you’re alive...but I will not tolerate a second ‘all’s well that ends well, happily ever after.’”
The usual play in her tone was gone, and her reproach was not followed by a lighthearted confirmation; this was a warning in the truest sense. I jammed my head through my collar, hair be damned, and quickly got back on my knees.
“I am well aware.”
“Mm, very well. Anyhow, I shall be charging your patron from now on whenever money is involved, so make sure to see through the preparations on that end.”
“As you will.”
“I’m sure you’re very tired, so you may leave for today. Resume your duties tomorrow morning.”
Anger was most terrifying when it came from an ordinarily freehanded master; a happily ever after truly was too much to ask for. Though I didn’t regret my decision, this adventure of mine had come with a steep debt...

[Tips] Arcane limb replacement is an imperfect craft. Newly generated flesh is sure to differ in skin tone at minimum, and requires long hours of rehabilitation to reconnect and retrain the nervous system.
Meanwhile, the faithful cast miracles that outperform these mystic surgeries off the back of spiritualism alone. The magia who dedicate themselves to the arduous pursuit of knowledge often look at priests and the like with unjustified envy and anger.

Whether I was dying or Miss Celia was running for her life, the capital chugged along all the same. The only notable difference tonight was that there were far fewer guards walking the streets. Now that the chaos had subsided—I didn’t want to imagine what had gone on behind the scenes—there wasn’t much point in keeping watch at every corner, so I guessed it was inevitable.
Looking back, I felt awful about how I’d treated the dependable guardians of our city. My back had been against the wall, and I hadn’t been able to hold back as much as I would’ve liked; a fair number of them must have suffered broken bones. The crown offered good benefits, so they wouldn’t struggle to find treatment or get paid leave, but worsening their daily lives came with pangs of guilt.
Gingerly knocking someone out in one hit like some comic-book hero was an exacting task, but maybe that was just my own lack of skill talking. Unfortunately, people were too complex to go down after a single punch to the gut or neck, and smacking their heads was a shortcut to sustained injuries; strangulation didn’t keep people down long enough, so that wasn’t an option either. I could only ask that they lay the blame on my spineless performance and Miss Celia’s immature father—preferably at a one-to-nine ratio.
Speaking of benefits, I’d nearly forgotten. Mika and I had met up at the Bernkastel manor, where we’d celebrated our mutual safe returns and I’d honored her courageous devotion, but I had yet to recognize two of the most important contributors to our cause.
“Ursula, Lottie.”
I whispered too quietly for anyone else to hear, but clearly enunciated their names. A cool and refreshing breeze rolled by, sweeping away the lukewarm night.
Yet as the current faded, it left behind two gifts on my head. I didn’t need to look up; the alfar who had helped Miss Celia escape and whose valiant efforts indirectly saved my life were here.
They’d gone above and beyond for me. Had Miss Celia stowed away to Lipzi instead of calling for her aunt, I would have traded lives with that lunatic in the sewers at best. In the worst case, I could have missed my final shot and been reduced to chum without so much as avenging myself.
And of course, the young lady’s aeronautical adventure wouldn’t have succeeded without Ursula and Lottie’s help. The thing was a top imperial secret that would determine the political, economic, and military future of the nation: a posh girl oblivious to scouting methods was sure to be caught by security immediately without the help of these high-ranking fairies.
Alfar were so profoundly intimidating. If they could be bound to any sort of rhyme or reason instead of committing themselves to whimsy, I could see an entire new school of thought emerging amongst magia, dedicated to forging spells with fey assistance...though it was their unpredictability that made them fey in the first place.
“Here, Beloved One. Aren’t you a tad late with your summons?”
“Wah... I’m tiiired...”
Their voices were downcast enough to make it clear Lottie’s grumbling was founded in something real. I wonder if something happened to them.
“We received quite the earful, you see.”
“Ughhh, we got yelled at for helping too much...”
Apparently, some of the most important alfar had scolded them with scathing intensity. While I’d known that the kings and queens of the fey realm were closer to spirits and gods than the rabble, I wouldn’t have imagined that they’d be the ones directly rebuking these two.
Alfar were supposed to be aware of their own boundaries, keeping their meddling within reason. The two of them had answered my ambiguous request for them to help Miss Celia with enough effort to get them lectured.
...I guess they deserved a proper reward. They were my saviors, after all.
“Thank you both—I mean it. Is there anything I can do to repay you?”
“In that case, look over there.”
Ursula leaned over the edge of my head, and I followed her outstretched finger to see a small clearing. It was an empty area meant to contain fires, just like the one Mika had been waiting in on the day of the parade.
“What say you to a dance? I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep you to myself if I take you to the hill.”
“Sure, let’s dance.”
I made my way over to the square, and another breeze came to whisk away one of the weights on my crown. In its place, the beautiful, full-sized girl I’d first met all those nights ago appeared to greet me.
Her skin glimmered like deep honey under the moonlight, hidden only by overflowing currents of silver that blended into the orphic luminescence. Where the sterling river parted, the wings of a moon moth fluttered, blinking with otherworldly charm.
“Will you please take the lead?” she asked.
“Of course,” I answered.
Captivating, enchanting, and resolute, her vermilion eyes drooped into a smile.
Taking her small, graceful hand in mine, we began to dance. Ours was not a ballroom waltz in measured time, but the free movements of a rustic country swing; we spun around and around, drawing close and stepping away as it struck our fancy. As I twirled the same way I had during the festivals back in Konigstuhl, the svartalf elegantly moved to match.
We gently spun, then hugged and spun back, alternating steps as we faced one another. Locking our arms together, we used each other’s legs as axes to swing around and around. While I had to be careful not to drop Lottie—she was still busy pondering what she wanted—I merrily sustained the dance until beads of sweat began to form on my skin.
Seeing her alluring skin take on a faint blush in this festive mood made me understand the feelings of those who gave into temptation and were spirited away to the everlasting hill of twilight. Even though I wouldn’t go myself, I could tell it was surely a jolly place, free from any suffering. Had I lacked my promise with Margit, my duty to Elisa, or my family, maybe I wouldn’t have thought it such a terrible fate.
“That was wonderful.”
“Yeah, it sure was,” I said. “But man, I didn’t think I’d sweat like this considering how much training I do.”
We’d spent a whopping half hour dancing, and it was only now that I realized I was toeing a dangerous line. If others could see Ursula, then I was going to become an urban legend about some crazy kid dancing with alfar; if not, then I was just a lunatic dancing alone. Either way, an onlooker would call for the guards if they spotted me. While we’d thankfully managed to enjoy our dance without anyone bothering us, that was a bit careless of me.
“A boy’s sweat is a sacred thing,” Ursula said. Then, turning to Lottie, she said, “And what about you? I’ve had my fun, but how long are you going to think about this?”
“Um, ummm... Oh, oh! There’s a lot I want, but I’d like one locky, please!”
“Of my hair?”
I tilted my head, confused as to why she’d want that. But apparently, a blond child’s hair was literally worth its weight in gold amongst fairies.
“Oh, ohh!” Ursula shouted. “No fair! I should’ve chosen that too!”
“No!” Lottie shouted back. “You already got a dancy, Ursula! The locky is Lottie’s!”
“This isn’t fair! You would be dried jerky in that cage by now if it weren’t for me!”
“Nuh-uh! Would not! Lottie was napping!”
Ignoring their yapping back and forth, I untied my hair and cut off a small portion to bundle up for her. Long ago, imperial citizens used to weave decorative cords out of their hair, but modern spinning technology meant that only the poorest still did. I had no idea what she was going to use this for.
“Wow! Pretty! Thanks, Lovey One!” Smaller than the bundle of hair she was squeezing, Lottie happily twirled around while humming, “What oh what should I use it for?”
On the other hand, the fairy of the night was glaring at her friend with murderous envy... This was one of those episodes that would evolve into a grudge later, wasn’t it?
“Okay, okay, fine. Ursula, you can have one too, and Lottie gets a dance.”
“Huh? Are you sure? I mean, I’d be happy to accept if you’re willing.”
“Really?! I get a locky and a dancy?! Yay!”
For me, seeing someone’s mood sour before my eyes was much more taxing and bothersome than doing a bit of extra work. Besides, cutting off a bit of hair and dancing was nothing compared to what they’d done for me. Even if my actions bore more meaning than I knew, even if I was paying a hefty price that I couldn’t yet see, I thought I had a responsibility to repay them for saving my life.
I lopped off another tuft of hair, which pleased Ursula greatly. Then Lottie took my outstretched hand—still small—and invited me to dance. I think opinion may be split on whether or not ours counted as a “dance,” but she seemed content to hold on to my finger and zip around, so I figured it was fine.
“By the way, what are you going to do with that hair?”
“I wonder,” Ursula said. “What will I do with it? A necklace or hairpiece would be lovely, but I’d adore a ring or anklet too.”
“Lottie’s gonna ask for clothes!”
Accessories and clothing? Did alfar have the ability to process human hair into cloth? They sounded like a certain nomadic horse-riding people on the surface, which did not help make them less scary.
Regardless, I was just happy that they were happy. But while I could swing a sword for hours on end, my legs and hips were incredibly sore from just a bit of dancing. Maybe it was because I wasn’t used to it.
With my debts repaid, I was ready to go home and get some sleep...but then noticed that Ursula’s cheery mood had vanished, and that she was staring straight at me.
“...Is there something wrong?”
“I know you’ve given us two whole rewards, but let me say one last thing.”
Two and three aren’t all that different. I nodded her along, and her expression only grew graver.
“The next time you find yourself risking your life in combat, don’t cast us away, will you?”
“Oh...”
She went there. True: had these two been with me, the fight would have gone more smoothly. I might not have even needed a last-minute rescue at all. Magecraft generally only affected targets that the caster could perceive, so Ursula’s stealth could have protected me from attacks; Lottie’s wind would have been perfect for throwing off the hounds’ noses and pushing away the bugs.
However, without their help, who knows what would’ve happened to Miss Celia?
Unable to come up with a response, I stood there in silence. Watching me, Ursula came to her own conclusions and shrank back down with a quiet giggle.
“What a helpless boy.”
And just like when they’d appeared, a passing breeze whisked the alfar away. All that was left in their wake was a sweaty fool still bumbling for the right answer.
What was I meant to do?
My mind spun trying to digest her request, but only one thing made itself certain to me: I would ask those two to help me again if something important to me was on the line. Despite knowing I risked earning their ire, I had more to protect than met the eye if I wanted to stay true to myself.
“Man...”
I retied my hair and looked up at the moon, but not even the ever-shining Goddess of Night would bless me with the answer.

Conqueror 1.7

“The thing is, I don’t actually want the role. If another candidate steps up, I’ll happily step aside.”
“Huh?” Myalo froze for a moment. “B-But didn’t you play a pivotal role when your father was chosen as successor?”
Is someone spreading rumors? That scares me. How’d Myalo ever find that out?
“Only because the other candidate was worthless trash. He might’ve taken revenge on us if we hadn’t completely crushed him there and then.”
“B-But...isn’t your incredible academic performance the result of you working hard to be a worthy head?”
I’m not working hard; I’m being worked hard. Not that it’s all that arduous. I guess I could refuse, but then what would I do instead?
“I’m going along with the arrangement because I’ve got time on my hands. I was originally planning to become the manager of a bird ranch, and I still haven’t given up on the idea.”
“A r-ranch manager? I can’t tell whether you’re serious or making a joke.”
“It’s no joke. You don’t think managing a ranch is a good job?”
Managing a ranch is a great job.
After living in the Ho family’s manor for a few years, I’d started to think that being a knight might not be so bad. I’d even started to hope for it. But even with the passage of time, I was still incredibly reluctant to become head of the family. I’d watched Rook in the role, and it didn’t look like fun. I didn’t consider him unfortunate, but he didn’t appear any happier than before.
On the other hand, we had much more cash to spare, as well as the privilege of being courted by high society. Also, Suzuya no longer had to wash clothes in cold water with her bare hands. But these things weren’t direct causes of happiness. Rook, Suzuya, and I all preferred our old life, I was sure of it. Managing a bird ranch seemed like such a better fit for Rook and me, to the point that I considered us more fortunate back then.
I wasn’t about to abandon my responsibilities after going so far to create this path for us, but if someone exceptionally talented appeared to take my place, I’d happily step aside.
“Uh... Well, yes, it certainly is. But don’t you want the position? You’ll be the head of a chieftain family.”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
My talk with Carol went just like this. All that stuff about, “You were born to a chieftain family and yet you possess none of the dignity of a knight. You’re a disgrace.”
Most boarding students were probably living aimlessly while following their parents’ instructions, so my attitude wouldn’t particularly bother them, but Myalo was the second or third highest-ranking student. He must’ve worked hard to get there. Much like Carol, he’d achieved so much by taking pride in all of his hard efforts. He might’ve even been the top student if I hadn’t been here, so I had to choose my words carefully.
“It’s not that I don’t want the role, it’s just that being a ranch manager felt like a better fit. Anyway, it all depends on my cousin.”
“Oh... Well, it’s really none of my business, but I think you’d be well-suited to headship. And not just because you can study—you’re courageous too.”
“Am I? I think I lack determination.”
If I was courageous, my past life wouldn’t have turned out how it did. I was trash who let authority figures control me, and then I turned into a shut-in because I couldn’t get over being dumped by a woman. Hardly courageous.
“To be honest, the chances of my cousin finding herself a boy like that are slim. More than likely, I will be the head of my family someday.”
That wasn’t to say that there weren’t any boys out there who’d want to marry Sham. There’d certainly be no shortage of men wanting to get together with her for her family’s status, but that was no good. Unless Sham married for love, she’d be unhappy.
The potential groom also had to come from a suitably high-status knight family and needed to possess the unmistakable potential to become a much better leader than me. Also, they couldn’t be trash like Rakunu—I had to be sure that they’d leave Rook his territory and let us live in peace. The odds of someone meeting all of those criteria were astronomical. I doubted that such a person existed anywhere. That meant that the chances of Sham’s husband becoming head of family weren’t just slim, they were close to zero.
Given that I understood all of this, I probably shouldn’t have been telling people I didn’t want to be the head.
“Y-Yes... Indeed...” Myalo’s eyes were glazed over and lifeless.
Why is all this such a big shock for him?
Ordinarily, entering the royal guard would be the most ideal future for someone like Myalo. He’d be so detached from matters of chieftain family headship that he had no need to worry about it. I could only assume that he loved chieftain families so much that the idea of someone not wanting to be in charge of one was unthinkable to him.
“How about we talk about course schedules instead?” I suggested. “It’ll be nice if we’re in the same classes.”
“Y-Yes, let’s do that.”
V
Myalo and I had made and submitted our schedules together, and now it was the following day. I’d spent the night before in the dorm and on high alert, watching out for any attempted attacks from Dolla.
Although it wasn’t a national holiday, the academy was closed. The new academic year would begin when the academy reopened from a long vacation tomorrow, and there’d be an opening ceremony the day after that.
I woke up early and descended the stairs to get breakfast. The smell of fresh bread baking already filled the air in the dinner hall.
But when I entered, something didn’t seem right. There was a strange tension in the air. The mood should’ve been lethargic since everyone had just gotten up, but people were talking excitedly, as though something had gotten them worked up.
I soon realized why. A very conspicuous, blonde-haired girl was having breakfast in the dining hall. It was Carol, the princess. The dorm’s ten-year-old boys were all sitting some distance from her, as if they had no idea how to approach a girl of such dazzlingly noble birth. Nonetheless, they took great interest in her as they ate.
Carol’s gaze met mine the moment I came down the stairs, and she more or less scowled at me. I half expected her to say hello, but she didn’t, so I thought it best to avoid her. I chose to eat my perfectly ordinary breakfast as far away from her as possible. It wasn’t long before I’d finished eating.
I got dressed and ready to head out, taking great care to avoid waking Dolla, who was still sound asleep. I left while it was still early morning and took the same route I’d taken after being sent home the other day. I soon arrived at the Ho family residence.
I hadn’t been told exactly when my family was leaving this morning, so I worried I might’ve been late. Apparently I’d made it just in time, though, because the line of soldiers that were meant to escort Rook and Suzuya home were just about to set out.
“Hey. What’s up, Yuri?” Rook was surprised to see me appear unannounced. He jumped down from the carriage.
“Good morning. I walked here hoping I might see you off.”
“Oh. Did you sleep well?”
Before I could answer, Suzuya called my name as she hurriedly climbed down. Moving so quickly in the long skirt she wore was dangerous.
“Mom.”
“Thanks for coming. Do your best at school,” she said as she hugged me tight.
“I will. And you take care of yourself. Dad, I didn’t have any trouble last night, so I think I’m going to be okay,” I reassured him. I knew my words would put Suzuya at ease too.
“All right,” he replied. “Just don’t overdo it. Though I’m sure you’ll be fine whatever happens.”
“Yes, I think I’ll manage.”
“If it’s too much for you, just come home. It won’t be any trouble for us at all,” Suzuya said.
“I know. Could you let me go now, mom?”
I don’t want everyone thinking I’m some weird momma’s boy.
Suzuya released me like I’d asked.
“Both of you take care of yourselves,” I said while waving them off.
They set off with their procession of guards back to Ho Province.
Since I had the day off, I decided to spend the rest of it having fun.
That said, my only hobby besides taking care of eagles was going for walks, so I was just going to go on a stroll. Rook had already shown me all the impressive sights the capital had to offer, so I just planned to wander aimlessly and explore the various streets.
My brand-new Knight Academy uniform stood out too much, so I changed into some other clothes that I’d packed before I’d left the dorm earlier. I hid the bag I’d used to carry my clothes in a patch of long grass. I managed to slip through the busy front gate while the guards were changing shifts, which left me free to explore the city.
I went along while examining Sibiak’s stone buildings. Despite everything Myalo had said about witches running this place and making life tough for everyone, the royal capital appeared to be thriving. The stores allowed people to enter and leave freely, and food vendors had their wares on display in the front windows. This sort of setup wouldn’t have worked in a crime-filled city. At the very least, law and order here was sufficient for businesses to operate safely.
Either Myalo had been exaggerating—a certain level of order and economic stability was necessary for the witches to ensure their profits—or they feared the queen stepping in if they took things too far. It was hard to guess the answer just from seeing the streets. No doubt I’d come to understand things much better after living here for over ten years.
I was getting further away from the Ho residence as I walked the streets, taking whichever turn took my fancy. I continued for some time. Sibiak had the layout of a planned city, and everything was so neatly arranged that I couldn’t get lost.
I already knew that the streets became less safe further away from Royal Castle Island, especially in the western areas where the slums were located. That was why I headed east instead. More stores began to open for daily business as I strolled around.
A store soon caught my eye—a cutler that sold weapons. My habits over the past few years must’ve shaped my interests. I entered to take a look.
I was surprised to find folding knives out on display. I picked one up and noticed that it didn’t even have a locking mechanism—it folded back into the handle easily when a little pressure was placed on the back of the blade. Such a tool might’ve been useful for turning fish into sashimi on a chopping board while out fishing, but it would be a terrible idea to use this thing in a fight. Even if it was all you had with you, the impractical design meant that you’d need more than a few spare fingers.
Hunting knives were also being sold alongside meat cleavers that a butcher might use. There were no tools with gut hooks; the type used for skinning animals. I imagined those would sell well, but then other stores would just copy the design. I abandoned the thought and left the merchandise behind.
The storekeeper looked concerned about seeing a child wander in to play with the knives, so I didn’t stay long.
I walked a little further and found a store with various large piles of charcoal out front—black, white, and rounded pieces made from large branches. When I got closer, I caught its distinct, powdery scent. I didn’t know much about the stuff, but it looked suitable for daily use around the home. I assumed that the black and white types had different uses.
There was also a store that appeared to sell old clothes that had been re-dyed. Outside, an eye-catching indigo cloth declared, “We Re-Dye Clothes” in white letters. The merchants here were finding ingenious methods to draw in customers, just as they did everywhere else.
I walked further and found a tavern where several burly men sat out front drinking. That made me wonder whether I’d wandered into an unsafe area. There were various other stores besides the cutler, charcoal seller, and old clothes store, but they were all for commoners and their goods didn’t look high-quality. I didn’t feel like hanging around in case someone tried to steal my coin purse, so I decided to stick to looking around the stores in the safer areas until I became more familiar with the city.
I’d been heading to the southeast, rather than the west, but this looked like a downtown area. I turned around and began retracing my steps.
I’d only gone twenty meters or so before I heard a strange racket coming from a narrow alleyway. What sounded like a young girl screamed things like, “Waaaaah!” and “Let go!” Then there was a clatter, as though something had been kicked over. It sounded like someone being abducted.
So that kind of crime happens around here too. How horrible.
My family ruled over Ho Province, not royal territory. Sticking my nose in where it didn’t belong—in other words, around here—would be like getting involved in another family’s business. I decided that rather than dwell on what was happening, I’d pretend not to notice until I found someone to report it to.
But I just couldn’t resist sneaking a glance into the alley where it was all going on. That was when I saw something that could only mean trouble—a mess of disheveled blonde hair.
✧✧✧
“Let go of me!”
“Hey! Cover her mouth!”
Maybe it’s just someone else with blonde hair? I wondered. But no, it was Carol—sparkling brand-new Knight Academy uniform and all. What’s she even doing here? It’s enough to give me a headache.
When I thought about it rationally, I realized that we were unlikely to have bumped into one another if we’d left the academy separately, so she’d likely followed me. What I really wanted to know was what she’d been thinking when she’d decided to do that.
A large hat had fallen from her head, so she’d presumably made some effort to hide her blonde hair. Unfortunately, wearing such a well-tailored hat in a region where barely anyone wore new clothes just made her stand out more. Plus, she was easy to kidnap because she was a child. She might as well have painted a target on herself.
“Ngh... Waaaah! Someone help!”
“Shut it.”
Smack! One of the men—there were four in total—struck her with his palm. It connected with Carol’s soft cheek as she screamed and struggled. He’d hit her full force. It must’ve hurt.
Wow, he got her good. I’ve felt like doing that myself sometimes.
“Mnngh, mnnngh!”
In the short period that Carol had been stunned by the slap, a dirty rag was forced into her mouth to gag her.
Well... I can’t just leave her.
The smart thing to do might’ve been to walk off like I didn’t care, then return to tail them back to their den. But I worried about how the kidnappers might react when they realized Carol was a princess. There was every chance they’d decide to kill her. Abducting a princess and then holding the kingdom ransom was a crime way beyond mere kidnapping. They’d be hounded to the ends of the earth. But the dead tell no tales, so killing her would lower the chances of them being identified.
I might’ve been able to discover their lair and inform the authorities, but Carol could be dead before anyone had time to rescue her. I couldn’t pay the ransom myself either. I’d happily leave it to the royal family to fork over—maybe it would teach them to be more careful in the future—but I’d regret leaving her if she was killed. In fact, I was only guessing that they planned to hold her for ransom. I couldn’t be sure they weren’t a bunch of pedos who just wanted to have their way with a young girl.
In any case, it would be too risky to take my eyes off them while they had Carol.
“What are you looking at, brat?!” one of the men yelled when he noticed me leaning against a wall and calmly analyzing the situation.
Carol noticed me and desperately tried to cry for help. “Mhh!”
“Um, are you kidnapping her to hold her for ransom?”
The man only made a noise in response to my question. “Huh?”
If they weren’t willing to talk to me, I’d have to do some explaining first.
“The truth is, I’m one of that unruly girl’s servants. If you’re kidnapping her, then I’m sure her family will pay the ransom, but if you intend to force yourselves on her, your crime won’t go unpunished.”
“We’re after the ransom,” he answered willingly.
The man who spoke was the one who’d slapped Carol a moment ago. He seemed to be the boss.
He was oddly calm considering this was a kidnapping. Perhaps my lie made him think that requesting a ransom was going to be easy. He regarded me with an unnervingly cold stare. I’d seen eyes like that often among the Ho family—he looked like a soldier who’d made it back from the battlefield. I didn’t fear the others, since they looked like weaklings who were in over their heads. But I wasn’t sure whether I could best this particular man.
Hmm... He’d make a tough opponent. I’d better not fight him.
“Nggh! Mmmmh!” Carol was desperately trying to tell me something. Nothing helpful, I was sure. It was fortunate that they’d gagged her.
“Then perhaps you’ll take me with you? I’m worried about her. You’ll gain a higher ransom if you have us both.”
✧✧✧
“Now tell us who you are.”
They’d bound my hands behind my back, blindfolded me, and brought me here. Now the small-time crooks were interrogating me. Their boss kept his distance.
They clearly had no idea that the blonde girl they’d found wandering around downtown was the queen’s eldest daughter. They must’ve taken Carol for a stupid girl who’d wandered off from some high-class family.
Either they were reluctant to question her, or they worried that injuring her might lower the value of the ransom. For now, I was the one being subjected to a harsh interrogation. They might’ve gone easier if I actually cooperated, though.
“Who?” I echoed. “You know, I think I’ve forgotten.”
“Start talking, kid!” the man smacked me across the cheek, knocking me over.
Jeez, that hurts. Good thing I’m used to pain already. This would’ve terrified me back before I met Soim.
“Mmmmmh!” Carol cried and did her best to scream.
The last thing I wanted was for her to tell them she was a princess.
Come on guys. I’m clearly not talking, so stop hitting me. You know what you need to do.
“See what he’s got on him. There might be something to tell us who he is,” the boss commanded.
Finally.
“All right, boss,” the crook replied promptly. “On your feet!”
With that, he yanked me up from my chair. This was just what I wanted. I’d been waiting for it. They’d searched Carol right away, but since they thought I was a mere servant, they hadn’t checked my things yet. There was a hurdle that I couldn’t deal with until they did so.
“Huh? This is fancy... Hey, he’s rich.”
As the crook searched my pockets, he found a purse and dagger, which he placed on a table.
Now how will they react?
“This dagger... The girl must be one of the Hos,” the boss said.
Wow. He actually recognized my family crest...
A metal fitting engraved with the family crest was inlaid into the dagger’s hilt. Now I knew how to deal with the complications it caused. The royal family apparently wasn’t so concerned about weapons. Carol’s dagger was very well-made, but it didn’t have her family crest on it. It turned out my belongings were more revealing than hers.
“Well, the secret’s out. The girl here is Sham Ho, daughter of the Ho family’s previous head.”
Since I was left with no other option, I decided to make use of Sham’s name. I’d been hoping that I could pass Carol off as a daughter of one of the seven witches, such as the Cursefit family, but I couldn’t have done so too early. If I’d told him that before anyone looked at my dagger, my family crest would’ve contradicted me. That’s why I had to sacrifice my cheek while I waited for their reaction. I hadn’t actually expected these small-time crooks to be familiar with the Ho family crest.
“Then...that makes her Gok Ho’s daughter?”
Huh? He’s heard of Gok? How’s he know so much about my family? That’s creepy.
“Yes, that’s right,” I said.
“But she’s got blonde hair. Isn’t that a sign of royal descent?”
“Her paternal grandmother was born to the royal family. Her mother, too, is a distant relative of the royalty. Lady Sham has royal blood.”
Obviously, this was a lie, but I’d be very surprised if they knew what my family tree looked like.
“Ah... Ha ha. Who’d have thought I was abducting his daughter?” There was a note of self-loathing in the boss’s laugh. I got the impression that he’d known Gok personally.
Those who’d fought under our family and survived in battle could expect to enjoy greater wealth in their future because they’d likely be promoted when the family’s army was restructured. It was hard to imagine why a Shiyaltan veteran would have to resort to abducting people. Then again, it was possible that he was a soldier from the Kilhina Kingdom.
“We’ve gotta eat somehow. Nothing personal,” he said.
“Are you going to do something I might take personally?”
I thought he might’ve let us go if he felt indebted to the Hos, but no such luck.
“No. Just collecting that ransom.”
Carol and I were then imprisoned in a storeroom. There was a window that had been haphazardly sealed shut. Columns of light shone in through a large gap in the woodwork and illuminated the floating dust.
Although our arms were still tied up, our legs weren’t. Maybe they didn’t want the trouble of dragging us around whenever we needed the toilet.
“Why’d you get caught? You could’ve escaped without me,” Carol muttered.
She sat in the corner of the room with her knees raised to her chest. I could’ve explained that they might’ve killed her—or worse—if they’d realized she was a princess, but I figured she was too young to understand.
“You would’ve preferred it if I didn’t save you?”
“That’s not what I mean. You wouldn’t have been caught if you’d abandoned me. And you wouldn’t have gotten hit across the face like that...”
You’ve hit me across the face yourself! Carol did at least appear to feel guilty about what we were going through, so I kept that thought to myself. But why would I abandon her? What type of person does she think I am? I saved her back during the entrance ceremony too. Why does she keep classifying me as subhuman trash? What did I ever do to her?“Because we know each other, kinda. And it’s my fault for not realizing that you were following me,” I explained.
“I-I wasn’t...” Carol buried her face into her knees in embarrassment now that her following me was out in the open.
I figured it was better not to give her a hard time over it. I wanted to say a few things like, at least change out of your uniform, or, use your head next time, but I kept those feelings inside. I’d been bottling up so much lately that I worried I might eventually explode.
“We’ll be all right. You don’t need to get so down.”
“We’ll be all right...? We’ve been kidnapped. Think how much the ransom will be...”
“If all we lose is money, then we’ve gotten off lightly. Anyhow, we might get rescued.”
“Maybe you’re right. My escorts might come looking for us...”
She has escorts? It looked like she was eating breakfast all by herself this morning. Are there secret service members hiding around the dorm? Well, I doubt they’d let the princess go off stalking someone—she must’ve given them the slip.
“Then let’s hope your escorts save us. I’m from a family of warriors, so getting kidnapped and held for ransom won’t be good for my reputation.”
“Oh... This’ll damage your reputation? Sorry...” Carol sounded genuinely apologetic.
“Forget it. Do you know how to fight, Princess?”
“Don’t call me that. Carol is fine.”
“Okay... Carol.”
Getting on first-name terms with her like this feels a little awkward.
“Can you fight?”
“I thought I could... But I froze up when it mattered. It made me wonder what all my training’s been for...”
She’s received training? What kind?
Mine had come from Soim. In my final lesson, he’d made me fight bare-handed against an adult prisoner wielding a staff...although he probably would’ve stepped in if he had to. Soim tended to go to extremes.
“Well, you can’t help that.”
“There’s no excuse... It’s shameful...”
The highborn princess was holding herself to excessively high standards once again. After all, how many ten-year-old girls were capable of fighting with adult men?
“Well...” I couldn’t think of anything to say to console her. There was no denying that Princess Stalker had gotten herself into this situation by following me. Whatever I said would probably do more harm than good.
After we’d waited quietly for a while, we finally heard some noise from the next room. The kidnappers had been talking in hushed voices, but now we heard some movement. First, there was a clattering sound from a chair or some other object hitting the ground as they moved it. Then there was a bang, as if a door had been closed.
“Would you mind getting on your hands and knees under that window there?”
Carol raised her head.
“Huh...? Why?” she asked distrustfully.
“If you’re really sorry for getting me caught up in all this, then get on your hands and knees. And hurry.”
“Guh... H-Hands and knees...?”
“I’m not going to stand on your head and make you apologize. Just do it. We don’t have time.”
“F-Fine...” Carol reluctantly got down on all fours. “This is h-humiliating...”
I stood on Carol’s back, then got on my tiptoes so that I could see through the crack in the shoddily patched window. We appeared to be on the second floor, facing out onto a back alley. When I pushed my face right against the crack, I could just about see what was below us.
I saw the boss walking through the alley. Luckily, I could recognize his clothes.
“Ngh.”
After I got off Carol’s back, I started fiddling with one of my fairly long sleeves. My hands were still tied behind my back, but that didn’t stop me from pulling out something I’d hidden in my cuff.
“What do you think you’re doing? You can’t use princesses as stepping stools.”
The tool—something that resembled a ring attached to a short metal saw—had been sewn into the hem of my sleeve by a single thread. It was designed to help Ho family members escape if they were ever taken captive by the Kulati. I’d heard several stories of people using it to break free after being bound up.
“Give me a moment. Now that he’s gone, I can handle this.”
I broke the string and pulled the small saw out. Once I had it in my hand, I pressed it to the rope that bound my arms and moved it back and forth with small movements. The ring allowed me to apply a good amount of pressure, and I could feel the blade digging deeper and deeper into the narrow rope.
This wasn’t a task that required extreme amounts of time and patience—I managed to break free in about fifteen minutes. The tool had served its purpose.
“How...?” Carol was dumbfounded by the sight of me with my arms free.
“Keep your voice down,” I whispered while working to untie Carol.
“You...this whole time...”
“Every adventure starts with some preparation.”
Getting kidnapped had been just as much of a risk for me as for her, so I’d prepared myself ahead of time. I’d set out feeling confident that I knew how to deal with every scenario within reason, though I hadn’t banked on a member of the royal family stalking me.
“But now what?” she asked. “Can we get out the window?”
“It’s the second floor, so that won’t work.”
We could’ve broken the window open, but the ground was quite a ways down, and the opening faced out onto an alley with nothing but houses around it. In other words, there were no large eaves or anything that we could jump down onto.
“You’re going to fight?” Carol asked.
“Well... Maybe...”
There was still one cause for concern. I crouched down and squeezed Carol’s thigh with both hands.
“Wha—”
Next, I patted her butt. Her muscles were firm, and her lower body was in good shape. I felt sure she could outrun a few ill-trained adults.
“What are you doing?! Blackguard!”
Smack! Carol hit me across the head as hard as she could.
Whoa. She’s making too much noise.
“Does a maiden’s honor mean nothing to you?! Pig!” Her face had turned bright red with fury.
I hurried over to the right side of the storeroom doorway.
“Quick! Pretend your arms are still bound!” I urged while gesturing by putting my own wrists together.
Carol still had just enough presence of mind to suppress her anger and put her arms behind her back.
She was so loud. All I did was touch her butt. Oh, wait...that would make her mad, wouldn’t it?
“Keep it in your pants, you filthy brat!”
One of the crooks clearly thought I was up to something unspeakable. He entered through the door beside me, fuming with rage.
“Huh? Where’s that dirty ra—”
As soon as he’d stepped into the room, I kicked him as hard as I could, aiming for the back of his knee.
“Ngh!”
I didn’t give him time to form words. The kick made him buckle, and his shoulder tilted backward. I grabbed it and pulled him down to the ground. As he fell, I claimed the dagger—well, more of a hunting knife really—that he’d been wearing at his waist. To finish, I plunged it into his thigh before withdrawing it.
“Gah... The little shit stabbed me!”
With the boss gone, his gang of crooks had apparently seized the opportunity to sit down and play cards. Now that one of their members was down, another quickly stood up and came dashing at me. He pulled out a similar weapon from his pocket, so I threw the knife in my hands.
Knife throwing was a special sort of skill, but even a clumsy attempt with no chance of sticking the target would be enough to scare them.
“Hah?!”
The crook used his own blade to repel my knife, but by then I’d already gotten close. I kicked him in the groin before he had a chance to use the weapon he was holding.
“Guh-gaaah!” he screamed and curled up into a ball.
“Carol! Let’s go!” I yelled.
“Hold it, brats!”
There was still one last thug to deal with, but the man who was currently on the ground clutching his crotch had been the one blocking our escape route. The remaining crook had drawn his weapon, but he was too cowardly to charge at me.
When I looked around the room, I noticed our belongings—both our daggers and our coin purses—had been gathered in two neat piles on a table in the corner. They’d been left in plain sight, which suggested that the boss had full trust in his men.
Carol came running out of the storeroom as I snatched up our things, but the man I’d stabbed earlier grabbed her by the leg to stop her leaving.
“Get off me! You lowlife!”
As Carol shouted, I threw an earthen pot toward them, and it hit the man on the arm. He released his grip, setting Carol free.
The coward who’d been afraid to come at me must’ve thought Carol was an easier target, but I threw another sturdy, glazed pot at him when he tried to go for her. I heard it shatter as I unlatched the door and kicked it open.
“Carol! This way!”
“R-Right!”
As Carol came out, I took a handful of coins from my wallet and threw them on the floor. Hopefully, the crooks would stop to pick them up.
Although we’d been blindfolded, I’d paid attention to the route when they’d led us through the building, so I knew where the exit was. I ran down the stairs of what I imagined was some kind of apartment building or warehouse. The exit door was unbarred, so we easily got out.
“Whoa,” a voice said.
I turned right and was faced with the boss who had left just a short while ago. I thought he’d gone to confirm our identities and decide on a ransom, but maybe he’d forgotten something, because he was back already.
“Carol! This way!”
“Wait!” he cried.
I grabbed Carol’s arm and ran along the alley in a direction that took us away from the main street. I’d also made sure to throw the exit door wide open, hoping it would block the narrow alleyway.
We ran for about six meters before arriving at a sharp right turn in the alley. There was a gap between the buildings on the left too, but it was barely wide enough to fit my arm into—only a rat could’ve gone that way. We had no choice but to go right.
But before we continued, I looked back and saw that the door was still wide open.
“Carol, stop.”
“Wh-Why?”
He’s not chasing us. But why not?
If a complex series of branching streets lay ahead, he’d have to worry about losing sight of us. But even if this led to a dead end, there was no reason not to follow. That meant that this alley would probably take another right turn and lead out onto the main street. There we’d find the boss waiting to cut us off.
“We’re heading back,” I declared.
“Are you—”
“I’m sure.”
Carol was hesitant to head back toward the enemies we’d just escaped from, but I didn’t have time to explain it. I pulled her by the arm and ran back through the alley.
After violently kicking the door out of our way, I saw the alley straight ahead of us was deserted.
“Let’s go,” I blurted out before running out onto the main street.
I looked to my left. Sure enough, the boss was on the main street, waiting for us to emerge from another alley.
“Wait! You damn brats!” he cried when he spotted us.
He began to chase after us. I reached into my wallet, pulled out several gold coins, and threw them onto the street.
We ran as fast as we could, leaving a trail of coins in our wake. The boss ignored them as he chased us, but the same couldn’t be said for everyone else. The sharp-eared paupers in the area heard the clatter of gold coins hitting the paved ground. They descended on them in a frenzy, blocking the boss’s path and preventing him from catching us.
I repeated the same trick as we ran. We lost him quickly, but that didn’t mean we were safe just yet. We kept running for as long as we had the energy to.
Carol was the first to give in. “Hah, hah, wait. Wait up.”
We’d made it far. I was also tired and starting to run out of breath. I was a confident long-distance runner, so Carol must’ve trained hard to have been able to keep up with me.
I looked back for signs of anyone following us. “Haah, haah... I think...we’re fine now.”
We’d been following one of Sibiak’s curved streets, heading north, until we reached one of the major streets that radiated out from the city’s center. The region grew safer the further we traveled.
In fact, this was a familiar street. I remembered visiting it with Rook, and knew we were near the capital’s center. We were likely to encounter soldiers from the royal guard here. The risk of being kidnapped was gone.
“Hah... I’m exhausted...” Carol panted. “Is he...still following?”
“I’m sure he’s given up.”
We must’ve run for three kilometers. The sun was setting, so the crooks had very little chance of finding us now.
Up until now, I’d forgotten that I still held Carol’s dagger at my waist. I returned it to her. “Here.”
“Th-Thank you...”
I was just as happy as she was to have my dagger back. I could always make up for money I’d lost later, but the dagger that Soim had given me was irreplaceable.
“I’m starved. Wanna grab food before we head back?” I suggested.
We hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so we were both fairly hungry.
“E-Eat and then go back?”
It was possibly Her Royal Highness’s first time going out to get food.
“This is all I’ve got left,” I said, reaching into my pocket to produce a silver coin. “We can’t afford a fancy restaurant, but it’s enough to get something.”
“Are you serious? Even after all that just happened?”
“You’ve gotta be hungry too,” I said.
Carol patted her stomach as if consulting with it. “I am.”
“There’s a place over there. I’ve been there with my dad before.” I pointed to a restaurant where I’d once eaten with Rook.
Carol’s blonde hair caused quite a stir when we entered the restaurant, but we were shown to a table—a secluded spot in the back for two—without anyone complaining about our lack of adult supervision.
“Now, what to have...” I muttered to myself.
“I-I’ve decided already. Meat pie.” Carol sounded nervous. It must’ve been her first time after all.
I guess I’ll have the same.
“Excuse me.” I raised my hand and a server came to take my order. “One meat pie and, um...two cups of milk.”
“Yes, sir. One meat pie and two cups of milk.”
“Will this be enough?” I showed her the silver coin.
“Of course, sir,” the server immediately responded.
I already knew from checking the prices on the menu that there’d be change left over from a silver coin, but showing the staff that I had money would put them at ease. They were bound to get a lot of homeless children coming in and trying to eat without paying.
“Very well. Your food will be with you soon.” The server bowed to us and then went to give our order to the kitchen staff.
“You’re...awfully calm after all that...” Carol sounded impressed.
“Calm? I’m still a little jumpy to be honest.”
“Really?”
I was all too aware that I hadn’t settled down yet. I felt light, as though my feet weren’t quite touching the ground.
“I’ve never been through anything as intense as that. I feel good about myself now,” I said.
Carol, on the other hand, seemed down, as if she was still worried about what might happen to us next.
“I see... You sounded confident the whole time. I thought maybe that was an everyday thing for you.”
“As if.” I laughed. What war-torn country does she think I’m from?
“But still, you didn’t panic.”
“Because I knew that only one of those men had any experience,” I replied.
Despite being unskilled, they’d tried to bind me up rather than kill me. I knew that I’d find a chance to run away at some point.
“I see... I’m new to this. All I did was panic...”
She sounded remorseful, but if anything should’ve served as grounds for some soul-searching, it wasn’t her hysteria at being kidnapped—it was her stalking. But I kept that thought to myself.
“Don’t worry about it. We’re lucky no one’s going to be angry with us. Everything worked out great.”
“Uh... A-Are you saying we should keep quiet about this?”
Now Carol appeared to be scared. Everything that had happened had left her feeling guilty.
“You shook off your escorts, didn’t you? Let’s say... Oh, I know—let’s say you got lost while exploring the hidden areas of the academy. It’ll explain why your clothes got dirty too.”
“B-But lying is...”
“After dealing with everything by ourselves, we’d have to be stupid to let ourselves get punished for it now.”
“B-But I don’t think it’s right. My escorts must be searching high and low...”
“Ah... Hmm...”
The escorts assigned to the princess might’ve been some of this kingdom’s most elite soldiers. Fooling them would prove difficult, especially since Carol had been running around the city with her blonde hair exposed.
I didn’t feel like I’d done anything to make them angry at me, but I could still be blamed for going out without permission and then getting myself into trouble.
“Honestly, if we act like nothing happened, I doubt we’ll get in trouble. You didn’t cause problems for anyone.”
“Oh, I think I did.”
“If anyone can be annoyed about that, it’s me, right? You probably caused a lot of fuss, but what’s it matter if your escorts are panicking? If I can get over it, then so can they.”
“Are you sure? Oh, here it comes.”
The same server came back with a tray of food.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. Meat pie and milk for two.”
The server picked up the two cups of milk in one hand, placed them on the table, and then did the same for our food.
The large meat pie, which had been cut evenly into four pieces, sat imposingly on the plate. I’d worried that one might not have been enough, but this was going to be filling. It was also still sizzling hot, with clouds of steam rising from its surface. I was pleased to know it had been freshly baked.
“Thank you,” Carol said.
“Thanks.”
The server bowed and then left us.
“All right, let’s eat,” I said.
“Okay. It looks delicious.”
Carol took her knife, cut a small portion off the edge of the pie, stuck her fork into it, and lifted it to her mouth. As you’d expect from royalty, her movements were elegant and graceful.
“This is good. The flavor’s so rich.”
I tried some too and found that it really was tasty. I was glad we’d chosen it.
I was thirsty, so I lifted up the wooden cup, which was shaped like a small tankard, and tried the milk.
Carol was about to sample hers, but she seemed to be having trouble. She tried to drink from it while pinching its metal handle between her fingers, but it must’ve been too heavy for her, what with it brimming with milk and all.
The table manners she’d been taught probably hadn’t included any instructions for drinking from overly large cups. These were probably made to hold beer—they were too big to be suited for a child’s drink.
“Why not just grip the handle properly? I doubt your table manners were designed for tankards.”
“You’re right. I’ll try it.”
Carol fretfully gripped the cup with her hand and lifted it to her mouth. She took a few gulps before putting it back down on the table and dabbing her mouth with a napkin.
“There you go.”
Her manners were as refined as any royal family member.
Before I could compliment her on it, there was a bam as the door to the restaurant flew open. The sound of boots thumped in the restaurant.
“Princess Carol!” someone cried loudly.
I looked up and saw a pale-faced woman—fairly young, but obviously still older than we were—standing over us.
We’d entered the restaurant with Carol’s blonde hair on full display, but I hadn’t expected to be found so quickly. Then again, anyone escorting a princess had to be exceptional.
“Where in the world have you been?!” the woman demanded.
“Uh...”
She looks like a little girl about to cry because she’s been caught doing something naughty.
“I was t-taking a look around the city.”
“Have you no idea how dangerous that is?! Return with me immediately!”
“Please wait,” I said.
“Hm?” The woman looked at me.
“She may be royalty, but wouldn’t it be awfully disrespectful toward me if she were to get up and leave while we’re in the middle of our meal?”
The woman’s face turned into a scowl. “And who do you think you are?”
“It’s not a matter of my status. I’m simply expecting a member of the royal family to show a reasonable level of etiquette.”
“Well, you’ll have to excuse her.” The princess’s escort showed the bare minimum amount of courtesy toward me by bowing slightly.
“I think not,” I said, preventing her from taking Carol away. “Unless there’s an urgent matter or a war has broken out right here, leaving a meal halfway through isn’t something I can excuse.”
“Oh?” She clearly hadn’t been expecting that reply. She stood there dumbfounded.
“This area is quite safe, and there’s no emergency to the best of my knowledge. If there’s no good reason for leaving so soon, then shouldn’t the lady be allowed to finish the meal first?”
“The lady happens to be a princess of the Shiyalta Kingdom.”
“Is she? I’m Yuri Ho, by the way—heir to the headship of the Ho family.”
I took out my dagger from my pocket and laid it on the table so that the Ho family crest was visible.
Carol’s escort never could’ve expected this urchin with dirty commoner’s clothes and a bruise on his cheek to be the heir of a chieftain family. She looked quite surprised.
“I say it once more: I consider leaving the dinner table in the absence of an emergency to be rude behavior. I ask that you wait for us to finish eating.”
The escort just looked at me. She was hard-pressed to respond.
Admittedly, I was talking nonsense and being needlessly argumentative, but I knew that the escort couldn’t disagree if I called something ill-mannered and then backed up the claim with reasoning. Rudeness was subjective; if I acted offended there was little point in explaining why I shouldn’t be.
“Very well... I’ll wait.”
She’d given in. She knew better than to ignore objections from the heir to a chieftain family. On top of that, I was one of Carol’s new friends.
“Actually, I’d prefer it if you could wait outside. It’s hard to enjoy our meal when there’s someone souring the atmosphere.”
For a moment, the escort appeared shocked. But then she simply made a brief check of the restaurant to ensure no one looked suspicious and left without a word.
Everything was peaceful once more.
“See? Tell her you did nothing wrong and she can’t be angry with you,” I told Carol.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“We’ve already had our day off ruined by a bad experience. We should at least enjoy a good meal before we head back.”
“Well...maybe you’re right,” Carol mused while taking another piece of pie.
Royal cuisine must’ve used more subtle flavors, because it looked like she really enjoyed the pie. This sort of simple-yet-tasty dish was ideal for a child’s palate.
Once we’d finished, I thanked the server. “Thank you for the meal. Please keep the change as compensation for the trouble.”
All I had was one silver coin, so that was what I placed down on the table before getting up.
The escort outside had been glaring at anyone who’d tried to get near, so we’d had almost the whole restaurant to ourselves for a while.
“Sorry for the trouble. We really enjoyed the food.” Carol gave the staff a slight bow before leaving.
“You’re finished now?” Carol’s escort asked me as we emerged.
She’d been standing outside as if she was the restaurant’s gatekeeper. There was also a carriage waiting with the royal family crest emblazoned on it.
“Yes, we are. It was a very enjoyable meal. Now, if you’ll escort me home,” Carol replied.
“Yes, Your Highness. Your carriage awaits.”
As she boarded the carriage, Carol turned back to look at me.
“Yuri Ho. Thanks for today. I had fun,” she said to me with a grin.
It was the first time I’d seen Carol smile.

Conqueror 1.6

Some of my fellow knights-to-be aimed to ride kingeagles and become sky knights. Of course, a knighthood alone didn’t make someone a sky knight—a very different curriculum was required. In fact, there were a lot of special skills that were demanded of a sky knight. Fortunately, training in all of those skills would count toward their graduation credits.
But students hoping to become sky knights had a high chance of being rejected. The housemistress explained that those with no prior experience riding kingeagles would need intense training, and they’d be forced to quit the course unless they showed real potential. Presumably, anyone who was too scared to look down while in the air would be kicked off the course instantly.
The remaining credits—the last hundred and fifty—were entirely lectures on general topics which were also common to the Cultural Academy. One hundred and twenty of those credits came from compulsory classes, while we were free to choose how to obtain the remaining thirty.
The former seemed to cover basic education, such as the Shanish language, math, social studies, and history. Even a knight would shame themselves if they didn’t understand a bare minimum amount of culture. There were many choices for our options. Some subjects sounded similar to chemistry, but I imagined they’d simply teach us nonsense.
There was an elementary course on Ancient Shanish too, but I’d had enough experience with that language for one lifetime. Actually, make that several lifetimes. I planned to avoid it even if I lived through seven different lives. In fact, I’d hated reading ancient writings in my past life too.
One of the courses in particular caught my interest: The Kulatish Language. I was surprised that they even had a way of teaching it to us. It was knowledge that could become invaluable at some point in life. Learning the Kulati’s language—the other race of people who inhabited this world alongside the Shanti—could be a major advantage. If this kingdom were to collapse, I could live in hiding in a region ruled over by Kulati, or escape persecution by relocating to a land where my people were safe. In either case, knowing their language would be crucial.
As much as the Kulati were said to hate the Shanti, Eurasia was a big place, and hatred for Shanti didn’t necessarily exist in every region. There could be safe places out there, like remote islands that remained undiscovered.
“Does everyone understand?” the housemistress asked.
It wasn’t clear exactly how much she’d expected us to understand, but my guess was that half the people here were clueless.
“If it’s too hard for any of you, come and see me later. We’ll make a lesson plan together.”
I bet she’ll be making those lesson plans all day.
“Now I’ll inform you of today’s arrangements. You’ll be tested to see whether you can be exempted from some of your compulsory classes. I’m sure some of you have already studied enough Shanish and math to skip the basics, so those students will be awarded the necessary credits.”
Really? I don’t just get to skip those classes, I get the credits for free? Such compassion. Is there a god or a Buddha helping to manage the academy?
“However, applying for exemptions is optional. Make the application yourself, and the course teacher will test you. Those who didn’t score well enough on the exam the other day won’t be allowed to apply. Those who choose not to apply for exemptions, and those who aren’t eligible for any exemptions, please focus on selecting your courses instead.”
I see. They’re making use of our exam results again.
It made sense to set an eligibility threshold as it saved a lot of teachers’ time. Otherwise, they would’ve had to talk to every student.
Excelling at that entrance exam had caused a ton of problems for me so far, but now I was glad I’d done it. My three years of hard work hadn’t been for nothing. Well, except for the ancient Shanish lessons—those were still worthless.
The talk of exemptions and getting free credits was music to my ears. Probably because of past trauma I harbored from my days as a credit-chasing college student.
✧✧✧
“Wow...” the old math teacher said. “It’s hard to believe, but your math knowledge might actually surpass mine.”
“Really?”
Hooray! I had to stop myself from cheering. If he let me skip math and abacus classes, I’d earn a whole thirty credits for free.
“I think you could benefit from some of the specialized courses at the Cultural Academy, but you’ve nothing left to learn from the Knight Academy’s compulsory math courses.”
“Thank you.”
All right. Sounds like I can skip them.
“But your skills with the abacus could use some polish.”
“Oh?”
I’m not good enough with an abacus?
“I’ll be generous and let you skip the intermediate abacus class, but I want you to take the advanced one.”
Despite being called abacus class, it wasn’t just about moving beads around; it also included some of the clerical calculations needed for things like account books. I’d already learned just about everything I needed to know in this area, but apparently not thoroughly enough. It sounded like I’d only narrowly avoided taking the intermediate classes.
By the way, their abacuses weren’t the type used in Japan. They had a similar design, but rather than each row having five disc-like beads with a reckoning bar separating them, each row included nine round beads.
Still, I could consider myself lucky to have skipped half the course. And I’d been made exempt from all five modules of the math course, which was great. All in all, I was able to skip twenty-seven credits’ worth of courses in this subject.
When it came to the other mandatory courses, I was exempt from the entirety of Shanish and all but the final modules of history and social sciences. In total, I was allowed to skip one hundred and four credits out of the one hundred and twenty that made up compulsory education. And for the special Knight Academy courses, I was also exempt from sixteen out of fifty credits.
It all came to a total of one hundred twenty credits skipped. So overall, out of three hundred credits, I’d been given forty percent of them for free. Wonderful.
After being interviewed until late at night, I returned to the dorm. The housemistress was there, looking rather frazzled after dealing with kids all day.
I felt hungry, so I headed to the dinner hall and found Myalo eating some late dinner. All of the exceptional students had undergone a lot of interviews, so he’d probably been busy until recently like I had. I took a well-stocked tray and went over to him.
“Mind if I sit here?” I asked.
“Please go ahead,” he replied.
We talked as we ate.
“This system’s great. I bet you got out of a lot of classes too.”
“Yes, I was exempt from ninety-three credits,” he replied.
Ninety-three credits. Amazing.
The curriculum had been designed to help kids who couldn’t write or do basic math catch up with everyone else. We were about the age of a fifth grader, so children who’d studied—either under a governess at home or at a cram school—were bound to be able to skip the first five grades’ worth of courses. I’d expected the smart students with a good education to skip between thirty and forty credits, but ninety-three credits was incredible.
“I knew you were a smart one, Myalo.”
I shouldn’t be so surprised.
“I’m nothing special. How did you do, Yuri?”
“One hundred twenty credits.”
Myalo’s spoon fell from his hand and landed on his wooden tray with a clatter.
Is one hundred and twenty really that much? Well, it’s not like I can lie.
“I should probably mention that I’ve been studying a lot,” I explained. I’d learned from Carol that being overly humble was not a good idea.
I’ll just tell him that it’s because I work hard. It’s true that the only reason I can skip so many credits is because of everything Satsuki put me through.
“I-I see. Well, it’s still impressive. You must have set a new record.”
“I’m not sure about that.”
I’d rather not go around breaking records. I’d feel bad about it since I’m cheating.
“I don’t care about records, but I’ll be glad if I can graduate easily,” I said. “Hopefully I’ll be finished here before too long.”
“Yes. Though I’ve heard that it’s not possible to graduate from the Knight Academy too early.”
Huh?
“What do you mean?”
“Because we have practical classes.”
Ah, those.
Some of the courses needed to be taken in sequence without skipping anything, kind of like how someone couldn’t learn multiplication without learning addition first. It was going to take me years to clear every practical course from beginner to advanced.
“Oh, you’re right. I wonder how many years it’ll take to get through practical classes if everything goes smoothly.”
“Seven years, in theory,” Myalo replied without pausing to think.
He really does know everything.
“Then I’ll graduate at seventeen if all goes well.”
Rook had told me that people normally graduated around twenty-two or twenty-three, so seventeen felt a little optimistic. For example, suppose there was an advanced jujitsu class that required skill on the level of a third-year high schooler. If someone younger were to be permitted to take the course, they’d have a hard time keeping up. They might try to make up for their lack of experience using talent and hard work, but they’d always be smaller than the other students on the course.
Problems of that sort could increase the minimum of seven years to something more like fifteen years.
“I’ve heard that no matter how talented or strong someone is, they won’t be allowed to pass the final practical classes until they reach twenty.”
Oh. That’s way later than I expected.
“Why? Don’t they want us to graduate quickly?” I asked.
“In some cases, graduates are sent off to war as soon as they have their knighthood. So the academy won’t award one to someone who isn’t fully grown, no matter how talented they are.”
“Ah, so it’s like that.”
It would be awful if someone with enough talent to graduate at the age of seventeen could be sent off to die on the battlefield before they’d even grown up. The academy’s compromise was to set a minimum graduation age of twenty. It was bad news for me, because it meant I’d be stuck here longer, but I could see why it was a good policy from a political standpoint.
“Sounds like there’s no point in hurrying,” I said.
“Yes, I think you’re right,” Myalo agreed.
Even graduating at twenty was going to demand a lot of hard work. That said, the number of free credits I’d earned would make everything a lot easier for me.
“Is it the same at the Cultural Academy?”
“Cultural Academy students can graduate at any age. In fact, graduating early is a mark of distinction, so many people hurry to do so. Exemption from courses is much more important there than here.”
That’s interesting.
“You sure know a lot, Myalo.”
“I really don’t. All I know is this sort of boring trivia.”
I wouldn’t call it boring trivia...
“Where did you learn it all?”
“Where...? Well, you could say that remembering all these trivial things is what people from witch families do for a living.”
Really? Well, I suppose that’s what bureaucracy is all about.
“I’ll bet witch families like yours have a ton of history behind them.”
“That’s true. My family is one of the seven witches, after all. I can trace our history back to the days of the empire.”
All the way back to the empire? That’s impressive.
It was possible to trace the Ho family’s roots that far back too, but we were just an average family of farmers in the southern region of Scandinavia in those days.
Back then, my ancestors—whose names had been lost to time—had prospered enough on their farm to become influential within their village. My ancestors grew wealthy, and when war caused the collapse of the empire, the family head’s ambition drove him to use that confusion to his advantage. He fought until our family was the most powerful one in all of the southern territory. Then, when the Shiyalta Kingdom was established, my family scrambled to win the favor of Shiyalta Flue Shaltl—or perhaps she came to them—and they were made the chieftain family of the south.
We were basically just upstart farmers, but that had all happened almost nine hundred years ago. Over the course of a few centuries, any family could go from being upstarts to prestigious. Our family tree only started being recorded around the point that the family gained authority over the region, so we didn’t quite have the honor of being able to trace our history back to the days of the empire.
“The seven witches? I can’t even imagine what they do.”
I’ll bet it’s some important work in the royal castle.
“I assure you it’s nothing pleasant,” Myalo told me.
“I don’t believe that. I know that they handle all the bureaucratic work.”
Unlike fighting or carpentry, bureaucracy was difficult to appreciate because it wasn’t the sort of work you could see in action. Nonetheless, it was indispensable to any developed nation. A small village could be ruled by a single person because one elder could single-handedly keep track of all the goings-on, but a single monarch couldn’t hope to watch every corner of a kingdom made up of millions of people. There would always be a need for others who became the eyes and ears—not to mention the arms and legs—of the nation’s ruler.
“That’s certainly the right answer if the question comes up in an exam, but in reality, they corrupt offices and line their own pockets.”
“They do? I don’t get what you mean.”
Though I’m not surprised corruption exists. Maybe it’s even a given for a country in this era.
“Let me give an example: if they’re in charge of a harbor, they’ll employ a longshoreman to steal cargo from the ships. When it’s the managers orchestrating the theft, there’s no way to prevent it. That means anyone who doesn’t want their cargo stolen has to pay a bribe. It’s the easiest job in the world, the family can simply sit back and let the money flow in.”
“That makes sense...”
A longshoreman was a worker who loaded and unloaded cargo from merchant ships. There were no standardized shipping containers or cranes, so all cargo had to be moved by hand. The royal capital heavily relied upon ships for the transport of goods, which made a longshoreman’s job one of the most crucial types of manual labor in the royal capital. The idea of making it routine to corrupt that sort of worker sounded dangerous to someone like me.
A little deception and bribery didn’t mean the entire country was doomed—such things could never be completely stamped out among bureaucrats, after all—but at the very least, there needed to be periodic purges. Cleaning up corruption would bring down families who relied on it. Given that these seven witches boasted proud histories that stretched back to the days of the empire, it must’ve meant they’d never experienced that kind of cleansing. Various offices must’ve been allowed to rot under their amoral influence the entire time.
“That’s not exactly what my family does. They work in real estate. Not that that’s any better—they’re a blight that does no good to anyone,” Myalo continued.
Boys were treated coldly by witches, which may have explained why Myalo was so willing to insult his own family.
For a smart person, it didn’t always matter what their family’s line of business was or where they’d been born. They’d often find a way in life without needing the approval of their family members. Even if Myalo cut ties with them and was thrown out of the Knight Academy, someone with his intelligence was sure to find a way to get by.
In the case of a certain meathead, if he ever became a wretched vagrant orphan forced to rob stores as a means of finding food, he’d probably just freeze to death by the roadside come winter. The two were nothing alike. Myalo would likely rise to greatness once he found a merchant willing to accept him as an apprentice.
“So that’s the true nature of witch families?”
I’ll have to reassess my opinion of them. I took them for prestigious families of bureaucrats in respectable positions, like cabinet ministers. I guess you can’t always get a good understanding of things just by reading a few books.
“That’s right,” Myalo said. “The Ho family is far grander.”
“You think so?”
I wonder. I guess we’re amazing in our own way. Even Rook, for all his flaws, takes his job seriously.
“Yes. The histories of chieftain families are filled with honor and glory. Witch families act as though they’re special, but they do nothing of benefit to anyone.”
Maybe Myalo’s a fan of my family?
“Well, I appreciate the compliments.”
“You’re next in line to be head of your chieftain family, aren’t you? You have such a wonderful future ahead of you.” Myalo’s eyes almost sparkled. He must’ve really looked up to knight families.
“That’s assuming my cousin doesn’t find herself a good husband.”
That possibility still hadn’t gone away. While Sham was at school, she could fall for a talented and capable prince on a white horse, like a fated encounter from a book.
“Oh, I doubt that will matter. Given how gifted you are, I’m sure there’ll be no need to consider other candidates.” Myalo was showing a surprising amount of knowledge about my family.

Conqueror 1.5

II
“This is Kalakumo, where we are, isn’t it?” the boy asked.
“That’s right,” Satsuki replied as she watched him closely.
He was studying the map with great interest, as if it were the first time he’d seen one, even though such things were familiar to every noble in the kingdom.
“And my husband was fighting here,” she said, pointing to a spot on the map.
The boy grew thoughtful once more, though she couldn’t guess at what he was thinking.
Satsuki recalled yesterday’s events.
✧✧✧
“...Which means, you don’t have to do anything yourself. Just make this false claim tomorrow,” the boy explained.
He had asked to speak to her without his father present and suggested a plan that was similar to a conspiracy. Satsuki truly struggled to understand all the details.
“Oh my... That’s certainly an interesting idea, but I’m not so sure Rakunu would fall for it.”
“Rakunu’s overconfident—he’s always full of himself. He’s the type that rushes into action without a second thought. It goes without saying that he looks down on my dad for abandoning his knighthood, and he probably thinks that I’m just a farmhand too. I’ll just tell Rakunu a lie that he wanted to believe from the start. He’ll think he was right all along so he won’t question it further.”
“I wonder...”
“But of course, he has to think that my dad isn’t on your side during the rest of the council. If we do act like we side with you, he’ll be suspicious when the enemy suddenly comes to his aid.”
Satsuki had been planning to get Rook on her side and then take the initiative in her debate with Rakunu. It was for this reason that Rook’s weak approach had been annoying her. In fact, she’d just been about to give him a piece of her mind. But if she were to follow the boy’s advice, Rook couldn’t confront Rakunu or even be unfriendly toward him.
“Maybe I’m misunderstanding your idea, but won’t it be dangerous for you to go to Rakunu alone? I don’t mean to scare you, but he could do something terrible.”
“Do you think we can win the vote if I don’t do anything?”
“Yes. I can’t say we’re guaranteed to win, but we have the most people on our side.”
“And if we win, what would it mean?”
“Oh...? I don’t understand the question,” Satsuki replied. What’s he saying? If we win, it’ll all be over.
“If Rook wins and becomes head of family, that doesn’t necessarily mean he can do whatever he likes. Would he be able to arrest Rakunu, charge him with treason, and then have him executed tomorrow?”
She hadn’t expected the boy to speak of such unpleasant matters.
“I...don’t know,” she responded.
“I don’t care if it means exiling the whole Ek family. Will dad be able to do it immediately, the moment he becomes head?”
Clouds of doubt started to gather in Satsuki’s heart. Rakunu Ek’s family had ruled over a port town to the south for generations. It had been theirs since days of old, and it couldn’t be easily confiscated without clear evidence of a crime.
It would be possible if the veracity of the wills was clearly demonstrated, of course. But her lack of ability to do just that was what had led to them arguing during the council. Even though Satsuki knew his will was fake, she had no way to make that obvious to everyone else.
It meant that even if Rook was chosen as the head, the charges made against Rakunu would be muddied by unanswered questions.
“If Rakunu returns home only for us to make charges against him later, he might ignore our summons and refuse to vacate his territory. We’d have no choice but to arrest him by force. In that case, I’m worried we might be caught in a civil war,” he continued.
“You’re right...”
Satsuki was forced to agree—what he said was true. If Rakunu refused to comply, an army would have to be raised to force him. Unfortunately, Rook’s lack of a knighthood could be a major problem when it came to raising an army.
There was no way that Queen Shimoné could settle the matter with a royal edict—this was a family affair. Turning to the queen for help would make the Ho family a laughingstock throughout the kingdom, and their rule would suffer for it.
“If it comes to that, would the other lords assist us? If our army had overwhelming superiority, we could crush him in a single blow just like suppressing any other minor rebellion. But what if it risked becoming a drawn-out war? Could we avoid that by reaching a compromise that allowed the Ek family to continue existing?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t say it’s impossible, but...isn’t it too soon to worry about that?”
The boy spoke of problems that hadn’t yet occurred. He seemed incredibly reluctant to leave future possibilities to chance.

It was true that the council was divided and the vote was going to be split. It was also true that having Rakunu executed after that could prove difficult, but there was also the possibility that Rakunu would submit quietly.
Satsuki preferred to deal with one problem at a time. Her hands were already full with the important issue before her today.
The boy seemed to have read Satsuki’s train of thought, because he said, “Unfortunately, we’re dealing with a proud and despicable man. I don’t think he’ll ever come quietly, he seems like the type who’ll stop at nothing. I’m sure he’ll continue to make attacks against you and my dad. And if the Ho family is forced into a war, it’ll be impossible to secure a favorable outcome to insiders and outsiders alike. Are you confident that the local lords would continue to support us in the future if things were to reach that point? It doesn’t matter how well you manage the province—you’re not likely to win anyone over with something like an increase in crop yields.”
Satsuki was getting a headache. In fact, she’d faced nothing but headache-inducing problems ever since Rakunu’s return. She’d assumed that all she needed was to win the vote, but her optimism was fading fast. Now this boy was telling her that her struggles would continue for a long time, whether they won the vote or not.
“We don’t know what might happen until we try...” she muttered, becoming a little irritated. In her mind, however, she could clearly picture the future that the boy described—it would be a narrow victory. Rakunu would oppose it loudly. Gradually, the lords would turn against her. It was all too realistic.
“Yes, that’s true. My dad’s so incredible that he might have a surprising amount of support among the lords. But I don’t think the chances of that are particularly high.”
“Your plan could have the opposite effect. It could make us lose. I can’t simply agree to this.”
If Rook remained quiet during the latter half of today’s council rather than opposing Rakunu, it could sway the vote the other way. The lords would begin to think, Does Rook even want to be head of family? We shouldn’t force him into it if he’s unwilling.
The false claim she’d have to make the next day also gave her doubts. It would certainly be worth it if Rakunu fell into the trap, but if he saw through it, Satsuki would be the one humiliated. Needless to say, that would also impact the result of the vote. It was a dangerous gamble.
“If we win this way, everything will be settled the moment we win the vote. We have a chance to solve all of our problems at once,” the boy said.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t agree with this,” Satsuki replied.
“Huh...? You don’t have faith in me, Satsuki?”
The boy appeared incredulous, but it had to be an act. It sounded like a genuine question, but he should have known all too well that she had no faith in him.
“No. You’re...awfully young.”
“Ha ha.” The boy laughed drily as if he found something amusing.
The boy’s provoking attitude had begun to grate on Satsuki. She’d been racking her brain for a way to prove that her husband’s will was genuine. She couldn’t go along with this young boy’s rash actions.
“Do you find something funny?” she asked.
“Yes, the whole thing is funny. Don’t you think so too?”
She had no idea what he meant. It should have gone without saying that it was impossible for her to trust a child—one who wasn’t even a quarter of her age—who had no skills.
“Gok decided to take a chance and entrusted the Ho family to me. If you think it was the wrong choice, then why are you even trying to execute his will?”
✧✧✧
And now Satsuki stood here. Everything had worked out the way he’d said. Rakunu was imprisoned in the manor’s dungeon, and her worries for the future had receded like clouds in the wind. In effect, the boy had resolved everything himself.
“Thank you, Satsuki. You’ve been a great help today. Good night.”
The boy bowed to her politely, then closed the bedroom door. It was as though he’d been a completely different person the previous night.
My husband saw something in that boy...
Satsuki had no idea what that something was. All she knew was that her husband hadn’t been mistaken.
“Mom.”
She felt her beautiful daughter pull on her hand.
“Yes, let’s go,” Satsuki said as they began walking through the corridor.
Chapter 3 — Everyday Happenings
I
Three years had already passed since Rook was appointed as head of family, but I was still being worked to the bone.
“You’ll be a laughingstock if you enter the academy in this state,” an old, gray-haired man told me as I lay exhausted on the wooden floor of the dojo.
I’d spent a lot of time with him these past three years. His name was Soim Hao, and he was a knight who’d come out of retirement recently. In his younger days, he’d been an important member of expeditions.
Soim had raised and trained his only son as his successor, but he had died on the battlefield long ago, leaving a son behind. By then, Soim’s grandson was old enough to take charge of the family, but he too had recently passed away along with Gok.
Soim was one of several people who Satsuki had asked to assist with my education following the incident. He was apparently trusting someone else to manage his domain, and since his great-grandchild was five years younger than me, he would otherwise be spending his days idle. Now he filled his time by beating me with sticks and immobilizing me with various holds.
The arrangement worked out well for everyone but me.
Soim was more than ninety years old. Despite his age, the muscles concealed beneath his wrinkled skin had become more refined over the years, even as time weakened them. Those muscles, combined with his well-honed techniques, made him an exceptionally strong opponent.
I reached for my wooden spear once more as I began to get up. It was merely a plain, wooden rod, its tip painted a bright red to represent the blade. It was designed for use in children’s training.
Soim held another wooden rod, but his was wrapped in straw and covered with an animal hide. He was careful not to injure me with his blows, but even a completely hollow bamboo sword could hurt someone. Despite all the padding, being hit with it still hurt.
I was on my feet again. Soim held his staff with both hands.
“Come at me when you’re ready,” he commanded.
I charged at him, thrusting and swiping, then withdrawing. I didn’t hold back as I launched a series of attacks against him, but he dodged or parried every single one.
When I was close to getting out of breath, he used a little extra force to parry one of my blows and instantly followed it up with a foot sweep. My legs buckled under me and I tumbled clumsily to the ground. I struck the ground with my arm—a technique I used to break my fall—so I was uninjured.
Damn.
Obviously, a child’s body was no physical match against an adult’s, but I still felt that his technique far surpassed mine. Even after training hard for three years, I still felt out of his league.
“That wasn’t bad, but you must learn when to retreat. This is what happens when you lose stamina but won’t draw back,” Soim lectured me.
“You would’ve gotten me regardless.”
“Heh... Be that as it may, you’ll always lose, young master, because there’s such a great difference in capability between us. But you need to think—if this were a battlefield, drawing back and holding out a little longer could have given a fellow soldier the opportunity to come to your aid and attack me. But if you were to fall to the ground because of a reckless attack, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”
For some reason, this old man liked to call me young master. I found it really embarrassing. In any case, what he was saying was true, so I couldn’t argue.
“You’re right.”
I steeled myself and then got to my feet again. I’d already caught my breath.
“Come at me when you’re ready.”
Shanti knights had a strange fixation with spears. They mostly trained with spears that were as long as their bodies, but that wasn’t all they learned. Spears could be unwieldy, and no sensible person would carry one throughout the day or during their indoor work, so they normally also carried daggers. In the same way that warriors of Japan’s Edo period would generally carry a weapon of some sort, the knights here would always carry a dagger with them when heading out.
The knights also made use of many types of spear-like weapons. For example, people who felt better suited to swinging rather than thrusting could use something resembling a polearm with a curved blade.
The fundamentals of Shanti close-quarters combat consisted of three different disciplines: spear arts (including short spear techniques), sword arts (including dagger techniques), and hand-to-hand martial arts. There were also bow arts and riding arts for those who rode birds.
“Hah! Hah!” I deliberately cried out as I dodged each of the attacks Soim aimed at me with his spear.
I held a wooden dagger in my hand now, and I’d step back at the last moment when he thrust at my legs, or twist my body when he thrust at my face. Somehow, I was able to dodge each attack.
I remained just within reach of his spear, making it possible to evade by stepping back, so dodging each attack as it came was actually quite easy.
He also seemed to slow his approach to match my speed, ensuring he never drew closer.
I held up my dagger with the hilt gripped in one hand. When the spear thrust toward me—just barely missing my chest—I grabbed the shaft with my empty hand.
Spear-bearers hated it when the opponent caught their shaft. Even if the wielder attempted to shake them off, the human arm could put more force into pulling than pushing, so it wasn’t easy to break free. That meant their opponent could get close and stab the spear-bearer while they struggled, which was a common way for them to die despite their apparent advantage.
I was so weak that I wouldn’t be able to maintain my grip for long. By pulling on the spear and using it to propel myself forward, I used his attack as a chance to get closer. Without losing momentum, I swung with my dagger, aiming for the spear’s grip.
Soim had already removed his hand from the spear’s grip, leaving me without a target. He then used his free fist to aim at my hand.
When Soim first struck the back of my hand, it sent a jolt up my entire arm. He’d hit me hard, and I froze up as a result. He took the opportunity to deliver a soft kick to my stomach, sending me falling onto my back. Just as I broke my fall, he thrust the spear toward me, pressing its tip against my stomach. I had clearly been defeated.
After sparring, we ran a lap around the manor together as a cooldown exercise. The day’s training ended with me drenched in sweat.
“I’ll see you for more training tomorrow. Rest well until then.”
“Thank you.”
I was scheduled to receive a lesson from Satsuki after lunch.
✧✧✧
“Listen to me,” my teacher scolded and smacked me on the head.
“Whoa!”
I awoke with a start. Oh, man, I was half-asleep.
“You fell asleep, didn’t you?”
“Uh... Yes.”
“Is this really that boring?”
My teacher, Satsuki, looked unhappy with me.
Of course it’s boring. I can’t believe they expect me to take this lesson after intense exercise and a meal. How could I not fall asleep? It’s heartless to even ask it of me.
“No, I’ll do my best.”
“Now memorize ‘lantern kakikaki winter snow.’”
What...?
“Huh?”
“I just explained this. It’s how we conjugate the verb when the subject is a grandmother.”
In this case, “grandmother” was a linguistic term that referred to aged women.
“You remember how it changes depending on whether the object is a grandfather, man, item, land, royalty, grandmother, or woman, don’t you?”
“Uh... What...?”
As I was barraged by this heap of information, I felt my consciousness starting to slip away again.
Satsuki was determined to teach me Ancient Shanish, and it went like this every single time.
“So we follow the verb with ‘lantern kakikaki winter snow.’ For both young women and old women, ‘snow’ stays the same in both cases, so that’s one less thing for you to remember.”
Uhhh... One less thing out of seven doesn’t make it a whole lot easier, does it?
I was still struggling with the whole idea of verbs that changed depending on the object.
Of course, verbs changed forms in Japanese and English too. Verbs were generally conjugated depending on subject and tense, but I’d never known a verb to change depending on whether the object was an old man or woman.
Such a language would need an absurdly high number of verb inflections—it should’ve been too ridiculous to exist. But, believe it or not, this was just such a language. Oh, and verbs didn’t just change depending on the subject and object—they changed with the level of politeness too, which created yet another complication.
Maybe a strange world where verbs had the power to drive everyone crazy actually made for a peaceful civilization—a place where everyone stuck to adjectives for expressing their day-to-day thoughts. But as far as I was concerned, this was a world of psychological horror, unbound by the rules of rationality.
There was no way my brain, limited by my puny common sense, could have conceived of such a language.
Needless to say, there’d never been a time or place where people had actually spoken this language. Even in the empire’s heyday, it was only ever used in writing. No doubt the intelligentsia of the time had had way too much time on their hands and used it to twist the language into the ridiculous mess that it was.
“Um, why am I learning this?” I wondered, repeating the same question I’d asked countless times already.
“You’ll need to know it so you can read old texts.” Satsuki gave the same reply as always.
“Um... Will that help me to use magic or something?”
“What? Where did you get that nonsense from?”
“Just thought I’d ask...”
I sighed to myself. I’d be willing to put some real effort into this if it let me use magic.
“I don’t understand why you hate classic texts so much, Yuri. It’s just rote memorization, no different from history...” Satsuki said with a frown.
It’s nothing like history.
I couldn’t see any reason to learn it at all. If Rook had been an archeologist who’d hoped for me to follow in his footsteps, then I’d understand the need to read Ancient Shanish. An archeologist would obviously need to read ancient texts. But I had no such interest in old texts, and therefore no need. There wasn’t a single person still living who used this bizarre language in speech or writing.
“Look, you’ll never be able to call yourself cultured until you learn how to read Ancient Shanish. Now why not write this down and memorize it?”
For the first time in a long while, I remembered exactly how it felt to be a little kid who would rather do anything besides study.
✧✧✧
The trials of the body and the mind were over, and I was heading to Sham’s room with lifeless, glazed eyes. My lessons weren’t exactly torture, but they left me mentally exhausted and unsteady on my feet. I needed to see Sham to soothe my soul.
No one responded when I knocked, so I unlatched the door and opened it.
“Hey.”
Sham was motionless at her desk and holding a pen.
“Sham?”
“Oh! Yuri?”
The second time I called her, she noticed me and jumped in shock. She must have been concentrating so hard that she hadn’t heard me open the door.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“I can come back later if you’re busy.”
I didn’t want anything in particular, so I wasn’t about to get in the way of her studies just to make myself feel better.
“Kepler’s laws really are amazing.”
“Oh, you’re thinking about complicated stuff again.”
“This heliocentric model explains everything. It predicts Mercury’s position perfectly, and it even clears up all the mysteries behind Mars’s movements. I’m still struggling to believe it, though.”
She still doesn’t fully accept it? I’ve never seriously studied astronomy myself, so I don’t know what kind of movements she’s talking about, but it sounds like she’s just solved a big problem. That’s good.
“Well, I’m glad.”
“The existing model says that Mars and the other planets orbit around the Sun,” Sham added.
Huh? What?
“Isn’t that heliocentrism already?” I asked.
Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, and the other planets orbited the Sun. I already knew that—that wasn’t mysterious at all.
“No, because the model places Earth at the center with the Sun in orbit around it. To put it another way, the Sun is like a second moon that’s further from Earth than the actual Moon. The other planets orbit the Sun like they’re its moons. That’s how the model arranges things.”
What? This world is weird. Since I knew how massive the sun was, it was hard to even imagine.
“With enough coefficients, the old model predicts the motions of the heavens rather well,” she continued.
That can’t be right.
“It does?”
I took a seat; it felt like her explanation could go on for a long time.
“Well, if you watch Mars’s movement throughout the year, this is the pattern it follows, doesn’t it?”
Sham sketched something on a piece of wood before showing it to me. She’d drawn a backwards letter Z and a shape resembling a ribbon with a loop in it. Mars moved in the strangest way.
I’ll just pretend I already knew that.
“Of course,” I replied.
“If Mars had a circular orbit about the Earth, you wouldn’t see a pattern like this.”
I could understand that much, at least. Leaving aside how small Mars appeared in the sky, it would move straight across the night sky just like the Moon if it orbited around the Earth. That was common sense.
“But you can explain everything when you think about how Mars would orbit the Sun,” she continued.
“Ah, I see.”
Kind of like the teacups at a fairground. Someone sitting at the center of a merry-go-round would never see the people that were riding on the horses move against the direction of rotation. But if the riders were in spinning teacups, an observer might see them move in the opposite direction for just a moment. Their geocentrism is surprisingly well thought out.
“I suppose it’s like they say: if the only tool you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail,” I said.
“What do you mean? Is that a proverb or something?”
“That’s right.”
“I’ve never heard it before. But yes, you’re right—faulty reasoning can just be covered up with more reasoning, and then you can force your model to work on anything by inserting more coefficients.”
The model must’ve needed lots of different numerical constants that contradicted each other if it worked well enough for Sham to accept it. And obviously the model only worked on paper because it ignored the magnitude of the sun’s gravity. I’d be surprised if the contradictions weren’t apparent at a glance. It must’ve been a really complicated calculation.
“This new model explains everything neatly with no need for contrived reasoning. It’s wonderful, if I do say so myself—beautiful, in fact. Everything is in harmony.”
“That’s great.”
Well, at least she’s happy. I wonder if I used to make that same face back when I worked in the lab... No, of course I didn’t. I never had her passion. My research topics weren’t chosen based on my own personal interests—they had to take the world’s needs into consideration.
“Oh. I’m not sure what I meant by ‘if I do say so myself.’ It was you who thought of it, Yuri.” Sham sounded apologetic.
“No, it doesn’t matter who thought of it...”
I just happened to know it. I didn’t think of it myself, so I don’t care who takes credit. I might think differently if I could make money from it, but I don’t want fame and respect earned from a theory that Kepler came up with long ago in another world. I’d feel guilty for stealing someone else’s work if I took the credit.
“I think it does matter, but anyway... I’ve gone over it quite thoroughly now.”
Thoroughly?
“No one’s forcing you, you know,” I added.
You’re free to do other things. Like...playing house. I know I can’t tell her to go watch PreCure, but her generation has to have something to do for fun.
“I can’t help it. I enjoy it too much.”
It didn’t sound like she was forcing herself.
That’s impressive. She’s got some serious brains.
When I was her age—back when there were still only 151 Pokémon—I’d lost my mind when a friend had given me a Mew that someone created with a duplication glitch. Meanwhile, my cousin here understood the binomial theorem and trigonometric functions. Plus, she’d even verified a model of the solar system based on Kepler’s laws. That’s what gave her joy.
“Why don’t we go outside? We might find something fun,” I suggested.
It’s good to step outdoors once in a while.
“Um...” She was obviously opposed to that idea.
“Why not? It’ll clear your head.”
“My head’s quite clear already. You’re awfully unsophisticated at times, Yuri...”
Unsophisticated? I guess Sham is sick of people telling her what I just did. Maybe there’s nothing relaxing about going outside when you’re a shut-in at heart.
“But if you think it’s a good idea, Yuri...”
It was already dusk when we left the manor.
Ginkgo trees were planted in the manor’s garden and the leaves had already begun to discolor and fall due to the season. There was a faint smell of ginkgo nuts, but not enough to be unpleasant. The trees didn’t line the paths, which meant that no one stepped on the nuts, and the servants would collect them before they could begin to rot. I’d seen them do it.
There were few evergreens in this area, so the greenery would disappear in winter. It was a little sad to see.
At this time of year, we could feel the cold in our bones. We wore fur jackets, but that didn’t keep our extremities warm.
“Winter’s just around the corner,” I said softly.
“Your dad says things like that.”
Ugh... That feels like a roundabout way of telling me that I sound like an old man.
“Do you know why this region’s so cold?” I asked.
I’ll try talking about a subject she enjoys. Lucky for me, I’ve got no shortage of scientific topics to talk about.
“Hm...? Isn’t that just because we’re in the north?”
“But how far we are north or south shouldn’t have any effect on how many hours of sunlight we receive per year, should it?”
Any place that experienced a midnight sun would also have polar nights to balance it out. The average length of a day throughout the year at the equator and at the poles wasn’t significantly different. Plus, just because the sun never set during a polar summer didn’t mean that it became scorching hot like it did by the equator.
“Now that you mention it... I don’t know...”
Sham began to think. It was one of the things I liked about this smart girl—she resisted simply seeking the answer from someone else. It felt good to teach her because she’d always try to find the solution herself.
“Is it related to atmospheric and ocean currents?” she asked.
Well, that is one factor.
“It’s the angle of the sun.”
“Angle...? It’s related to angle?”
“An easy way to think about it is to imagine a hearth.”
I put my hands out in front of me.
“If you hold your palms facing the fire like this, it feels hot. But if you tilt them like this, you don’t get much heat. It reduces the quantity of heat being supplied across the entire surface area. In this region, the sun’s rays always hit us at an angle, don’t they?”
“Aaaah... I see...” Sham’s mouth hung wide open in amazement.
“And that’s what makes this region cold.”
“I want to know more.”
“Bearing that in mind, take a look at this.”
Getting into the flow, I picked up a fallen ginkgo leaf.
“At what?” she asked.
It seemed Sham had cheered up and was now enjoying herself.
“This leaf.”
“Hm?”
“It fell from the tree, didn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Why did it fall? Or more to the point, why did the tree give up its leaves?”
“Hmm,” she mused. “I don’t know. I just know that’s how those trees are.”
“You’re right that this type of tree sheds its leaves, but that’s obvious.”
“Okay...”
“Everything freezes here during the winter. It’s a survival strategy to protect against that problem,” I explained.
“Ah, it loses its leaves because they would all freeze. I see.”
She catches on quickly.
“But growing this many leaves and then re-growing them each year places a heavy burden on the plant. In human terms, it would be like cutting off your arms and re-growing them each year.”
“But there’s no other way, is there? They’d freeze otherwise. If it kept the leaves, they’d just freeze to death and drop off anyway, wouldn’t they?”
That’s true.
“There are lots of countermeasures plants can use against freezing. For example, if the leaf is thick enough, sap will continue to flow through an inner core that doesn’t freeze. Or the surface might be protected by a material that doesn’t freeze easily. Then it wouldn’t have to lose its leaves when the temperature drops a little.”
“Now that I think about it, yes. But the trees don’t do that.”
“In a region as cold as this, it doesn’t work. That’s why there are no plants like that. From the plant’s point of view, growing new leaves each year is easier than maintaining leaves that are thick enough to withstand the cold here.”
“But that wouldn’t be the case if it was a little warmer?”
“Right. Even in this kingdom, there are plants that stay green year-round that way. They grow in the southernmost regions. It’s like there are boundary points—if you go even further south, you’ll find lots of plants with thin leaves that can survive all year. The other plants disappear because there’s no need for any protection against the cold.”
“Wow... I get it.”
“Though other life-forms find it easy to live in that environment too, so instead they have to fight off insects that eat their leaves... That’s interesting too, right?”
“Yes!” Sham exclaimed with a bashful smile.
“We should start heading back,” I said.
“You’re right. It’s getting cold.”
Dinner should be done pretty soon.
In the distance, I saw the guards at the gate being replaced by those working the night shift.

Conqueror 1.4

It was easy to imagine how stars in space would get a little boring without a big observatory telescope. Once in a while a supernova would cause new stars to appear and disappear, but otherwise they’d endlessly spin around and around at a constant speed, with a pole star always at the center. There couldn’t be a more boring topic of research.
Inferior and superior planets, on the other hand, moved in much more interesting ways than the stars.
“You won’t teach me?”
“Well, I suppose I’ll have to. Now, listen carefully...”
My humble approach made Sham feel proud of herself.
She’s easy to please. And that prideful expression of hers is kinda cute.
“First, the constellations can be divided into summer and winter constellations. What we see now are winter constellations.”
We’re starting with the basics? She’s like an elementary school teacher.
“And well, um, that’s the Bull.”
“I see...”
Unsurprisingly, I had no idea which one she meant. Simply pointing up at the sky with a finger was no way to indicate a specific constellation.
“That’s the Lyre, and that’s the Cat.”
“Wow...”
I wasn’t learning anything, but Sham was surprisingly cute, so I was okay with it.
I feel like I’ve turned into her dad. The thought made me smile. I’d always wanted a daughter like her. Save for one bad experience with a woman, there hadn’t been any others in my previous life, and that unpleasant experience had left me with something close to gynophobia.
“And that’s the Ladle.”
Okay...
I didn’t know what the Bull, Cat, or Lyre constellations were supposed to look like, but I could recognize a ladle shape. There were seven stars forming the ladle’s shape, and the outline stood out clearly because they shone brighter than the others around them.
It looks just like the Big Dipper. Uh...
I blinked several times, doubting my own eyes, and took another look at the Ladle constellation.
Huh?!
It looked exactly like the Big Dipper. No, it was the Big Dipper. For a moment, my mind went blank.
I shifted my gaze in search of other familiar constellations. I didn’t know them well at all—I couldn’t tell you what Cygnus looked like—but I recalled a few famous ones made of bright stars.
I soon found another. I could see so many other stars that it was difficult to make out, but I was certain that I’d found Orion.
Huh... But that shouldn’t exist. Can the stars look the same from another planet? I knew the answer without having to think. Of course not. It’s impossible.
Constellations were made up of the light of stars and galaxies in space, or the residual light of a supernova as it reached the Earth’s surface. When viewed from another position or distance, the stars that made up the constellations wouldn’t remain clustered together in the same way. The three-dimensional nature of space meant that they’d become scattered further apart as you moved closer.
Calling it a space fingerprint or planetary DNA would be an odd analogy, but from other planets, the constellations could never look the same as they did on Earth. And if this was an entirely new universe, then absolutely everything should’ve been different.
There had to be some kind of explanation. I came up with several theories and tried to make them work. Once I’d eliminated the absurd, though, I was left with just one logical explanation: I was in roughly the same location as the Earth and in the same galaxy.
✧✧✧
“...and that’s the Monkey, and that’s the Chair.”
I came to my senses and realized that Sham was still talking.
“And...that’s all of them. Have you memorized them?” Sham asked.
You expect me to remember all that? Anyhow, I’ve got bigger things on my mind.
“Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”
“Huh? Don’t tell me you fell asleep?” She looked a little shocked.
Now I feel bad.
“No, it’s just that now’s not the time...”
“It isn’t? But you’re the one who asked to hear about them in the first place...”
She’s got me there. She looks so disappointed.
“I’m really sorry, but can we end our stargazing for today?”
“Astronomy must be boring. It’s a shame because it’s interesting to me...” she said, growing unhappier by the second.
Ah, jeez. What do I say to her now?
“No, I like it too—it’s just that I think I’m about to make a big discovery.”
“I understand. You can explain your great discovery to me later.”
I’ll have to make this up to Sham at some point...
I dashed down the ladder and searched for a maid so that I could ask for directions to Satsuki’s room. Then I knocked on the door.
“Come in,” came the reply.
“Pardon me,” I said while entering.
“Oh, it’s you, Yuri. What’s wrong?”
“I was wondering if I could take a look at a map. Do we have one?”
“A map...?” Satsuki looked unsure for a moment. “Oh, I suppose you might never have seen one before.”
It wasn’t that I’d never seen a map, it was just that the ones back home were all rough sketches that a child could have drawn, and none of them showed anything beyond our kingdom. Those were no help.
“I’d like to see the biggest one you have.”
“The biggest... I believe it’s in the vault.”
“When I say the biggest, I don’t mean how big the parchment is—I mean the one that shows the widest area. I want to see the shape of the continent.”
“Don’t worry. It’s a map from the late days of the empire showing all of its territories.”
A map of the old Shantila Empire was impressive. It must have been a treasure.
She must have noticed my surprised expression because she explained further. “But of course, it’s not the original. It’s only a copy.”
A copy? That’s still good for my purposes.
The Shantila Empire had once controlled a vast territory that included what was now the Shiyalta Kingdom, and I’d heard that their civil engineering surpassed that of the Shiyalta Kingdom of the present. Some of the empire’s construction techniques were still in widespread use after nine hundred years.
Kalakumo, the city I was currently in, had been constructed after the fall of the empire, so it wasn’t a remnant of those times. The shoreline defenses and foundations of the castle on Royal Castle Island were said to have been built in the days of the empire, though. I had high expectations for a map made by the same people.
“Could you please show it to me?”
I let Satsuki guide me to a set of imposing doors reinforced with iron plates. This was the vault.
Satsuki set down the large key to the vault and headed deeper inside, lantern in hand.
A faint light revealed the many valuable items packed into the small space. They weren’t the gold and silver treasures of a pirate’s hoard. Most of it was weapons—swords and spears—as well as armor mounted on the walls. Their historical significance must’ve given them value.
But on closer inspection, I did see some gold bars too. They rested on top of a sturdy-looking shelf where they’d gathered a lot of dust. Nearby was a bright red object that looked like a piece of precious coral.
“Oh my, it’s dusty in here,” Satsuki noted as she held her handkerchief to her mouth.
“It really is.”
The valuables gathered here were bound to stoke greed and other impure thoughts, so the manor’s maids weren’t sent in to clean the room each day.
“I seem to remember it being in here,” Satsuki continued.
She opened a bureau made of a pale wood that might’ve been paulownia. Inside, there was a map made from a large piece of parchment that had been folded in two.
Parchment was made using animal hide, so there was a limit on the maximum size of one piece. This map was actually two large sheets that had been sewn together with fine thread. Once it was opened up and spread out, it was about the size of an open newspaper.
Although the outline of the landmass was terribly distorted, its shape was immediately familiar to me—it was the western region of the Eurasian continent. It must’ve been drawn largely based on third-party reports. This rendering of Eurasia was quite crude compared to the accurate maps I’d known in Japan, but it was still easily recognizable as the same landmass.
“Our kingdom is located in this region here.”
Satsuki pointed at a spot that corresponded to the Scandinavian Peninsula.
Much like Russia, the Shantila Empire had once been a vast expanse of territory, although much of it was the barely habitable regions in the far north. Judging by the borders drawn on the map, it had stretched from the Ural Mountains all the way to the Scandinavian Peninsula, and it’d gone down past Ukraine and the Crimean Peninsula to the south—almost as far as the city of Baku.
The imperial capital of Shantinion appeared to be on the Crimean Peninsula. Unlike the Scandinavian Peninsula, which looked like a rough sketch, the map was incredibly well-drawn around the shores of the Black Sea. It matched my memories of world maps almost exactly. I could even see the Sea of Marmara connecting the Black Sea to the Mediterranean Sea. The map extended from that region to around the Italian Peninsula.
Great Britain, on the other hand, was drawn like a peanut, and Ireland wasn’t even pictured. Either it didn’t exist, or the mapmaker used information so vague that they hadn’t known to include it. I had no way of knowing which.
“Our kingdom isn’t depicted particularly well on this map. I believe the heart of the empire was in the far east in those days.”
“I see...”
So I was right about the peninsula being drawn inaccurately. This whole region must’ve been far too remote to garner much attention back in the empire’s heyday. Anyway, it all adds up. I really am on Earth after all. How’d it take me a whole seven years to realize it?
“Was this what you were hoping to see?”
“Yes, it’s exactly what I wanted. I don’t suppose you could show me an accurate map of the peninsula too?”
“There’s a map of the kingdom in my husband’s room.”
“Would it be possible for me to view it now?”
“Yes, I’ll lead you there.”
Satsuki and I left the vault. On the way out, she closed and locked the door.
“This way.”
After we’d walked along the corridor for a while, Satsuki brought me to a room that was lined with tightly packed bookshelves on either side. It was hard to believe that this private room had once belonged to a warrior; it looked more like a study than someone’s personal quarters.
“This is a lot of books,” I said.
“Once you live with us, you can read them all you like.”
“I look forward to it.”
I was no bookworm, but didn’t mind sitting down with a book once in a while.
“Oh, it’s right here on the desk...” Satsuki said.
The map had already been laid out. Since the maids were unlikely to touch things in this room, only Gok or Satsuki could put the map away. That meant Gok must’ve been looking at it before he left, and it’d remained on the desk since the expedition had set out.
A shadow came over Satsuki’s previously happy face.
“Would I be allowed to take a look at it?” I asked.
“Yes... Please go ahead.”
Satsuki put her hands under my armpits and lifted me up.
“Um...”
“You’ll be able to see it better if you sit on a chair.”
She scooped me up and put me on what had once been Gok’s chair. Her strength surprised me. Once she’d placed me down, Satsuki moved away and watched over me.
Uh... It helps, I guess.
I inspected the map and found that it showed two neighboring nations—the Shiyalta Kingdom and the Kilhina Kingdom. Both were on the Scandinavian Peninsula. The Kilhina Kingdom was at its base, roughly where Finland would’ve been.
Further to the east were the Dafide Kingdom and the Timna Kingdom, but each was partly cut off. The two countries had already ceased to exist.
The biggest difference between the Scandinavian Peninsula and what I remembered was that the end appeared to be missing a chunk around the Denmark region. The island that would’ve contained Copenhagen was completely gone. I couldn’t imagine the mapmakers forgetting to include that region completely, so it was possible that it didn’t exist at all.
Ho Province was now the tip of the peninsula and covered its southernmost parts.
“My husband was fighting here,” Satsuki explained as she pointed at the map.
That’s near Saint Petersburg.
Saint Petersburg was a city on the shore of the Baltic Sea, and it occupied part of the peninsula’s root. But Satsuki had pointed to a spot a little further inland. Basically, the fighting was happening in the eastern part of the Kilhina Kingdom where the peninsula connected to the mainland.
“There’s a fortress here. It’s the one Rakunu fled from.”
Geographically speaking, it was a good place for trade, but since relations between the Shanti and Kulati people were completely nonexistent, it probably wasn’t possible to establish a trading city on the border.
“Did the fighting start at the fortress?”
“Soon after the battles began, they suffered a defeat that forced them to defend themselves from within the fortress.”
I didn’t know what sort of fortress Satsuki was talking about, but for some reason the soldiers there had needed to mount a suicide attack. If there had been any hope of reinforcements arriving and breaking the siege, such drastic measures wouldn’t have been necessary—their chances of success would be low, after all, so it was only chosen as a last resort.
I noticed that the fortress was positioned much further north than our current location. Perhaps they’d hoped that winter itself would join the battle. In a contest of endurance, would our side have run out of food before the enemy? It was impossible to answer based on guesswork. Without asking someone who’d actually been there, I wouldn’t know the specifics.
“Thank you. I understand now,” I said.
“Oh? What is it you understand?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to learn some geography.”
I’m not lying.
“Oh, really? Well I’m glad I helped.” She seemed willing to let me off without further questions.
“Well, it’s been a tiring day. I’d like to rest. Sorry for keeping you up so late,” I said.
“Not at all. Let me see you back to your room.”
“That’s all right. I’ll be fine by myself.”
I doubt I’ll need a guide to find my room from here.
“It’s easy to get lost at night. You can’t see anything outside, so even adults get lost sometimes. I hope you’ll be all right.”
Ugh... I thought I would be until she said that.
“In that case, is it too late to accept your offer?”
“Of course not. Let me take you there.”
In the end, I had Satsuki take me back to my room.
The corridors were dark and deathly silent. Even the richest households couldn’t illuminate their corridors evenly at night. Considering the risk of a fire, increasing the number of torches might have even been foolish. The stairs were an exception, however—there was a torch placed wherever the stairway turned a corner because of the high tripping risk. Their thick wicks absorbed oil from canisters to create some fairly large flames. Once one’s eyes had adjusted to the dark, it was easy to see where the stairs began and ended.
After navigating the stairs, we entered a corridor that seemed familiar. If I remembered correctly, heading straight would lead us to the room where Rook was sleeping.
But we got no further before hearing a strange voice—the sound of a girl crying.
The voice felt supernatural, and I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. It stood to reason that a manor like this would be home to a ghost or two. Not to mention that two people had died earlier today.
“U-Um...” As I turned to Satsuki, the sobbing stopped.
“Shush,” Satsuki whispered and gestured at me to be silent.
Maybe it’s best to just keep quiet?
We walked a little further and then came to the owner of the voice.
“Sham, did you get lost again?” Satsuki asked.
Sham was sitting in the corridor with her knees to her chest. She’d been crying.
“Yes...” she replied with a sniffle. She looked relieved when she recognized Satsuki’s face.
That’s cute.
“Looks like we caught you at an embarrassing moment,” Satsuki said.
Sham then noticed me hidden in the darkness.
“Huh? Yuri?! It’s not—”
“Sham, don’t shout,” Satsuki chided before putting a finger to Sham’s mouth to close it.
I realized that the only other sounds around us were the distant snores of old men. We couldn’t hear any forest creatures here, which made it quieter than my usual home. The shrill voice of a little girl could really carry through these corridors.
“I’m s-sorry...”
Sham was surprisingly obedient when faced with her mother.
“I’ll head back to my room...” I said.
“No, wait. It only happened today... I don’t normally get lost, honestly...” Sham muttered.
“I know, I know. You couldn’t help it because it’s so dark.”
Between the pitch-black corridors and the rows of identical doors, it was hard for anyone to find their way. Still, it was odd to see Sham lost on the first floor when her room was somewhere on the second floor. Maybe she’d taken a wrong turn while worrying about ghosts—this manor was enough to give anyone a fear of them.
“I’m serious... Please believe me...” she whimpered.
I couldn’t quite tell in the darkness, but I sensed her tearing up again.
“Don’t worry. If anything, having a flaw or two just makes you cuter.”
“I don’t want you to think I’m stupid...”
Apparently, that was Sham’s biggest concern. It hadn’t even crossed my mind, though.
“I don’t think that.”
This has nothing to do with how smart you are...
Satsuki took Sham by the hand and began walking.
“Let’s head back to our rooms. Yuri, your room is just up ahead.”